Another Dinner Party

Memory is a funny thing. People swear by things happening that never did. Forget things that used to be precious. Can never forget those things that claw at the heart and mind that any person would rather leave behind.

This memory, however, was strange, because Bräk was sure it had never happened. He remembered the vision of the desert, of the terrible writhing thing that moved across the sands, taller than any building that blocked out the sun itself. But now he remembered too, the dinner.

Bräk sat on an ornate oak chair, the wood polished and well kept, a soft pillow placed under him for comfort. In front of him, on plates of silver in a room lit only by candle light, were delicious meats, cheeses, and fruits. The smell of the oil and spices used to cook them filled the room like a rich perfume that brought that savory flavor to one's mouth before even the first bite. Bräk could take no bite, however, as heavy iron changes bound his arms to the arms of the chair. Across from him, at the head of a dining room table both infinitely long and shockingly short, sat a man with scales for skin, a dark brown and black that worked over his thick skin and massive hands, each ending in a short but sharpened triangular claw. Bräk would have guessed Dragonborn, but his features were off, and his scales not colored correctly. The man took up a lobster, cracking it with his bare hands, and draining the meat from its body in one loud, sickening sucking sound, before placing it down. His crass eating did not match his clothes: a suite and a long necktie, clothing Bräk had never seen before but that left and elegance and sophistication to the beast.

"You're..him, right? The fella' who's gone and given' me these powers. You...saved me? Back there, was that you in the desert?"

The man looked coldly at the half-orc, stopping and clasping his hands in front of him on the table. "Some men have gifts, Bräk. I am not always right in my estimations, but the way I see it you are one of those men."

"That's great but not what I asked."

"Yes," answered back a stern voice. "There are few living things that have laid their gaze on me. What the mortals refer to as 'true form.' It is not any truer than this one, but I think the one you creatures find most frightening and so decided it must be what I really am." He stopped and took a bite out of a ruby red apple, the juices running from his lips as he continued. "You, Bräk, as was told to you by the gemma lacerta, are my pawn to move now."

"Gee thanks that's a high compliment." The half-orc struggled slightly against his chains to see if there was a way out, but they were bound tight.

"Don't feel weak. It is humans who undervalue their pawns. But think of the lowly king. He is barely the more agile, and once threatened with no escape, the game is up. So which of us is truly weak?" He laughed, taking another bite of the apple. "I have seen the fall of the 5 kings. Witnessed the war of the 7 cities and Carcosa. Was there for the rise and fall of the forever queen. I was there when the old gods brought forth the djinn to walk the land and banished them for their insolence. But now, for the first time, I feel a fear. An anxiety that what comes next will not threaten the world, but the fabric of the manifolds of all of this. Of everything. What comes next would extinguish us all. Even me."

Bräk stopped pulling on his chains to respond. "Well mate you seemed pretty big to me, maybe you should go stop it then instead of sendin' little ol' me, yeah?"

