Gardragit Beholds Poofuff
Now hear the story of how Gardragit won pretty Poofuff in battle, and how it led to the ruin of two great domains.
Gardragit was a Borgokog and ruler of Chut, a domain whose stone architecture taught the world that buildings can be art, and whose meals enticed natha from almost every other domain, and whose singing and dancing and painting and theatre regularly won at foreign festivals. This was a place whose beauty rivaled even the great forest Thelethy, whose ruler Feyjiji was Gardragit’s good friend.
One day Feyjiji said to Gardragit, “There is a wondrous boy for you to see, if you will venture with me through the Desolation. His name is Poofuff, and if he were here Chut would be the most beautiful place in the world. Taking him would do him a welcome service, for he resides in the bleak land of Backet, and you will believe me when I say he is by far the most precious thing amongst those grim folk.”
“It is no great praise to be prettier than the Backeters,” said Gardragit.
“Perhaps not,” said Feyjiji, “but Poofuff is the most beautiful of all natha. I would have taken him for my own domain, but I lack the strength to overcome the Backeters.”
“Surely I am not much stronger than you,” said Gardragit.
“Not a bit,” said Feyjiji, “but your subjects are loyal and intelligent, and numerous withal. You could amass an army to retrieve the gorgeous boy and retain vassals enough to defend your domain from subsequent retribution, which would certainly follow in the wake of so devastating a loss– so great a prize is Poofuff!”
“I will witness his beauty, but I doubt any natha is worth such a costly campaign.”
“My meager words do him a disservice,” said Feyjiji. So together they ventured through the Desolation, and ate three specters during the course of their travels, even though good Jeepjibbit had tamed them.
When they arrived at the monolithic wall of Backet, a big natha with a bad helmet approached from within the gate and said, “You are not welcome in Backet! Go away or you will die.”
“You will forgive my ignorance,” said Feyjiji, “but I am unaccustomed to the culture here, and do not fully understand your remark. I believe you told a joke, for the notion that a natha such as yourself could harm me is infinitely amusing; but perhaps I misheard you, and I would not presume to laugh out of turn.”
At this the stupid natha roared, and cursed at the Borgokogs, and did many other vile things with his body which I will not deign to transcribe here. Then with a flick of his serpentine hair he retreated within the gate, shouting and belching at the same time, until the very sky above them darkened with his hatred.
“What a wretched domain this is,” said Gardragit.
“Do not let the Backeters vex you, for our quest is worth their unpleasantness,” said Feyjiji. And so they passed through the gate after the foul guard.
Inside they found a place which to Gardragit looked long-abandoned, for its buildings were nearly all in some state of destruction, and many of them overrun with vines; and all over were horrid mounds of dirt like those left by burrowing creatures. But of course Backet was not abandoned. All around were hideous natha, some who stared at them from within the dirt-mounds, others who deliberately crossed their path and tried to trip them, some who climbed and swung from the stone-trees which loomed overhead, and others still who ran amok singing discordant melodies and laughing even as tears fell from their eyes.
“I cannot bear the smell of this place,” said Gardragit. For she smelled the rotting fruit and carcasses that the Backeters loved to eat.
“If you are so easily discouraged then perhaps you do not deserve Poofuff’s beauty,” said Feyjiji, and it was well that she did so, for Gardragit did not complain further.
Soon a repulsively thin natha fell upon them from the sky, growling and writhing and winking at them in such a manner that the two Borgokogs could not tell whether it was angry or delighted or in great pain. So rather than offend it with an inappropriate greeting, they merely stood and watched its terrible dance for several long moments, until it became clear that the grotesque creature would offer no clues to its emotional state, at which point Feyjiji finally spoke to the thing. “It is a pleasure to meet you, natha,” she said, though this pleasantry was a perverted lie. “Tell me if there is anything you require.”
The natha did not appear to hear her, and instead continued its writhing and snarling and winking.
“Perhaps we should continue as though we have not been so accosted,” said Gardragit.
“No, for to do so would be an unforgivable offense in Backet, and we are yet too early in our endeavors to incur the wrath of the Backeters. Until we have sequestered the goodly Poofuff, we must act in accordance with their laws.”
