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Runtime	Break start
3h 40m	1h 25m

Episode 11: Make Merry

We are here in the dungeons of Castle Delawney (where we have just seen in a beautiful contrapposto) holding an ornament before him, dressed in regal robes, a statue of a Nama (a lion folk warrior) that you recognize. Your brother. A perfect statue of him. You look over at an altar covered in ropes and chains (and you see pulleys hanging from the wall as though to bind and manipulate their captives into shape).
In a corner, you see a chest filled with what first looked like soiled rags (but you realize are actually uncleaned finery of lords and people who dwell here in the castle). After all they don’t make statues of former rebel soldiers. They make statues of lords and ladies. Dress them up, bind them to the table, turn them to stone, throw them on the cart.
You see this horse with a now badly-singed cart. Looks pretty alarmed. You look up and see a large Kahadi wolfhound (a statue of one) on the back of the cart and two other figures. You look down and see the unmistakabel visage of your brother. A little leaner, maybe. Been running on his own through the woods for about a week before they caught him. The look on the face of the statue is distant. There’s something strange about the expression.
He looks mournful, as the other statues here do, sort of pushed and forced against their will into these poses that would make them seem plausible for transport. Statuesque.
But his eyes. There’s something in his eyes, like he’s searching for something. It looks oddly familiar to you. You don’t know why you see yourself in this expression. But it’s a face. He inherited that face from your father. There was a look that your father would get. A middle distance, almost like you weren’t looking at something physically present in the space, but even though it seemed somehow distracted, it was like he was more present in those moments. More thoughtful, more aware, somehow.
Scattered around the bodies of the dead, it smells insane here. Blood. The smell of iron and damp stone. You see that the basilisk’s corpse is now largely turning to stone as stalagmites are growing out of its skull, anchoring it to the ground, but you can see that its tongue is still wet and lolling out. There are some parts of its body that appear to be, in a way that perhaps was somewhat immune to petrification, although other parts of it are not. So you see its weird twitching tongue.
Teor:“Kattigan, I need the blood, the organs of whatever that creature is.”