Hodiimadod Snayl

The Garamantees call them the Doddermen on account of their ungainly gait. A lopsided waddle
that threatens to topple the bellicose antiquarian's arse over tit. A perambulation that would be
comedic if you dared laugh at them. Not many dare laugh though, at least not to their enfeebled
geriatric toothless maw. Fore to do so would bring about a vociferous pummelling.
Hoary fossils in the guise of quavering meatsacks . Be forewarned, these bonehouses draw their
fortitude from a well of vim and vigour.. The sinewy pith in each and everyone.. unyielding.
Phineus lay still.. Pale milk eyes wept condensed sorrow. How unfairly he had been played,
banished to the Arkke's end. Set adrift in the rift of menjoosa. A lonely disrememberd place. Oft
racked with warp fiends and unpronounceable things . A broken fusion of ship and rock, rebuilt as
an unfathomable tzeentchian maze, tethered to the Arkke with chains of despair. His crime was to
be a seer.. Not a shoddy charlatan a well known Haruspex ..a visionary Auger who foretold the
downfall of the pandoricalle. Caste out amongst his beloved stymphalian birds..
Ocine , hark the sounds of the birds it yieldeth truth for man
alites, Observe the birds in flight it yieldeth truth of the gods
Many lines old, hair lank, knuckles rubbed and knobbled knees. Capricious gods, have had their fill.
The seductress tempts his belly one last time. Sweet Emprah forgive me, I know not where I am nor
what I do. Lost amongst the there am I. Bereft my Hodiimadod clansmen, bereft the
yggdrasilliume, bereft my home world, bereft my universe? Lost in the fog, give me a sign ..I yield
my heart upon the plinth, my savant eyes ablind . Pray let it end.
Odoriferous air respired his lungs . What sweet smell is this now , chargrilled groxmeat ,
honymead wine.. Olfactory heaven.. and how my stomach aches.. I beg thee leave me hence. One
small morsel is all I ask , to be eaten in my own comfort..
Phineus, dragged himself upon his feet. This time, this last time, for I have nothing left to give.
He shuffled across the debris strewn floor, footafoot until the plinth barred his way.. Fragrant,
incense aroma .. Empty gut railed upon his reason, just one mouthful....prehensile fingers coveted
the banquet.. if I am quick.. it shall be in me before I know any different. No sooner had he grabbed
at a plate, than it turned foul... Graveolent and noxious fumes gagged his throat as he fell upon his
knees.
The malodurous stench brought again his nightmares, made real by arrant desire.. his long beloved
augers the stymphalian birds. Made anew, foul and debased as any bird could be.
Cowering under plinth once more, Phineus covered his ears to the cawing of his damnation.