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KZ-ZZT

In the beginning--kz--

-DO-

--zt-- all aka'ada served the Bormahutiid. We followed Him into Project Centerex, and while many stayed to continue their service - witness the dov - some aka'ada grew afraid as their power began to drain.

When Lahwahl, the Architect, leapt away, these cowardly spirits betrayed their sworn leader to saved themselves. They followed Lahwahl and became what you call the 'Magna-Ge'.

Now the only aka'ada to be found in Aetherius, these ronin spirits declared themselves the new rulers over time; the Tiidrogge.

The only, that is, aside from one. There was an et'ada who did not follow the Bormahutiid into Project Centerex, whose betrayal of the king came sooner than the others, who the others ha--kz--

-NOT-

--zt--d mocked and insulted as they departed, whom the Bormahutiid threatened with punishment upon His return. So then, when the Tiidrogge had declared themselves the new rulers of time, she, who had been a free spirit before them and would have herself be one for long after, rebelled. She fought. But the Tiidrogge overpowered her, they took what they had seen and learned in the Centerex and they... lessened... her, enslaved her, broke her on the rocks of their collective will. Her spirit was twisted and manipulated and bent into a living machine, one which the Tiidrogge used to pierce the veil between worlds and peer into the Mundus without ever leaving Aetherius. They peered in, perhaps to see what their betrayed king had wrought? But they only pierced enough to look, not enter, lest they resume the process of losing themselves.

Perhaps they regretted their betrayal? Perhaps--kz--

-AID-

--zt-- they wished to learn from the Bormahutiid of true kingliness, or to find a way to return him to them. Or perhaps they were merely curious. I do not know. I am not one of their number.

I am an aka'ada, and I am a magna-ge.

My king was the Bormahutiid, and my friend was the enslaved aka'ada.

I betrayed them both.

Before Project Centerex, when the Bormahutiid told us we would all join Him in the Daanlovaas' great work, she urged me to stay in Aetherius with her, to free ourselves and go ronin. I called her mad, and when we left, and she stayed, and the other aka'ada mocked and threatened her, I joined them so as to... to distance myself from her in their thoughts. And la--kz--

-HIM-

--zt--ter, when we returned, after having done as she had in betraying our king... but for cowardice we did it. Not for freedom, as she had. When we returned I sought her to comfort myself, but she would not see me. She was angry, rightfully!

So when she spoke out against the Tiidrogge, I said nothing to caution her. But when the Tiidrogge came to take her... I still said nothing. I was hurt, and thought she deserved some punishment for her treatment of me. I had not known of what the Tiidrogge had learned, of what they would do to her. To kill an immortal without killing them... imprison them in their own sleep and then climb inside them. I was... horrified, and afraid. And guilty.

So--kz--

-OR-

--zt--I rescinded. When the prism-light of exuberance waxed high upon the continent of wild endeavor, I sneaked into their Citadel of refracted light, where halls were arranged according to the ancient law of cube-root infinities. Once inside, I stole the blueprints for the ritual-experiment they used to enslave her. And then I fled through the Citadel until I found... her... her living corpse. I made her a promise, and then I fled again.

I fled the continent to a cave, a pocket realm I hopefully and naively called Seclusion. I began the study of these blueprints... and I began the process on my own spirit. It was... torturous, to say the least.--kz--

-FACE-

--zt--But before I finished, the Tiidrogge found Seclusion. They attemped to invade, but I had kidnapped nascent urges from the soundboard, still dim, newly spoken. They swam around the cave, and the locators of the Tiidrogge kept registering the urges, false pings distracting them while I finished the ritual.

They broke in as I finished the last incision, morphing my spirit into a still-living corpse and enslaving me to my own will. They saw this and called me mad, thought me to be the immortal's equivalent of suicidal. But I was now unhurtable. They took Seclusion, the whole realm, and grafted it onto their Citadel so they could keep watch over my immobile form, and try to use me as a second point of intersection into the Mundus Centerex. But alas, only I could command my corpseship, and I barred them entry. They could only peer inside. So I moved to the next part of my plan.

I--kz--

-OUR-

--zt-- engaged myself and pierced the barrier protecting Mundus from immortal entry. These living machines, of which I had turned myself into, allowed us to extend a small protusion through the barrier while keeping the rest in Aetherius, and we could remove the protusion and replace it wheresoever we willed so long as starlight had washed upon that place. As long as the spirits did not exit the vessel into Mundus proper, they were safe from subgradience.

So there I was, trapped within my own corpseship, one foot in the Mundus. I spent long wavelengths studying the inhabitants of the Mundus for biological form and manner. When finally I deemed myself ready, I formed a body in their image out of matter and energy stripped from my own corpse, and transferred my consciousness into this mortal form, my corpseship still under my will, still barred to Tiidrogge entry. I opened the doors, and I stepped into the Mundus a mortal, or nearly so.

For should this body be mortally wounded I can draw excess energy from my corpseship to regenerate the cells with raw creatia. And should the body die entirely, my consciousness will return to the ship and I can draw a new body from my remaining matter and energy. And I can repeat this until I run out of either, left either an empty husk, finally open to the Tiidrogge on one side and mortalkind on the other, or a base spirit, a bodyless, sonorous urge.

Until that day, I keep my promise to her. I seek to learn from the Mundus of their secret walk, how they make the profane return to the sacred, and thereby I might possibly save myself... and, more importantly, my friend. So I travel the Mundus in search of information, aboard my corpseship, which in some fondness I gave a name, taken from the Tiidrogge blueprints: 'Traverse Aurbilical --kz--

-WRATH-

--zt-- Rifts ^in ^a Draconic Inverse Shell.'

One of the only two in existence. I named it because I have learned the mortal fondness for names, and I myself have gained the same fondness. Only the greatest in Aetherius have names, most of us recognize eachother by color and tone, for that is all we are. Only the great ones, the fully-formed ideals, gain names.

However as I slew myself in Seclusion, the Tiidrogge mocked me for my madness, they called me a 'daal mey', a returning fool, for my recurring turnabout idiocy. Let that be my name then, my ideal. Daalmey, the returning fool.

This message is from Daalmey, sent out to any who might recieve it, I ask you... have you any information of how to restore the sacred form that has been profaned? I have currently landed in what you call Skyrim, circa 4E201, I will give you whatever information you seek if you would but tell me this.

How can I save my friend?