“Then perhaps we should feed this awful thing so that it will leave us alone,” said Gardragit.
“Perhaps. Do you have any food?”
“Alas, I have none,” said Gardragit.
“Then stay here while I find some. Do not leave this natha.” And so Feyjiji abandoned Gardragit to the pitiful monstrosity before them.
Now Gardragit was exceedingly uncomfortable, for the thing edged ever closer to her, and even incorporated her in its gruesome dance, slithering about her form in a distressing way. And though Gardragit longed to cry out for help, or wrestle the creature from her body, she dared not do anything at all lest the law of Backet be turned against her. “What a lamentable situation I find myself in,” she thought. “Surely no beauty in all the domains is worth this quest’s torments.” She would later change her mind several times regarding this sentiment: first after witnessing Poofuff’s supreme beauty and deciding that her troubles hitherto were indeed warranted, and again after suffering far worse woes and realizing that Poofuff’s beauty was not worth those greater torments.
More natha gathered around as Gardragit contemplated, until it seemed the domain’s entire population must surround her, except she could hear the awful cries and singing of others in the distance. A film of Backeter sweat formed underfoot; the stench was such that Gardragit nearly fainted. Then an ominous chant arose as the natha undulated all about her.
“What are they doing?” she thought. “I have no response for this. Perhaps it is only a greeting– these people are so peculiar that it may well be. Very well! I shall worry no more, for worrying accomplishes naught; and anyway Feyjiji told me to stay where I am, so I shall obey. But what a nervous wretch I am! Feyjiji would not be frightened in my stead. I only wish I knew what they were saying to me, that I might respond in kind– how terribly rude I must appear to these strange creatures! Perhaps a smile will satisfy them.” And so Gardragit forced herself to smile at the abominations who presently danced and chanted around her.
At this, the first skinny natha howled in either rage or elation and climbed up Gardragit, circling her body until it perched atop the dumbfounded Borgokog’s head, whereupon it screeched and moaned and laughed and sputtered until Gardragit’s ears rang and her neck ached with the thing’s startling weight.
“Ah! This I cannot abide,” she thought, and thus thinking declared, “Good Backeters, I have heretofore endured your cruelties with dignity and patience, but with this offense you have overstepped the bounds of common decency, and I will not allow these discourtesies to continue. Dismount my sacred head or you shall suffer the wrath of Borgokogs far greater than the ruler of this loathsome domain, whosoever that may be; or else explain to me what ritual this is, that I may at least understand my current predicament and judge your behavior according to your foreign customs.”
At this one of the dancing natha came forth and said, “Friendly visitor, all this we have done to welcome you hospitably, as your great standing no doubt demands. If we have in any way offended you then we are most grieved, for such a greeting is reserved for only our most honored guests.”
“Ah! Then please forgive my insolence,” said Gardragit, much ashamed. “For all that, I have come to rather enjoy this natha’s lithe form upon my head, and I wear her proudly, like a crown.”
“Yes! A crown indeed,” laughed the snarling natha.
“As penance for my outburst, I would like to participate in your culture as far as I am able, only first you must educate me.”
“That we shall,” they replied in unison. “First you must squat down to the ground without touching your palms to the rock. This shows that you are close to our land, as a friend is close to another friend.” And so Gardragit squatted with the natha atop her head. Seeing this the other natha all cackled and screamed.
Then they said, “Now you must stand upright again. This shows your superior standing.” And so Gardragit stood with buckling knees and sore shoulders and an aching back. It was a pitiable sight, or it would have been, had anyone with even a pinch of empathy been present to witness Gardragit’s disgrace. As it was, no pity was spent on poor Gardragit. And the natha all cackled and screamed.
Then they said, “Now you must jump up and down. This shows that you are joyful, much like our hearts now that we have met so esteemed a Borgokog as you seem to be.” Gardragit did not understand how jumping with a natha on her head had any connection to their hearts, symbolic or otherwise; but she imagined they were not speaking in their native tongue, so she accepted it as an idiom lost in translation. Therefore Gardragit jumped up and down with the natha perched upon her head, though it caused her great pain to do so, and she was exhausted after only a few feeble hops. But the assembled natha cackled and screamed, “More! More! More!” And they, too, jumped up and down, and some even climbed atop their neighbors, that they might better imitate Gardragit’s humiliation. The sky brightened to a searing blaze that stung Gardragit’s eyes and heightened her great suffering. Now tears flowed from her aching eyes and mingled with her dripping sweat, and these fluids fed the foul puddle beneath her until each tortured hop was accompanied by a filthy splash, and this pleased the Backeters very much.
