The Rantings of Ulir the Mad

Herein is a loose compilation of the rantings of Ulir the Mad

On Dragons:

“Dragons are the dreams of the wind-maddened and the lost. Their wings are the terror in all men’s hearts and their teeth the nightmare within the nightmare. I have seen dragons everywhere; tracery of their passing is the footfalls of war. Shadow, smoke, sleep-these are the dragon’s spirit. Blood their meal. The violence of my race, the fall of wonder-dragon’s torpor and sign of their fate. You come to me seeking the truth, I will point only at the door you came in through. Out, out, your answers are inside the out.“

On Lustrators:

“Thunder is the always the result of lightning, unless it’s manufactured. That’s what those steel clad dimwits are, lightning-less thunder. An echo with no origin, an ache in the heart caused by phantoms. I’ll tell you what needs luster, this oil-stained bar.”

On Fen Riders:

“Not all mazes have walls. The rivers that run south are sundered at the end, like a hand that forgot to stop birthing fingers. Long do the tributaries claw their marks south towards the lost ocean. Back back back, in the dawn of things was a tribe of men from distant eastern shores, paddling their way across the great reefs to the lands where crops now grow. Cursed were they, for the breaking of a promise to a feral god. Their hands became oar tips, their bodies shrunk, their appetites grew malicious. Driven down to the bottom of the land. Teeth in the water, teeth on the shores, wakeless boats scraping shallow fen floors. Ha! You’ll believe anything I say! Drink on, the night is early still.”

On The Stromcrown Traders

“Do you see there, to the east where the forest rises? Beyond there is a valley where once the half-men of the Stormcrown Isles settled. I have seen the remnants of their stunted edifices down the coast all the way to marshes. Ask this, ask that, I will tell you the only question of worth. What drove them off? See here this cube? Plain enough I agree. But can you see the perfection of its geometries? A man could spend a year filing and never accomplish such balance. Valuable? You gold-brained ”/campaign/ambertomes/wikis/rugmen" class=“wiki-page-link”> dump, you’re all gold-brained dumps! You come for stories of riches?! I have a thousand such tales for a thousand such men. But the question and the cube are worth the skies above this wretched town!"

On The Moontree

“That tree is a message. I sat for a week observing it with the nomads that call that scrubland home. I worked magics upon it and my work disappeared into its glassy trunk like a snowball thrown into an avalanche. One of the wanderers told me the limbs of tree point in the cardinal directions, but seem to move with the phases of the moon. A man could go mad contemplating that tree. Mad I say.”

On Red Hill

“Mariners tell tales of monsters in the form of shipwrecked survivors, who lure sympathetic sailors ashore only to devour them and sink their vessel. Red hill is the same. Red Hill is a waving survivor. Answer him if you will.”

The Rantings of Ulir the Mad

Tomes in Amber Meshon Meshon