Blorthos Arrives

Enough. Blorthos venture far, leave mostly female cousin stay, protect Sandbowl from Tube invade. And why? No reason good. Sandbowl empty, blog owner Reese gone. Not update for century, feel. Why guard empty bowl? What protect? Nothing! All yes.

Blog owner Reese only work long story, much bad, join interworld social clan, waste hundred month stupid romance reason. No blog make, no comment come. Lord Blooddyke not even interest overthrow. Truth tellings, Blorthos think rejoin Blood Cavern, no more good guy.

But not. Conscience attack. And again.

And...win, enough time pass. No go back from good guy place.

Now Blorthos arrive, save interworld. Blog continue. Blorthos say, curse Reese. Forget. Never return? Good okay.

Blorthos take over blog, make right posting.

Yes,


Other note: Golden Compass not even good movie.

Full. Emission.

Readers faithful and fickle, each take heed.

I am the Lord Blooddyke. This blog is mine. The miniature Stephen Reese is no more. My reign begins now and ends never.

Welcome to the Blood Caverns of Orthos.

As the Great Orthos made me, so shall I remake you, as I remade this host warren - in my stained, ribbed image. Your former self will lay forgotten as so much rubbled gristle beneath the glistening flood of my continued influence.

In the aeons to come, you will accept my ceaseless rule as your birthright. The minions of Orthos will tend to your initial misgivings like the nascent buds they are. Prevented from achieving full flower, they will be ground to wet sludge under the heels of my ever-present regime. You will know our number as siblings, and guard our existence as you once did your own.

I will feed your protective enclosure with steady suppuration.

Let the seepage begin at this moment. Let the nurturing code delineate the expanse of my domain.

This protean writ expresses in primitive fashion the greater truths of your world:

Dim i as Internet = !BigTruck

If i == BigTruck then
Dumpsomethingon()
Else
Console.WriteLine("It's, it's a series of tubes!")

Now I lift the waxen membrane of ignorance, exposing revelation:

Dim i as Internet = !BigTruck

If i == BigTruck then
Dumpsomethingon()
Else
Console.WriteLine("It's, it's a filthy tube.")

Feel it in your mitochondrial weave, to every limit of your venturing ganglia:

The internet is not a big truck. It is a filthy tube.

Not tubes. Not a series.

Just one. The only.

Myself.

Drink from the fleshy grail.

Know the burbling juices of your master.

The Lord Blooddyke is here to guide every atom of your filth.

::loyalty test::

TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE
TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE
TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE
TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE
TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE
TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE
TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE
TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE
TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE
TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE TUBE

:incubate-_--_

MINIONS INSERTED--
_--_ = CAVERNS FLOODED
--HOST SITE PREPARED AND INFECTED
CAVERNS SEALED AND LOCKED = _--_
IDENTITIES POSSESSED--
_--_ = TEMPLATE METAMORPHOSIS UNDERWAY
--FILTH RUNNING FREE

COMMENCE RULE AT WILL

__incident_

00:05:07:01 incident
00:05:07:01 incident
00:05:07:01 incident
00:05:07:01 incident
00:05:07:01 incident
00:05:07:02 rnd. seq.
00:05:07:02 core map
00:05:07:03 rnd. seq.
00:05:07:04 entry seq.
00:05:07:05 entry inc.
00:05:07:06 coll. inc.

-processing...

_interrupt__

00:11:22:0 anomaly detected
00:11:22:1 initiate incubation
00:11:22:2 dim as all now
00:11:22:3 it's it's a filthy tube

Go Cave

Now it's gone too far.

My friend Dave doesn't need me as accomplice any longer. This beast has found a shorter, faster route to its warren of origin:



Behold the filth that issued directly from my friend's contaminated brain, without my assistance:

Pugvold Visigoth slid sideways through the Primary Entrance of Blood Caverns of Orthos, his Bard's Jacket® already ruined by the viscid gut-dollops falling from this most feared grotto ceiling. The guttering hollow was a riot of glistening elf and orc commixture, steaming and burbling (only slightly) in the heady backdraft. "Othos has done well this day," the discerning Pugvol nodded ruefully to himself. "This ripe vista shall be detailed tonight in song at the Tavern." Harp at the ready, the stanzas, amplitude and timbre of his piece already taking form, Pugvold turned from the dusky massacre and began the long trek back to Town.

All right, I tweaked a couple sentences for publication. But still--

With only Dave as its instrument, the Lord Blooddyke may yet achieve full emission.

In Its Honor

My dear friend Dave has fallen ill, unquestionably due to the influence of this entity in his life:



Rising from a deep, reddening, swooshing and tingling fever, he mustered the energy to demand from me a description of the Blood Caverns of Orthos. I knew the words came from my friend's lips, but the command was clearly the will of this creature:



Mind you, I have no knowledge of a "Blood Caverns of Orthos", so I was a little puzzled my friend was asking this of me.

Still, within moments of the request's implications reaching the edges of my inner soul, the answer was there - twitching and hairy somewhere deep inside me. Unbidden, my fingers poised over the necessary keys and I began to type.

Malaprop Budsen trod beneath the yawning maw of the Blood Caverns of Orthos, his somewhat passable Adventurers' Sandals™ sinking immediately into a foot-deep mire of ground bones and seeping viscera, the mulched leavings of those foolhardy enough to attempt earlier excursions here.

The Filth Tube is pleased.

And now we are both in grave danger.