Then Feyjiji returned with a single gokkfruit, and when she saw the shameful display at hand she was sore aggrieved. “Gardragit!” she cried. “I told you not to move, nor to engage with the natha, yet here I see you disobeying me on both counts. Stop hopping immediately.” And Gardragit was relieved to do so. “Now explain what has happened here,” said Feyjiji.
“The natha told me this was their customary greeting,” Gardragit gasped.
“It is no greeting I have ever seen, nor heard of. You have been tricked. And look at yourself! You are a disheveled mess. How can you hope to win the love of Poofuff in such a sorry state? I can barely bear to look upon your flushed face, and I am your friend.” Then Feyjiji hurled the gokkfruit at the natha atop Gardragit’s head, and the creature fell to the wet rock beneath with a great splash that soaked all present, even Feyjiji.
“I thought we were not to anger the Backeters,” said Gardragit.
“Anger them! Were I to cause them half the distress this ordeal has inflicted on me, they would die of indignation. And again you have failed to heed my words, for I said nothing of angering them, only obeying their laws, which so far I have done.”
“But I was trying to obey their laws,” wept Gardragit, and now Feyjiji saw how her words had pained the Borgokog, and she took pity on her. “Be still, my friend,” said Feyjiji, “for you are not defeated.” Feyjiji then waved her arms in such a threatening gesture that all the natha dispersed in either terror or contentment.
“I find the Backeters’ behavior unsettling,” said Gardragit. “I fear that even if Poofuff’s beauty is as great as you claim, his demeanor will be entirely revolting, having spent all his life amongst such foul folk as these.”
“His beauty is of such a divine sort that it renders his remaining characteristics irrelevant. You would suffer naught from even the most grievous affronts he might conceivably lay upon you, for with a single glance upon his perfect form you would forget all grievances and thereupon be smitten once again with his glory. Yet I think it would not come to that, for Poofuff has not spent all his life here. He was taken by the Backeters only within recent years, and therefore cannot have been entirely corrupted by them. So you see it is foolish and unfair to judge Poofuff by the behavior of his neighbors.”
Now Gardragit was justly rebuked and did not resume her complaints at present. “Forgive my foolishness,” she said. “I still would look upon pretty Poofuff, if I may.”
“Certainly you may, but not in your present attire, soiled as it is with your sweat,” said Feyjiji.
“But I brought no other clothes than these,” said Gardragit. So Feyjiji wiggled her eyebrows until a torrent of water burst forth about Gardragit, cleansing her utterly. Then her hair shone with a luster unknown to mortals, and it was unburdened by the weight of the water, and her skin was clear and radiant, and her dress had neither wrinkles nor stains, and she was more gorgeous than any portrait could ever be; whatever you presently imagine would be an insult to Gardragit’s perfect beauty.
“Now you need not be ashamed to appear before Poofuff,” said Feyjiji. So they ventured further into Backet. Now the natha paid them little attention, having satisfied themselves with their earlier scheme, and the two Borgokogs traveled unharried. Then they reached the central fortress, a building dismally decorated with tattered tapestries of rusty oranges and loathsome browns and unforgivable greens. “Poofuff resides within,” said Feyjiji, and she opened the door.
Then an exoskeletal assemblage of legs fell from the tower onto Gardragit. The Borgokog shrieked and thrashed about, but could not tear the thing from her. So Feyjiji grabbed the creature by its carapace and flung it to the ground, and it scuttled up the tower and stretched all its legs across the doorway so the Borgokogs could not enter.
“It is merely a Shrogtig,” said Feyjiji. “Pull on its antennae and it will fall.”
So Gardragit tentatively reached toward the thing and pulled two of its antennae. And the Shrogtig burst open into a swarm of wriggling things which scuttled in all directions. Gardragit stepped back to avoid them, but Feyjiji said, “They are not dangerous. They are chiitiis, and they are delicious.”
