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Untitled

from Flight of the Ivramoth by Zeffon

/

lyrics

iv. Untitled

"Hello, lovely. You find your spice shiny, eh?"

"What?" You try not to speak too loud.

"Oh, right. That's my drug self. Let's start over. I'm me. And you?"

"Uhhh... Ulysses... Para..."

The man interrupts you.

"Ibiksis Island is a mighty fine neighborhood, ain't it, Mister Paragi?"

You're confused. The man looks confused too. Apparently, the feeling's mutual.

The record stops. The man picks it off the player and puts another one on. This one you definitely recognize. It's a heavily damaged vinyl of "Treasure Trove", by an experimental artist in the Seraph Territories, one whose name you can't remember. The man suddenly slaps himself and drinks out of a leather pouch. He slaps himself again, this time harder.

"Bahhh... Got to stop it with all this alcohol. It's like I depend on it..."

He suddenly looks up.

"Oh hi! I didn't realize I had visito... Holy crap, you have blood running out of your mouth! Are you sure you're okay?

You had briefly forgotten that you had been shot. You feel around the back of your head for a bullet hole, but you fail to find one. Instead you wipe your chin.

"I'm fine..."

"Ah, good. That's kind of scary to see. So who are you?"

"Ulysses Paragi."

"Ah, okay. Where are you from?"

"Uh... Didn't you just find that out...?"

"No."

"Ibiksis Island. I'm the leader of that country."

The man seems confused. Then he reaches for the leather pouch and offers you a drink.

"Here. You'll probably want this."

"What is it?"

"It's a concoction I've made..."

"A concoction?"

"Yes. If you've been wounded out you, you need to protect yourself from... er... infections. It does send you for a loop, though."

The record stops playing. Suddenly the man looks about.

"There's been another execution."

"What?"

"Another one. It's a man from the Seraph Territories. He's been executed."

You don't what to conclude from this man's antics.

The man leaps up and grabs his knife. "I have to go," he says. "There's something I need to do."

He then looks at you.

"Actually, could you come along? I could use a wingman."

"For what?"

"Oh, you know. Leverage. Scare tactics. Assassinations."

"Who are you?"

He looks as though he's forgotten something. Snatching his trumpet off the table, he looks you. Despite the lack of dialogue, you instantly understand. This is Dr. Uy.

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from Flight of the Ivramoth, released February 16, 2013

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Zeffon Renton, Washington

:9:9:9...

Don't you dare even tend to catalog what lurks ominously in the dark...

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