Ravenloft: Prisoners of the Mist

Within the swirling Mist (IC) => Tales Around the Campfire => Topic started by: bocian on April 28, 2017, 05:35:14 PM

Title: The dark worm of insanity
Post by: bocian on April 28, 2017, 05:35:14 PM

(Hieronymus Bosch, The Garden of Earthly Delights, right panel, detail)

  "Many people have a dark worm of insanity wandering through their bodies and minds. It is black, and has three large eyes, glittering with crimson. His long mouth ending with a maw serves him for spitting - he spits accurately like an outstanding marksman. He consumes our dreams; drinks them in the night, digests them and lets away for them to return at dawn, to show us the other worlds. Little, rustling paws allow him to move freely through every part of the body. So, it crawls out of a story, a poem, an event or belief, and it breaks in through the eye, ear or part of the skin to wander silently, looking for a place to stay. When it gets to the soul, a man starts to be dangerous to his integrity. When it reaches the mind, a man starts to be dangerous to those surrounding him. But, when it reaches the heart, a man falls in love with some other human being. Then, the world becomes dangerous for him, and every step might bring the bitter end.
  My own dark worm made the soul his home. Maybe, it is only an intermission, a break in a longer journey for him to regain strength. It's possible than some day he might want to proceed, and he'll choose the heart or the mind, inviting me to a fabulously serviced table of insanity or a pearl cave of love, where reason slumbers, the conscience awakens, and happiness is associated with reciprocity of someone's heart and not doing any harm to anyone. Then, I'll pass my final exam of foolishness."
- Waldemar Łysiak, "Flet z mandragory" (translated from Polish)
Title: Re: The dark worm of insanity
Post by: bocian on June 06, 2017, 04:47:00 PM
(Marcin Kołpanowicz, "Theatre of the world")

"Through the night, a golden cloud lay sleeping
On the breast of a gigantic rock ledge.
In the morning, early, off she hurried;
Through the azure, carefree, she went playing.

But a trace of moisture was still clinging
To the wrinkled rock ledge. Old and lonely,
He stood there as though in sad reflection—
In the empty spaces softly weeping."
- Mikhail Lermontov, "The Rock Ledge"
Title: Re: The dark worm of insanity
Post by: bocian on August 15, 2017, 02:53:57 PM

(Albrecht Durer "Melancholy")

"There are three days in the life of a man: day of birth, day of death, and the day of cogitation - the thought that reconciles with life."
- Waldemar Łysiak, "Kielich" (Translated from Polish)
Title: Re: The dark worm of insanity
Post by: bocian on June 11, 2018, 04:44:12 PM

(Alfred Wierusz-Kowalski, "Wolf")

We sat on a large stone and we waited for the dawn to come. We waited wordlessly. (…) A breathtaking silence of a beautiful landscape created a bond that we usually feel only for those so close to us, that we can be with them silently, understanding each other endlessly. I thought it's too sentimental, that it's a senseless weakness, and I stood up. For a long moment I stood there, blinded by the sun shining in my eyes. Then the old man spoke.
– A frog dreams of wings, though it forgets that its fate, a stork, already has them.
I turned to face him.
– Are you speaking about me?
– I am speaking about myself. About you, too. About all of us... I don't know what to do, young man.
– I told you what to do, old man. Convert those in this place and don't return to Nolibab, or they'll kill you.
– But not with your hands, is that right?
– How can you tell?
– Because you'd rather kill yourself than me.
I shrugged my shoulders. My voice took even more dry tone.
– Don't try to convert me, it's pointless. There's too much hatred in me, old man.
– I see it, I don't want to convert you. There's too much hatred for yourself in you.
– What do you mean?
– I mean that you should embrace yourself sometimes, young man.

- Waldemar Łysiak, "Statek" (Translated from Polish)