Section I: Taberna Inferna
It’s too fucking hot. Aeson Tathalan bent forwards over the table, drink in hand. Typically, the Stonecrest Inn was a good shelter from the sweltering heat of Aqshy, but today its subtle magic could not keep up with the steaming fire-realm around it. A pit-stop for travellers, the Stonecrest was built away from the cities, in one of the hotter parts of the realm, along a barely-maintained road. Even so, a good number of other customers drank at the other tables – some even managing to laugh. Aeson didn’t know how; the heat was stifling, and he swore the bubbles in his ale were from it boiling.
Suddenly, there was an approaching sound. A rumble, perhaps, but of music. Music that almost compelled him to get up and dance, so catchy and adventurous was the tune. Some others at the other tables looked up and smiled, turning to peer out the windows even as they clapped in time. Whatever carnival was traveling the road, it was moving closer swiftly. Finally, Aeson stood and approached the window himself, beer in hand. Outside, beyond the pillars of steam rising from the lava fissures, he spied figures – huge figures, two of them, approaching.
They were effeminate, and strode with sashaying hips. Vicious-looking blades hung at their sides, and their hair writhed and curled – alive. They were nearly completely naked, arms and clawed appendages snapping and twitching as the pair conversed in a language that could not be interpreted over the music of their approach. But most importantly, they were beautiful, radiant, glowing with a life and beauty that was altogether different from the burning, searing glow of Aqshy’s lava-fields.
When they arrived, they slowed gracefully to a halt, peering down at the tavern. Their towering, radiant forms were surrounded by a dancing, cavorting pack of beautiful women, nearly completely naked, who played and laughed and undulated in the shadow of these radiant god-beings. Aeson dropped his beer to the floor, fingers going limp as he felt entranced and enchanted by the sensuous seduction of the women’s moves. Finally, he began to step out of the tavern, the first of the large crowd to do so.
As he reached the doors, he realized he felt almost like he had transcended out of his body. Two of the beautiful women held the door for him, kowtowing submissively as he passed. There was a smell in the air, like roses and vanilla and beautiful things, and his eyes were drawn to the looping artistry of the dancing girls and the titanic goddesses that stared down at him with a curious gaze.
“We know what you want, little creature. We know everything about you, Aeson Tathalan. ” Spoke the first – the shorter of the pair, hair swept back and pulled tight into a ponytail behind her naked form.
“H-how could you possibly know that? Know my name?” He replied, trembling as he fought to speak past the lust and infectious pleasure that thrummed in his mind like a shrieking violin. The goddess’s voice in his ears was unlike anything he had heard before, and he fought to control himself.
“I am a Keeper of Secrets, little one. I know everything there is to know about desire. I cannot tell it, but I keep the knowledge all the same.”
Aeson collapsed to the ground, something about the air around him, plus her sultry voice, removing all will or desire for anything from his body. Save her. “A Keeper of Secrets… what is that? Are you… a goddess?”
The massive woman laughed aloud, the sound like running of cool water or the tinkling of beautiful chimes. “One who keeps secrets, little thing. I am no goddess – Anchyche of the Song Sublime, is my name, and I am merely a Handmaiden to my Queen.” she said, gesturing deferentially to the woman to her right – the larger, titanic woman, whose bared breasts were larger than Aeson’s entire body.
“Yes. I am Czumneth Ereshkigal, and I am a goddess.” came a single sentence from her voice as she finally regarded little Aeson.
That’s when he lost control. Terror of the unknowable wracked his body, as glimpses of unreality flashed in his mind at her name. He shat himself, right then and there, writhing in ecstasy on the ground as he came simultaneously. His body completely rebelled at her mere voice, his lack of a heroic will causing him to fall easily for the unspoken temptations and commands that that voice compelled.
“Czumneth, my Queen!” He cried. “How may I serve you?” he added, as his body exhausted itself, and for lack of energy stilled and shuddered to a halt, covered in piss and cum and shit among the stones of Aqshy in his peasant’s rags.
“Go, my pet.” came her voice again. She raised her taloned fingers to the entire crowd at the tavern. “Go, all of you, my pets, and spread the word. The Libertine Queen is here! My armies shall free your bodies from your minds, and your minds from restraint! Gather as many pilgrims as you can, and find Carcosa, the sacred land where twin suns rise!” she called, as the crowd themselves writhed and cried out upon the ground at her address.
It was only after the pair of goddesses had departed that the mortals recovered sufficiently to move again.
Section II: Glory to Carcosa!
Anchyche and Czumneth giggled and joked for the rest of the expedition – indeed, even as they failed to gain control of the magical anomaly in the center of the Prime Dominion, they could not help but be amused at what they had done. The insect-like mortals, so often beneath their attentions, had been so easy to play with. Their minds were open books, their every extreme desire laid bear, and their souls ripe for plucking. The pair decided they might keep an eye on these creatures, the way a human might preserve an amusing ant colony.
Meanwhile, word had spread – and none could deny it. Among the villages of the Prime Dominion, multiple taverngoers and travellers had seen the Resplendent Host as it cavorted its way across the lands. Curious philosophers and wizards, eager to be free of the shackles of the societies around them, were the first to sign on to the expeditions to Carcosa that began in every major nearby village and city, but there were others. Others who wanted to believe in something, others who wanted to understand these creatures that had provoked a reaction of debased worship among their kin, others who simply wanted /out/… they came. More and more, in droves, and when their caravans departed for mythical Carcosa, they were swollen and fat with souls.
Not all made it, of course. Carcosa was not an easy place to find, its tethers and gates to the realms oftentimes hidden or in inaccessible areas. But enough did, and the city of Carcosa, surrounding the Cyrenaic Citadel, began to grow.
With every new arrival and every new birth, the daemons inside the citadel, and especially Czumneth herself, felt it. She was connected to them all, a great presence who could turn the very thoughts of her worshippers had she felt the whim. As she lounged on the massive, couch-like throne she had crafted for herself, gorged on the human sacrifices of her worshippers and her Handmaidens around her each pleasuring her in their own ways, she knew it wasn’t enough.
But it never would be, would it?