"It was your kind who banished me. It was you all who tied me to these sands, forever, and why I must reach through mortals like you to see balance kept. So it falls to you and those like you, the pieces on the board. The gods of your ilk are too proud to realize this time even they must work with us. But no matter. An enemy of my enemy may be my friend just this once, as you are friends with your priestess." He sighed loudly, rolling his neck back and starring up into a ceiling that was nothing but darkness, the room itself being too large to see the corners of. "We will meet again. Go, and continue to gain power. And whatever you do, do not trust the followers of T̴̡̡̡̧͙͕̱̻̳͕̜͖͔̠͔͍͙͚͇̝̗̙̬̼̱͇̯͇̱̰̻̝͕̻͎̯̳̳̭̭̹̻͖̗̳̯̘̘̻̲̖̰̪̠̬̳̼̰͇̹̣̙̪̻̟̺̙̗̹̱̥̱̟̭̦͂͒͂͒̎̄̐̽̽̀̃͗̆̿̀̈́̈́͒̀̂̎̐̏̌̂̇̓͂́̉̋̎̿̋͒͊̾̑́́͑͗̓̿̂̌̐̈́̏́̈́̔̓̀͘͘͝͠h̷̛̛̛̪̬̮͓̠̬̫̹̹͉̋̈͐̏̀͊̑̓͆́͗̋̅̈́̊́̌͐̃͋͆̑̆̀͒͆͋̃͊́̅̇̃͊̄̈́̊̏̐́̀̄͑͗̋̐͐̂̃̂̀͌̃̀͂̅̐̀̃̾̓͗̅́̄̎̆̈́́̈́͗̌̐͘̕͘͘̚̕̕͘͝͝͠͠͝ȩ̵̡̛̛̛̪̪̗̙̺̹̭͍̹͔͍̦̬͈͖̠͓̲̳̣̙͙̼̝̱̰̘̣̬̯̝̘̫̜̞͈̥̺͎͙̝̠͙̯͇̼̜̱̭͖̻͖̯͖̩̻̲̮͇̭̞̟͕̱͈̬̃̈̔̾̀͊̈̓̃̀̈̏̀̊̈̅͛̿̉̔̿̏͆̍͊̆̈́̾͂́̍̿̍͂̔͂̎̽̒̇́̓̐̽̕̕͘̚͜͜͜͠͠͠ͅͅͅͅ ̸̢̧̡̡̨̡̢̛̛̛̛̳̟̭̣͙͇̜͖̞͔͉̱̗̩̣̪̬̤̱̪̫͍̱̖̞̘̥͙̖͓̫͍͈̻͇̼̦̣̟̱͕͇͇̤̖̍̑̾̓̈́̇͐̃̄̃̔̈̾͊̏̅̐̊́̋͛͌͊̆̀̊̽̉̉̈̉̽̆͐͗̈́͑̋͗͛̓̈͒̾̎̅̎̂̃͋͛͐͌͒̋̓̋͒̏̍̓͌͒̂͆͛̾͊̌̉͋͂̒̃̈́̐̐͊̋̊͋̃̋̌̀̄͐̅͘̕̕͘̚͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͠͝R̸̨̢̛̭̼̪̺̳̼̣͔̗̱̪̝̗̳̞̞̮͙̭̼͍̦͚͓̺̜͕̪̮̗̊̾̀̃̒͐͌̈́̌́̊͂͒̄̄̃͋̇̈́̇͐̈̓̉̅̅̋̒̈́͑͆̐̋̑́̄̿̅͋͐̆̈́̈́̈́̔̂̎̏̋̾̾̒̌̑̐̉̕͘̚̕̕̚͜͝͠͝͝͝͠͝ą̴̨̢̢̧̡̢̛̱͎̜̫͕̮̗̪̦̻̯̼̬͈͕̹̬̼̜̤̹̪̟̖̫͉̼̯̠̥̮̦̬̺̹̠̳̥͉̟͍̠͚͖͇̤̝̖͙̞̠͔̗̤̙̯̦̰͓͉̫̯͕̦̫̼̲̞͙̟͓̣͎̩̪͍̦̱̭͓̤̣̖̄̔͒̿̅̊̾̎͑̊̽̽̿̊̐͐̍̄͆͆̈̓̌̂̿͌͋̍̔̉͋͑̉̅