Released by Imperial Decree

Sahadexia’s Visions of the Dibellan Worldflesh

The following was sent to our Archive of Mythic Cartography by Sahadexia, a priestess of the Dibellan art, during the first and last leg of her fabled “vision-tour of the heavens.” The wise and benevolent Empire of Man has seen fit to censor those parts deemed unfit for mortal eyes, and add a number of editorial footnotes, to clarify those passages that may confuse the less educated citizens of the Empire. Imperial officials would like to remind you that these changes have absolutely nothing to do with the recent restrictions placed on the Houses of Dibella by the Elder Council, and are solely for your well-being.

It should be taken with a grain of salt, as no mortal can truly comprehend the image of the Divines.

Geography

The surface is a throbbing mass of [NULL] steppes; distended, [NULL] outcroppings; tongue-textured grassland, and towering fold-mountains surrounding deep fissures of a personally familiar nature. The ground congeals around your feet with each step, pulsating quietly. Plantlife is rare, and comes mostly in the form of [rose-scented, almost seraphic flora]. To the south is a jungle of fur and gush, where an [order of wise but firm monarchs] rule; unfortunately, I have yet to witness it myself. The wind carries a chorus of chiming moans with it, their source a long mystery to me.

Inhabitants

The caretakers of this world are a race of angelic homunculi, stitched together from the spiritual mirrors of the Dibellan priesthood. My guide, for instance, wears the head of a Nibenese Rose (extinct in the Mundus) , the briasts of both a Nordic Bed-Wife and an [NULL], and the body of a Cyrodine priestess who, by divine providence, I believe to be my mother. None have hair; tradition dictates that any that is gifted to them be used for clothing. They live peaceful, meditative lives, at one with the land both literally and allegorically. I am told they have not seen a mortal since Reman, the [Virgin Emperor], who taught them [sacred arts] of his own devising, and was in turn taught the Dibellan Mysteries, which speak of the various pressure-points, nerve fibers, weak-spots, secret orifices and extraneous-subhearts of the exalted body, [though he was soon gently returned to His Throne at White-Gold, where he would rule for two decades].

Art

The artistic traditions of the caretakers bear striking similarities to those of the Dibella-cults in Nibenay; irregularity of form, softness of tone, and depth of emotional expression are all prized. Most art depicts distinctively [human] subjects, but distorted in shape and size; at first, the colors seem random and haphazard, but continued study slowly reveals intricate patterns of pink and red.

Goddess

I have had the privilege of seeing the Face of the Goddess once, accompanied by my guide and a tribal elder with the face of a moth. They lead me deep into the wilds at dawn, describing it to me. Each line contradicted the last, though they spoke as if telling a single narrative; she would come as a mountain or a star or a herd of cows; she would speak in tongues or cries or not at all; she would be the size of a tooth or a sword or a city. Our journey ended at the summit of a towering mountain, and what I saw was none of these at all.

The Face of the Goddess was composed of every body I had ever touched or seen touched, pressed together in the shape of a woman, the woman, all-women, myriad-one, unbridled by controlled-idea. Her eyes were starry caverns of pleasure, filled by the light of the sun. Her hair was a swirling tangle of colors unseen, shifting and glimmering beyond the mortal spectrum. On her skin were distorted patterns of red and pink, moving in tandem with the rhythm of her flesh. When she opened her lips, I saw a million acts of sanctified [LOVE] contained within, and the moans of the wind rose out, a hymn to the Divine Aesthete, Di-Bel-La.

(NOTE FROM THE ELDER COUNCIL: The will and whims of the Eight-and-One are far beyond mortal scope. Any symbolism inferred from the preceding text is entirely the fault of the reader, and does not reflect on the true nature of the Aedra Dibella).