So Gardragit grabbed a chiitii which had climbed onto her, and ate it. And she said, “My natha could make a fine dessert of this. If Poofuff is as beautiful as you say, we will eat these chiitiis together in Chut for our first meal.” And she scooped a portion of chiitiis into her flesh-pouch.
Then she followed Feyjiji into the fortress and discovered that the stink without was like a blooming fetha-flower compared to the putridity within. “What rottenness is this?” cried Gardragit.
Feyjiji hurled the insolent Borgokog into the stone wall of the foyer. “Do not insult the Great Fortress Backy! For we are guests here and cannot afford to be thrown out before our goal is achieved.” Then she dragged Gardragit up ten million flights of stairs until they came to the highest tower in all of Backet, which was called Gitchy Damm Tower due to the preponderance of gitchies therein. Along the way they were confronted by many guards and servants, but these were either peacefully appeased by Feyjiji’s cunning diplomacy, or quietly slain by her dextrous hand and hidden away within the masonry of the tower, greatly adding to its strength and mystique; and Feyjiji in later years became a minor hero amongst the Backeters for so enhancing the glory of the Great Fortress Backy.
At the top of Gitchy Damm Tower they entered a tiny room encircled by windows overlooking all of Backet. Here they found a boy of such radiant naked beauty that Gardragit fell to her knees and wept, for never in her life had she beheld anything so lovely, nor would she ever see its equal. The words of mortals cannot convey the unblemished divinity of that perfect form, so I will not waste your time with my feeble attempts. But know that if you had seen this boy, you would have died utterly, so you may be grateful for your ignorance. And Gardragit knew at once that this was Poofuff.
“I have done nothing wrong,” said Poofuff, and Gardragit wept anew, for his voice was just as lovely as his body, and she was filled with the horror that until now her entire life had been sorely deficient.
Feyjiji was not so affected, and she spoke thus to the boy: “We ask nothing of you except that you go with my friend Gardragit and leave this place to live in her domain Chut, where you will assuredly be more comfortable and appreciated than you are here, for hers is a domain that adores beauty.”
“Will you imprison me?”
“Answer him,” said Feyjiji, and she pulled Gardragit to her feet and forced the Borgokog to look upon Poofuff once more.
“I would never imprison you,” said Gardragit.
“Will you punish me?”
“I would never punish you,” said Gardragit.
“What will you do to me?”
“I will love you,” said Gardragit.
“Then I will love you also,” said Poofuff, and he embraced Gardragit, and at once all her worries were forgotten, and she determined that this quest was indeed worth her travails. “Let us return to Chut with this wonderful boy,” she said.
But Feyjiji replied, “No, we cannot simply take Poofuff from the Backeters: they will not allow us to escape. Rather you must amass an army to lay siege to Backet and either force a surrender or violently extract Poofuff.”
Gardragit, though greatly dismayed by the delay, recognized the wisdom in Feyjiji’s advice and agreed that it should be as she suggested. “Goodbye, goodly Poofuff,” said Gardragit, “until we are reunited in Chut, whereupon we shall live in perfect happiness together.”
“In the interim I shall think of nothing but you,” said Poofuff.
“And I shall think of nothing but you,” said Gardragit. And Feyjiji again had to drag Gardragit, for the Borgokog could not bring herself to part from Poofuff. Then the two Borgokogs descended from that tower and left Backet, and the Backeters were glad to see them go, and the Borgokogs were glad to be gone.
The Siege on Backet
At length they returned to Chut. There Gardragit assembled her natha and said unto them, “Hear me, my natha! I have found a beautiful boy whose presence would divinely elevate this domain, and every one of you would rejoice to look upon him. But he is a prisoner of Backet, so we must rescue him. Half of you I shall send against Backet to take the perfect Poofuff, while the other half of you shall remain here to defend our sacred domain from the evil Backeters.” The natha were joyful to hear her speak thus, and could hardly wait to see what beauty had so inspired their ruler, and hoped to earn great glory in Gardragit’s service. So they divided themselves accordingly.
