Bookshelf (The Eleventh Hour)
Bookshelf
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- Location
- The Eleventh Hour
(Inner Nayos) - Type
- Book
- Interact
- Yes
- Destructible
- No
Bookshelves contain records found within Eparch's castle during The Eleventh Hour chapter.
Story involvement[edit]
Secrets of the Obscure story[edit]
- Act VI: The Midnight King
Text[edit]
As you pick up the object, a flood of sensations fills your mind.
Exhaustion. Wariness. Apprehension. Awe. Swelling pride.
We wait. Prostrate.
All eyes on an august face.
Our lives, hanging on spider's silk.
Bone and stone.
Seat of the Midnight King.
Now melded, essence and sinew.
By king's order, augmented.
By our claws, reshaped.
Power, strength.
Symbolic, corporeal.
Prostrate, we wait.
Eyes unmoving.
He lowers himself.
Will silken thread hold?
A smirk, nigh imperceptible.
Relief. Pride. Life.
Power, strength.
Seat, title.
Throne of Midnight.
Seat of the Midnight King.
As you pick up the object, a flood of sensations fills your mind.
Ancient stone. Fresh essence. Hunger. Fierce beauty. Unbreakable will.
A chalice, claw-wrapped.
With time, it brims.
She is all.
Divine, her voice.
The future, a vision.
Forever she sips.
In their minds, divinity speaks.
Dedicated, the many.
Selfless in devotion.
In offering. In sacrifice.
Chalice passed, aroma heady.
No more is time.
Indomitable, we few.
Many, we few.
Undying, we few.
Undying in death.
As you pick up the object, a flood of sensations fills your mind.
Cold tension. Grinding of fangs. Sour anguish.
Movement stilled.
Shouts. Murmurs. Silence.
The general. Back turned.
With him, countless.
Against him, more.
Edge of Zakiros.
Nyedra, a step.
A chasm.
A nexus.
A step.
Will he take it?
Will they allow it?
He steps.
A queenly snarl.
A kingly sneer.
But no more.
Another disquiet avoided.
For now.
The general, his house, his people.
Exile.
For now.
For now, we step.
As you pick up the object, a flood of sensations fills your mind.
Subsiding guilt. Diminishing fear. Security. Favor. Swelling pride.
Dominion consumes.
Cumbrous, the gifts of Mother and Midnight.
Given rarely.
Given freely.
High, the cost.
Dominion feeds.
Insatiable.
The unwitting.
The unworthy.
Herded.
Reduced.
To despair.
To terror.
To fuel.
To fog.
As you pick up the object, a flood of sensations fills your mind.
Fangs bared. Growling anger. Stifling fear. Looming shadows.
Fight or be still.
No fight. Still be still.
Forever still.
Fight and be before still!
Bosh, already still.
And Till. Till still.
King's feed.
Spitting in shadow.
Spire shadow. Death door.
Grink has no fight.
Fight and be here. Grink!
No fight and be still there, Grink.
Noise. Great fuss. Someone fights!
Grink growls. Grink knows!
Gray Ears!
Kind stranger. Ferocious stranger.
I am free.
We run! Run, Grink! Run, Gray!
Away! We Run!
We is me.
Where is Grink?
Where is Gray?
Are they still?
Will they be?
First run.
Later mourn.
"Y-you're so...hard," Krag Blastbore said. "Is this granite—you know what? Forget it. I thought we were goin' to talk before taking' the rite together." His hand traced the cool and unusually smooth stone surface of his mate's skin—if it could even be called that anymore—clasping one of his partner's rocky hands in his own. Their eyes met.
"I know," the other one said, seemingly lightless eyes shadowed by the flickering light of their house hearth. "The call—it came upon me. It pulled and whispered deeply into my soul until I could not but give in."
"Beryl..."
"I am still yours. Always will be. But there's someone else. The Great Dwarf is a bigger part of me now, as he'll soon be a part of you," Beryl Soothstone replied, giving his fleshy partner's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Moments of silence passed between the two before Krag found the stones to speak again, a cheeky grin spreading across his rosy face.
"Do you think we still can...you know..."
"Does a dolyak regrow its horns? C'mere, you!" Beryl laughed. The two toppled onto their bed with a cracking sound, the wooden frame protested under the stony Beryl's mass, both dwarves cackling as Krag planted a single kiss on his partner's statuesque cheek.
"Tell the Great Dwarf he can have me, then," Krag whispered, forehead to forehead.
"Anyone would be lucky to have you, love," Beryl replied, beaming.
On a more raucous night, any passerby would have seen the haunting blue shimmer from inside and heard the distant chants of dwarves past, but the pair slept—unaware, unbothered.
In the stale and musky air of the next morning, as the final embers in the hearth were breathing their last, the elemental heart of the dwarven home received a bellow of wind, reviving the old flame. Rising from their collapsed bed, the two stone dwarves grumbled and grouched before meeting the frigid Shiverpeak morning, warm without the fire, wrapped in the love of the Great Dwarf.
A small note is seen in the margin: For book club discussion: While I'd left my home before the first rite began, I've since learned that the Deldrimor transmuted into stone during ceremonies held by the high priests, usually in groups to save time. They would not have been sleeping in their homes or stark naked, as captivating as that may be.
Related achievements[edit]
The Midnight King: Voracious Reader — Find the books and artifacts scattered around Zakiros. (1
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