Analogion

[Queistor]

((A book with wooden covers that close box-like over the pages. The handwriting inside is oversized and awkward, like a child's.))



Deathknell, Lordaeron bleak. Silvermoon lively. Conversations of "The Grim." Conversants one male elf, shocked, and one male elf, former leader. Glimpsed a portal to the alien city. Violet walls. Orcess proud over rabbit. Greetings young ones. Welcome again. Feel free to seat yourself. Behind the bar yes? I cannot pay/cannot afford to sit there (former leader). Er well all right. Body guard of sort. Shocked elf returns. Mistaken, I say you are. Nod. The usual, sweetheart.

Elves. Behaving elfly.

I have had a long day.

So have I.

[Queistor]

Asked what "Queistor" meant in Thalassian. Means nothing. Mother said he would know me by this name. Secret to the grave. Matters not. Father does not interest me. Heritage interests me. "Queistor" means diddly. No matter.

Found mature female Latrodectus geometricus with egg sac. Established link. Placed them beneath my ribcage. Spins a web as I write. She eats the carrion insects, mutual benefit. Very excited. Egg sac most beautiful, spiked. Do not want to lose more organs to carrion. Beautiful, beautiful. Should hatch, 2-3 weeks. Unaccustomed to life among dead tissue, the link will keep her against her nature. Precious things.

[Queistor]

Good dreams, I'll see you all in the morning then. Light guide you, sir.

QUÆSTOR: The magistrate originally an investigator of murders, this office evolved into accountancy, and controlled the public treasury and were the paymasters of the army.

Questionable.

Why didn't any of the grunts raise the alarm? They did, once they caught on fire. I see (puzzled).

[Queistor]

Would you care for some wine? (Gibberish) I'm sorry. I'd love to, but I really must go. I understand. I'll accept another time.

Talkative elves, fishing elf with pets, silent Horde.

[Queistor]

((*a simple black leather-bound book*))

WhO do YoU thInk YOu aRE? WHen thE RESt oF ME GEts hEre VIsaNt aNd I wiLL KiLL yOU MUrdER yOu DesTRoY evErYthinG yoU aRe CASt yoU iNTo tHE ABYsS iT'S miNE yOu HAve nO PlaCE DiE Die DIe diEdIE DiE DIe DIE diE DIe dIe DIE

[Queistor]

*smooth, even handwriting*

Allowed it expression. Quieter now. Distasteful existence. (Elves no better than humans.) Paranoia, hallucinations, unwanted desires. Rogue fragments of identity linger to mock. Imaginative or dissociative? My own or his? Lifetime of bad habits. In the event of domination over fleshy government, require intensive parenting classes as precursor for breeding.

Precious arachnids. Unknown type. I should know.

[Queistor]

Hands in my hair. Problem being, not my hair. Relief on coming home, but not my home. Intense emotions and desire to control them via intoxication. Rogue identity fragments persist. Sometimes useful dialogue is achieved. Other times mere paranoia and doubt. Dangerously close to nonsense.

Pholcids in laboratory. Pleasant surprise. Established contact. Too fragile to carry with me. Will find more hardy specimens. Grounding. I need grounding.

[Queistor]

Obtained more useful weapon. Meeting next week. Will not lower partition. Never again. Information not as valuable as soundness of mind. Partition weakened each time. Foolish. Woke outside the bedroom door. Sleepwalking. Going to crawl into bed. Didn't know what I was doing until the action of hand on the knob. Handle. Laboratory experiments not going well. Need to lower partition to retrieve information, knowledge. Spectral mammals. When the pholcids begin speaking I will be forced into drastic measures.

[Queistor]

Judgement hindered. Sleeping less. Will fake it. He checks in on me. Never seen that. I may be wrong. Problems could be imagined. My own expectations exaggerate them. If I expect soundness and rationality it will be there. Fear is a trap.

Timeline. We were taken June 15. July 12 now. Near four weeks. How long since escape? Half that time.

Peculiarity: he hasn't asked how I escaped. Knows already? Told? By whom? Have waited to be asked. Asked already?

Senselessness of the situation irksome. Am I doing what they intended from the start? Who is in on it? Damned if a spy is among us. Careless. I've been careless. Doomed if a trap. Find my body first. Other warlocks available. Transfer me back. Leave a shell. Nourish it, bathe it until the owner returns. Would not survive confrontation without his power. Need it and his prison. Senseless. Foolish. What purpose could there be?

[Queistor]

Izrail, thank you again for helping us. We couldn't have achieved any of this without you. (Troll cackles.)

Tabard and necklace. Hair loss.

[Queistor]

Lost control of felguard. Physical weakness. Increased need to leech lifeforce from the living. All a daze. Thought I heard something near piano.

[Queistor]

Uncharacteristic affection for a Kal'dorei woman, including physical contact.

[Queistor]

Let's get this over with. Another try, another fall. Ice clear thoughts of murder. Profanity from the other side: Fuck Corlok, fuck racing. Not my voice. Not my dragon. Why try then? Dash his own skull on the rock. Luckless fel orc (?), fails just as often. Give up. Have dinner.