KessiR's Artdump

This is just a little idea that came to me at work. Telatinea is a kind-of-OC, who’s a storyteller and an explorer, who loves to look for lore and history parts all over the desert. They also have a little mini-jellyfish as a lamp companion.

In case someone doesnt know wtf that creature is supposed to be, its supposed to resemble an Ammonite))

(Alas), Telatinea chimes. (Let me tell you the lore of the Mad Cladmonite.)

(From whence I came, way yon across the vast desert, deep down below the ancient city, which spans circularly around the mountain, a grand creature had been said to lurk, which my people used to call the mad cladmonite.)

(One of the lithic cloth harvester it is said to have been, a serpent clad it stone. Many a swarm of cloth it had gathered in its lingering at the bottom of the old city, its body was bloated to the point of bursting with fabric. Yet it kept harvesting ever and always, never ceasing to collect the cloth mercilessly, as in frenzy, squishing and squeezing every empty space left with fabric and synergy.)

(The fabric within it, trapped for centuries, howled and wailed and screeched at its dreadful confinement and squashing, yet their close affinity set the synergy imbued within their very weave aglow. And, as it always happens when the synergy remains in close proximity of its like for very long, the weaves within the harvester began to merge, breaking seams apart on one end and joining fibers on the other, forming long, continuous ribbons at their confluence. Enormous ribbons formed in the harvesters encasement, and the ever hungry harvester, continuously devouring the cloth, fed the growth of the ribbons e’en further.)

(The fabric, in its ever mourning howls, tore at the walls of lithic prison, and continued to grow, until finally – the amount of cloth could no longer be contained within the gluttonous harvester. The cloth had finally broken free, and in its rejoicing it tried to escape their former jailer. Yet, alas – The amount of cloth that had formed was too great and the folds had cramped too strongly, and it was stuck in the lithic remains of the harvester, unable to escape. Free it was indeed, to fly and to move about on its own will, yet never freed of its prison guard, ever bound to carry its burden on its aimless roaming though the circles of the ancient city.)

(The elders of my people say that the confinement to the harvester has turned the cloth… mad. Thus was it that they named it the mad cladmonite.) Telatinea sighs and pauses for a while. Recovering from the many long and deep chirps and chimes they had to produce to tell the story, they looked off to the peak, glittering in the distance.

After a while then, they gestures to the right foot of the mount.