Of infantry there were forty-five thousand. They wore steel cuirasses over their noble torsos, all adorned with intricate reliefs in the latest Chutter fashion; and decorative scarves over their leather gorgets; and frilled bracers and greaves on their athletic limbs, designed by the natha Impswich before his sadness; and helmets topped with brilliant fervenbirde feathers, individually selected for their color and softness. And their swords had shimmering hilts, and their spears had decorated shafts.
Of archers there were twenty thousand. They wore perfectly tailored gambesons, fringed at the hems, with twenty layers of cooling Chutter cotton beneath kurghat leather; and belts bound with buckles depicting their proclaimed virtues; and leather finger-tabs that matched their painted finger-nails, a fashion which had gained popularity only after Thevwik’s humiliation. And they had feathered helmets also, in the angular style.
Of catapulters there were twenty-five thousand. They wore vibrant silk surcoats with insignia of their own design; and under these were chainmail hauberks, for theirs was a dangerous duty; and against their bodies were wool tunics gifted by their closest companions, so they would not feel alone in battle; and on their heads were gleaming helmets, smooth and round; and underneath were arming caps so padded that no hammer of war could inflict even a headache; and on their feet they wore socks of the softest sort; and over these the best boots in the world, for a catapulter needs a good boot.
Of banner-bearers there were three thousand. They wore magnificent suits of scale armor modeled after the deadly tevbytes of the Yevves Wastes; and helmets with fur more beautifully colored than the vramphen; and underneath were colored coifs of their favorite hues; and matching these were their chromatic iron faulds, which recalled the Essi dancing-skirts that had tricked the Tuubuutites; and those in turn matched the spaulders on their shoulders, for they too were forged from the Sturventeen steel; but contrasting these were the solemn besagews hanging beneath, which in peace-time they threw as discs; and their hands, which held their noble banners, were guarded by glinting gauntlets; and their feet, which never stepped out of time, even in the frenzy of battle, marched inside shining sabatons. They were accordingly the best-protected of all the Chutters, for it is a portentous omen to see one’s banner fall.
Of musicians there were four thousand. They wore himblehats whose brims shielded them from both sun and rain; and blouses in honor of Twimbat, who had worn nothing else after she ceased to sing; and vests of velvet as famously depicted in Brivwith’s performer series, with complimentarily colored buttons fashioned from steel, for this was a military uniform; and tights patterned after the tiles in Gardragit’s melody chamber; and leather boots laced all the way to the knee. And their instruments were struck and plucked and blown and bowed.
Of dancers there were three thousand. They wore dresses of doolyworm silk in the style of Climnana, intimately fitted to their dextrous figures, and flowing like liquid with their every graceful gesture; and they waved similarly silken ribbons with which they conjured spectacles and feelings; and their hair was braided according to their section, with bows tied in the fashion of their mentors; and their sparkling makeup highlighted their eyes, so all who looked upon them could clearly see their joy and thereby be emboldened; and adorning their ears were rings for each battle they had danced; and on their feet were the toe-shoes Climnana had championed, insisting that they were no more ridiculous than gloves, and far more beautiful, for they showcased a heretofore under-appreciated aspect of the dance which she’d said should be celebrated, not hidden. And if Climnana had lived to see her art so spectacularly adapted she would have wept for joy.
And the great glowing Dooloolyworm marched as well.
Thus a hundred thousand radiant natha marched at Gardragit’s command. It was the most beautiful army to ever assemble, not only in appearance, but also in sound, for they sang Chutter songs in gorgeous harmony, including the divine odes which, though written during Forbure’s isolation, now joined an entire domain in joyous solidarity. Gardragit shed a smiling tear to see such lovely legions, and her approval filled their hearts with good cheer.
But when they came to Backet they were somewhat dismayed, for despite the clear weather all was dismal and ugly there, and the breeze did not blow, so their banners did not look so beautiful. Then they were greeted by the same natha who had earlier harassed Gardragit and Feyjiji. And in the presence of that great army he pushed his hand into his throat and vomited.
Then the Chutter horn announced their general’s intention to parley. The Chutter general was Goak, a revered beauty and acclaimed culinary mastermind, who had personally arranged the much-lauded marching meals for this campaign, and whom Gardragit had chosen to create a new chiitii dessert for Poofuff upon her return. And for this reason Gardragit had asked that Goak not put herself in any undue danger during the battle.