̽͑͆̚͘̚͜͜͜͠͝͠ͅͅͅv̵̢̛͈͉̦̗͇̯̌̋̀̎̇͌̈́͋͆̂͆̔͐̐̆́̓́̑̇́̓̊̇́̋̈́̋̏̾͂̋͊̎̉̃̿̀̎̔͒͌̓̒̈́̊̀̌̆̔͐̈͑͒̈́͛̅́̋́͊͋̇̋̉̇͛͗̅̅̌̓̾̽̄̒͒̃́͐̀̆̀͑̊̿̌̚͝͝͠͠͠͝͝͝͠ẹ̷̡̧̨̘̠͓͔̗̮̺̩̥̰͇̦̲͙͚̮̩̟̱̟͙̬͓͔̥͙͎͉̖̹̖̺͔̈́̾͒̉̓́̄̏̍̏̉͂ͅͅn̸̡̧̨̨̛̛̛̛͇͈̗̗͈̮̻̖̳̰̗̣̘̤͇̱̝͎̝͈̤̫̼̞̝͎̘̜̯̣͖̯̠̣̺̞̩̖̰̯͉̗̭̹͖̻̘͓̟̺͉̼̤̩͓̋̽̾͛̒̅̈́̈͑́̓͆̿̃̆̎̾̂̉̿̆̓̈́̾̆͑̍̍̒̃͆̒̏͊́͋̋̈́͌̓̓̋́͑̎̐͒̌̍̐̐͌̍̂̿͒͂̍͘̕͘͘͘̕̚͘͜͠͝͝͠͝͝ ̵̨̡̡̨̛̛̛̛̖̗̟͍̜͕̪͚̙̱̜͔̦̱͍̩̹̦͙͈̤͚̳͉̝̠̪̪̼̰͖̪̼͉̙̻̳͍̯̗̰͍̥̬͔̪̞͖͉̞͙̖͉̯̫̰̥̟̜̟͙̦͚̖̳͇͎̺̗̣̩̮̭̤̭̲͑͗́̒̈́̔̊̇̑́͊̓̍͆̓̊̃̊͋̈̈́͋̔̑̀̓̑͗͒͒̏͗̄̌̒̓̈́̄̈́̒̋̀̎̅̈́̈́͐̆̓́̀͌̓́̊̐̐͋̇̉̂̑̍̏̀̈́͒̃͊̐̈́̈́̊͒͐̀̋̆̀̀͐͌̂̚͘̕͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͝ͅͅQ̶̧̨̧̢̧̧̧̨̡̢̬̬̥̮̫̗̺͎̤͍̯̱̰̯̤̭͇̘̱̘̖̙͖̱͖͓͎̬͙̳͖̦̗̥͇̮̳̖̝̥͇̘͉̻͖̦͖͔̭͔̺̠͕͕̤̳̦̺͈͎̗̣̰͈͕̗̰͎̮͔̙̮͍̻͎͎͖͍̗̂̊̉͋̊́̊̎͂̑̊͌̂̏̆͋̀͆̃̆̎̽͒͒̋͒̅̌͆̾͘͜͜͜͜͠͠͠͝ų̵̧̡̧̧̨̨̡̛̛̝̫͖̲͎̝͍̖͍̭̻̞̜̲̙̳̹̹̖͚̲̝͚͙̩͉̜̺̪̖͕̦̪̹͎̙͇̠͔͔͍͚̰͍͎͇̞̠̥̳̟͎̗̣̱̫̣͔͚̻̝̳͚̟̮͔̫̹̹̝͇̬̭͎͕̖̳̗̝͓̬̠̭͚̩̐͊̍̃͗̍̏̓̽̉̋̀͛̆̄̍̐͆̄͒̇̂̒͑̏͌̈̉͆̌̅̇̀̔̈́̈́̊͂̈́͋̈́͂͛̋́̕̚̕͘͜͜͠ę̶̛̼̥̗͙̮̗͉̤̰̣̝̻͎̜͚͉͖͂̉̊̀̉͗̈́͂͐̇͐̀̉͌͌̍̍͗́͗͑̒͒̈́̄͆̇̂͒͆̃͗̔̊̚͝͝͠ẽ̸̞̬̠̰̦̜̻̯̲͈͖̩̪̰̖͈̜͓͉̭̳̣̙̽́̂̒́̊̂͋̌́̍͊́̿̎̿̽͘͘͘͘n̷̡̨̡̡̧̧̨̨̛̥̝͍̤͈̫̝͍̜̘͔̥͖͔̻̥͙̞̘̩̫̻̳͉͕̫̱̰̦͚̰͖̣̲̳̹͈̯͉͉͇̩̠̗͙̮͉̞͖͖͉͙͇͇̥͙͉̯̜̥͙̞̭̪̱͓͕͙̖̦̖̮̤͆͐̇̋͗̌́̌̒̏́̉͂̾̑̐͐̒̓͑͌̿͆̉̽́̓̽̊̒̔̿͂͛̂̉̍̅̈́̍̾̏͊͌̾̈́̀̋̒̈́͒͆͊͛͊̂̽̇̄̃̃̉̿͂̐̀͊̈̆̉̂͒̈́̓͛̌̒̌̈́̄͒̎̈̈̄̈́̉͘̚̚̚̕͘͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝ͅ.







Bräk could remember it, faintly, like memories from childhood with bits and bobs removed over time. It never happened, yet it swam in his head like it had, many many years ago and only moments ago too. He saw it some nights in dreams for many weeks after, and it never quite faded like most dreams do.