Phyrlis
Name: Phyrlis
Pseudonyms: none
Age: unknown
Race: Jaghut
Appearance: her body is merged with that of a tree
Warren: Omtose Phellack
'A lone tree stood on ground that was the summit of a hill that in turn abutted a larger hill. Sheltered from the prevailing winds, it had grown vast, its bark thin and peeling as if it was skin unable to contain the muscular breadth underneath. Branches as thick around as Karsa’s thigh reached out from the massive, knotted trunk. Its top third was thickly leaved, forming broad, flattened canopies of dusty green.'(HoC, UK Trade, p.512)
'The Jaghut woman’s body remained visible here and there, revealing that the tree had indeed grown around her. Yet a single shaft of wood emerged from just behind her right collarbone, rejoining the main trunk along the side of her head.(HoC, UK Trade, p.513)
Cynnigig:'Dear Phyrlis was a child – no, a babe, still suckling from her mother’s breast – when a band of T’lan Imass ran them down. The usual fate ensued. The mother was slain, and Phyrlis was dealt with also in the usual fashion – spitted on a spear, the spear anchored into the earth. None could have predicted what then followed, neither Jaghut nor T’lan Imass, for it was unprecedented. That spear, wrought of native wood, took what it could of Phyrlis’s lifespirit and so was reborn. Roots reached down to grip the bedrock, branches and leaves sprang anew, and in return the wood’s own lifespirit rewarded the child. Together, then, they grew, escaping their
relative fates. Phyrlis renews the tree, the tree renews Phyrlis.’(HoC, UK Trade, p.513-4)
Cynnigig on Phyrlis: 'She can never see beyond the leaves in front of her face, though she ceaselessly strives to do so, as if the vast panorama offers something other than time’s insectile crawl.'(HoC, UK Trade, p.512)
'The tree and all it's branches... were wrapped in spider's webs...and beneath that glittering shroud, the face of a Jaghut stared back at him.' (HoC, uk mmpb, p.694, UK Trade, p.513)
The Odhan Azath
‘You’ve done well, disguising the remains.’
‘The foundations survive, of course. The House’s walls. The anchorstones
in the yard’s corners – all beneath my cloak of soil.’
‘Foolish, unmindful T’lan Imass, to drive a spear into the grounds of an Azath House.’
‘What did they know of houses, Cynnigig? Creatures of caves and hide tents. Besides, it was already dying and had been for years. Fatally wounded. Oh, Icarium was on his knees by the time he finally delivered
the mortal blow, raving with madness. And had not his Toblakai companion
taken that opportunity to strike him unconscious . . .’
‘He would have freed his father.’ Cynnigig nodded ..
..Icarium’s father had no desire to be saved. And so the House died,
weakening the fabric . . .’
‘Sufficiently for the warren to be torn apart. (HoC)
Phyrlis on the Azath ‘No, it is dead – all that survived of its lifespirit moved into the spear.'