So Goak sent her messenger Molves to the gate of Backet. And all the Chutters clapped their hands, honoring and encouraging that brave messenger; and the clapping continued until Molves reached the gate. And then the guard belched in his face. Then Molves said, “Hark! We are sent by our ruler Gardragit to retrieve the boy Poofuff. Relinquish him unto us, or face the full force of our army.”
And the Backeter said, “I would like to see what quaint displays you Chutters have been rehearsing in the safety of your borders.”
“For the second time I offer you a chance to surrender Poofuff,” said Molves. “But I will not make the offer again.” By now the guard was bored, and struck off Molves’s head just above the jaw, and when his body fell the Chutters could see their messenger’s silent tongue. So the Chutters drew their weapons and wiggled their fingers and shouted “Huh! Huh!” And thus the battle began.
It began, as many Chutter battles did, with the dancers on their wagons performing gestures and stunts so wondrous you would have wept to witness them; and the infantry thereby advanced with a view of Chut’s beauty.
Among the charging infantry was bold Erqueth, who had earned her rank by lying about her battle prowess, when in fact this was her first fight. Erqueth had heretofore accomplished nothing of note. “And you will accomplish nothing as a soldier,” her friend Vori had said, “for you lack the fighting temperament. You certainly won’t reach the tower which holds Poofuff. But if you must go, then I shall fight beside you, for you will need my help, as always.”
So now Vori charged beside her. And they did not falter as their allies fell to the stones and spears and fouler things which spewed from the Backet wall.
And as they approached, Erqueth saw her comrades leading the great Chutter Dooloolyworm toward the stone Backet wall, and she heard the horn that heralded its arrival, and her heart swelled with Chutter pride. For it was as beautiful as any everyday doolyworm, except it was huge; and like other doolyworms, this beast ate minerals. But it would not eat the foul Backet ground. So when it reached the hulking stone gate of Backet, the Dooloolyworm gnawed at its surface until a hole emerged. And the sacred glow of that creature pierced the gloom of Backet so that all Chutters in its presence felt no fear.
But then a strange thing happened. For the Backeters did not remain safe on the wall, as you might expect; nor hidden in the towers, as they could have done; but they leapt down into the advancing Chutters to fight face to face with the beast. And the Backeters wore mismatched and rusted armor, and some of them wore only leather in strange places, and some of them wore nothing at all, and some of these were slathered in blood. And with their cruel weapons the Backeters killed the Dooloolyworm and snuffed its glow.
When Erqueth saw that lovely creature so shamefully slain she squealed with Chutter rage. Then she ran to its marvelous carcass, and together with Vori and others she lifted its rigid body and thrust it against the gate until it crumbled; and all the Chutters sighed in solemn appreciation for the dead Dooloolyworm. And then they whistled in celebration of their success.
“Vori,” cried Erqueth, “we have breached Backet! Let us enter together and show them the glory of Gardragit!”
“Perhaps you have found your calling after all!” said Vori. And he considered apologizing for demeaning his friend earlier, but an apology would only distract Erqueth from the dangers around her, so he resolved to give it after the battle. But of course that did not happen.
Now they charged toward the open gateway. But a Backeter leapt from the wall onto Erqueth, knocking her to the ground in a fierce melee. And she would have died then, had honest Orvit not sliced off the Backeter’s sword-arm.
But Erqueth did not thank her savior, as they deserved, for at that moment she heard horrible howls from the gate ahead. And turning to look she saw her allies writhing in steaming filth which the Backeters poured from the arch’s murder-holes. Among the burning Chutters were Gresneth the architect, who had designed the shrine to Borve’s memory; Hroksi the organizer, who had opened the Primfabinin Festival to foreign artists, a fiercely controversial change which later earned Gardragit’s public praise; Abtribbis the caretaker, who had stayed with Thrind when all others forsook them; Laybordin the builder, who had always sung as he repaired his neighbors’ homes; Saybid the server, who had revolutionized Chutter dining by prioritizing joy-moments between diners, servers, and cooks; Ulanalin the mediator, who had reconciled Reveegis and Urnt; Wyechess the orator, whose peculiar voice had risen from ridicule to renown; Erbit the designer, whose wheeled chair had restored Bagfud’s mobility; and Vori the encourager, who had so recently marched beside Erqueth. So Erqueth watched as those Chutters melted into a puddle of bones and organs and liquid flesh, and she saw dear Vori reduced to an eyeball floating in the mess, until a wave of Backeters burst through the gateway and trampled the remains.
