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Page history last edited by Eloth 12 years, 9 months ago



A ghost, once trapped within the realm of Shadow, released by Apsalar

Apsalar: ' yet you speak the language of the Tiste Andii' (BH UK Tpb, p. 38)


Cotillion to Apsalar on Telorast and Curdle : 'They are now agents of Edgewalker.' (BH UK Tpb. p.81)


To Telorast : 'We were women once, remember..?' (BH UKTpb. p.171)


Bottle to Fiddler:'...why Apsalar has two dragons in tow?'

'They;re not dragons, they're tiny lizards-'.

'No, Sergeant, they're dragons.' (BH UKTpb. p.485)


Silchas to Olar Ethil - "Two undead dragons are seeking you.  I know them of old.  They will bow and scrape and swear fealty.  But in their hearts they are vile.

Olar Ethil sniffed.  "I thought I sensed … something.  On our trail.  You say you know them, while I do not.  I find that odd, given the world you and I once shared."

"From when the Eleint were unleashed, out through the Gate, seeking to claim realms to rule amidst the shattered remains of Kurald Emurlahn."  He paused, and then added,  "My own encounter with them was brief, but violent.  They are true spawn of T'iam.""Yet they travel together.  Why has neither one committed treachery upon the other?"

"I believe they are twins, Olar Ethil, hatched from a single egg as it were.  Among all the Eleint during the Wars of Shadow, they came closest to victory. (DoD)




The history of Telorast and Curdle as told to Olar Ethil


Olar Ethil suddenly stepped forward.  "True Eleint?  But that makes no sense!  Two who become one?  Soletaken?  A Tiste Andii Soletaken?  No, you twist every truth – I cannot believe a thing you say!"

"Look what you did, Curdle!  Now we – aagh!"

Telorast's cry came when Olar Ethil's bony hand snapped out, snaring the skeleton.  It writhed and strained in her grip.  She held in close, as if about to bite its head off.

"Tell her!"  Telorast shrieked.  "Curdle!  Tell her everything!"

"I will I will!  I promise!  Elder One!  Listen!  I will speak the truth!"

"Go on,"  said Olar Ethil.  Telorast now hung limp in her hand, as if lifeless, but Torrent could see the tip of its tail twitching every few moments.

Curdle leapt to a clear patch of dusty earth.  With one talon it inscribed a circle round where it stood.  "We were chained, Elder, terribly, cruelly chained.  In a fragment of Emurlahn.  Eternal imprisonment stretched before us – you could not imagine the torment, the torture of that.  So close!  To our precious prize!  But then, the three stood before us, between us and the throne.  The bitch with her fists.  The bastard with his dread sword.  Edgewalker gave us a choice.  Kilmandaros and the chains, or Anomander and Dragnipur.  Dragnipur!  We knew what Draconus had done, you see!  We knew what that sword's bite would do.  Swallow our souls!  No,"  the skeleton visibly shivered,  "we chose Kilmandaros."

"Two Eleint,"  said Olar Ethil.

"Yes!  Sisters –"

"Or lovers,"  said Telorast, still lying as if dead.

"Or that, yes.  We don't remember.  Too long ago, too many centuries in chains – the madness!  Such madness!  But then a stranger found us."

"Who?"  barked Olar Ethil.

"Dessimbelackis,"  said Curdle.  "He held Chaos in his hands.  He told us its secret – what he had made of it.  He was desperate.  His people – humans – were making a mess of things.  They stood as if separate from all the animals of the world.  They imagined they were the rulers of nature.  And cruel their tyranny, so cruel.  Slaughtering the animals, making the lands barren deserts, the skies empty but for vultures."

"Soletaken,"  said Olar Ethil.  "D'ivers.  He created a ritual out of chaos – to bind humans to the beasts, to force upon them their animal natures.  He sought to teach them a lesson.  About themselves."

"Yes, Elder.  Yes to all of that.  He brought the ritual to his people – oh, it was an old ritual, much older than Dessimbelackis, much older than this world.  He forced it upon his subjects."

"This tale I know well,"  said Olar Ethil.  "I was there, when we gave answer to that.  The swords of the T'lan Imass dripped for days.  But, there were no dragons, not there, not then."

"You'd begun the slaughter,"  said Curdle.  "He'd fled even before then, taking his D'ivers form –"

"The Deragoth."

"Yes.  He knew you were hunting him.  He needed allies.  But we were chained, and he could not break those chains.  So he offered to take our souls – and he brought us a corpse.  A woman.  Tiste Andii."

"Where did he come by it?"  Olar Ethil asked.  "Who was she?"

"He never told us.  But when he bound our souls to her, we stood – unchained.  We thought we were free.  We vowed to serve him."

"But you did not, did you?"

Curdle hesitated.

"You betrayed him."

"No!  It wasn't like that!  Each time we sought to semble into our true selves, the chains returned!  Each time, we found ourselves back within Emurlahn!  We were useless to him, don't you see?"

"Yet,"  said Olar Ethil,  "now, you can find your true selves –"

"Not for long.  Never for long,"  said Curdle.  "If we hold to our Eleint selves, the chains find us.  They steal us back.  These bones you see here – we can do this much.  We can take a body, one or two, and exist within them.  But that is all.  If we could reach the throne, we could break our bindings!  We could escape our prison!"

"You will never win that throne,"  said Olar Ethil.  "And, as you are, well, that is useless to me."

"Great Elder!  You could break those chains!"

"I could,"  she replied.  "But I have no reason to.  After all, why risk the enmity of Edgewalker?  Or Kilmandaros?  No, they chained you two for a reason.  Had you not sought the throne, you would have lived."