Then Erqueth fled back into the Chutter ranks, and spent many moments heaving on the wretched ground. And she wished she had not volunteered for this war. But soon she regained her composure and bemoaned her cowardice. “Vori did not die so I could cry,” she thought. “I will avenge him while there is strength in my body.”
Then she saw a noble Chutter fly over her and onto the Backet wall, flung by a catapult whose engineer now cheered beside Erqueth. So she asked to be catapulted as well, and when the engineer asked if she had been trained accordingly she nodded, and she joined the line of catapulters awaiting their chance to fly. And she did not quail as those ahead of her flew to their deaths, impaled by Backeter blades and bolts. Among the killed catapulters were Hulliol the storyteller, who was speared through the belly; and Brevko the embroiderer, who was shattered by a brick. When Erqueth’s turn came she sat bravely in the bowl, and when the catapult launched her she soared through the bleak Backet air. Of course she did not know how to safely land such a leap, and the engineer stared in horror at her dreadful descending posture; but in this case it did not matter, for a Backeter on the wall cushioned her fall by chance, and her impact sent him cackling to the ground.
Thus Erqueth scaled the Backet wall, and she saw other Chutters do likewise from other catapults, and she almost smiled to see their success. Then she saw the twisted spires of Gitchy Damm Tower and cried, “Poofuff awaits our rescue!” So the Chutters whistled as they overcame the Backeters on the wall. And they also slew the Backeters at the murder-holes, so Chutters could enter through the gateway. Thus fifty thousand Chutters entered Backet.
Now Erqueth climbed down a stone-tree into a strange land filled with sordid structures strewn about, and she could not tell if they were houses or temples or ruins, but she knew that Backeters lurked within them. And the stench was such that she nearly swooned. But she covered her nose with her scarf, and hastened toward the tower, and did not trip on the cracked ground, nor fall into the land-holes, as many Chutters did. But she did sink into a mud pit. Then her armor was a deadly hindrance, and she feared she might drown before regaining her stance. And when she managed to push herself onto her knees, an advancing Chutter accidentally trampled her. Then a Backeter leapt into the mud to brawl with her. And that Backeter stabbed Erqueth under the arm with his dagger, and he could have killed her, but instead he watched her painfully stand before he screamed in joy and ran away to skewer someone else.
Erqueth staunched her wound with a Chut banner whose bearer had fallen, and this was a hideous offense to that great domain, but in her agony she did not mind her decorum. Then she looked to Gitchy Damm Tower and saw a mound of corpses at its base, with warriors fighting atop the fallen. Among the dead Chutters was Morni the farmer, who had crossed the Brecdan uneaten by the Golvan to save her kin from Dreyfelg’s death-art. And Erqueth rushed to that tower as valiantly as any soldier you ever saw, and climbed over her comrades to an empty window, and despite her wretched wound clambered over the ledge and into that miserable tower.
But as she looked for the staircase to Poofuff she felt a terrible ripping pain from a Backet pike piercing her neck, and as she fell to her knees she heard the screeching of her killer. And he did not stop screeching into her ear until she was dead, and then he wept. And it is said that he wore the skin of a slain Chutter dancer.
Now at this time the Chutter general Goak was still outside Backet’s wall, fighting the foul Backeters. And out here there were more dead Backeters than living. So Goak said to her minstrel Belvord, “It is time to enter Backet. Sound the Hertugen Horn.” And Belvord played the Chutter fanfare.
But that music was ill chosen, for as soon as Belvord played the last note they were impaled by a Backeter who had emerged from the ground. And in their pain Belvord blew a blast so bleak that the Chutters shuddered. And from the ground all around arose more Backeters, for they had dug secret tunnels beneath the wall, so that suddenly the Chutters were outnumbered, with half their army within Backet and half without. Then Goak saw many good Chutters fall, including Darrabon, who had danced at Goak’s brethiilitheis.
Until now Goak had avoided the fray, as Gardragit had requested. But now she was surrounded by enemies. So she slew thirteen Backeters herself, and one more with help from Yeswith. And when no more Backeters crawled out from the land-holes, Goak assembled a company of nearby Chutters and said, “The tunnels are now open to us. Let us feign death in their vicinity and thereby enter Backet unnoticed.”
“I will not dishonor Gardragit with so cowardly a ploy,” said Pernet, and so he fought bravely until his brutally long death under a Backet battle-axe.
But the others obeyed Goak. And they fought by the holes, and when they were struck they fell as though dead into the holes, and then they crawled into those terrible Backet tunnels. These were built by bodies which glide and twist, and so were painful for a Chutter to traverse. And of light there was none. So if any Backeters lay ahead in ambush, the Chutters could not know. But Goak was fortunate, for in her tunnel there was no enemy. And at last she emerged into the Great Fortress Backy. Her strategy had worked, though the rest of her army was left without a general and lacking many of its best soldiers, which later proved a doleful loss.
Now Goak discovered to her vexation that none of her company were at hand. “Perhaps their tunnels led elsewhere,” she thought. Yet she waited for several minutes for any friends to appear. When none did, she determined to search the fortress herself; but first she scrawled a message upon the walls that only Chutters would understand and thereby glean where she had gone. Then she sneaked through various corridors and chambers, up many flights of stairs, keeping herself hidden whenever she heard Backeters about, which as it turned out was seldom, for most of them were fighting the battle outside. Therefore she was able to examine a great deal of the fortress without incident, until at length she came to a stairwell ripe with the stench of gitchies, and she knew then that she had reached Gitchy Damm Tower.
By the time Goak reached the top of the tower, the sounds of battle had died away. She thought this was because she was too high to hear them, but in fact sounds travel many miles in Backet, particularly when they are nasty sounds; the real reason for the silence was that the battle had ended in Backet’s favor: all hundred thousand Chutters lay dead. But she did not know this then, so she was hopeful when she came upon Poofuff’s room at the top of the tower, and so beautiful was his naked body that she did not notice the legions of dead Chutters many miles below, though they were plainly visible through the windows to anyone who cared to look.
“You are almost as beautiful as my beloved Gardragit,” said Poofuff. “Do you know her?”
Goak was too dazed by Poofuff’s beauty to comprehend his words, so she stared silently at him until he repeated himself three times, whereupon she collected herself and responded: “Yes, I know her.”
“Are you her friend?”
“Yes, I am her friend,” said Goak, though with downcast eyes: she could not concentrate on Poofuff’s words while she gazed upon his perfect form. But his voice was such that she could hear him smiling when he said, “Oh, those are happy words. Will you take me to her?”
At this Goak began to cry: now that she had witnessed Poofuff’s beauty, she could not bear to let anyone else possess him. Her tears distressed the boy, who asked, “What is awry? Has any harm befallen Gardragit?”
And Goak wanted to lie to Poofuff and say that great harm had befallen Gardragit, such harm that no one would ever see her again, so that perhaps Goak could have the boy for herself. But she knew that such news would devastate Poofuff, and the only agony more terrible than losing Poofuff to another was to see Poofuff suffer. So she said through her tears, “No harm has befallen Gardragit. In fact I have come to bear you away safely to her, that you may live together in beautiful Chut.”
Then Poofuff was so elated that he laughed aloud, and Goak could not help but look upon his beaming countenance, whereupon she was so hopelessly smitten that she fell to the floor laughing and crying in joy and pain. It was then that Poofuff knelt beside her and laid his holy hands upon her, and his touch was such that Goak squeaked in her tormented ecstasy. Then Poofuff took her in his arms and embraced her, and never before had any living being experienced such pure elation as Goak did then, for her every sense was alight with bliss, and no thoughts entered her mind but those of the purest happiness, and she fell utterly limp in his grasp. So Poofuff carried the incapacitated general from the tower and out of Backet, and all Backeters who witnessed them thought that she was dead, and this pleased them, so they did not stop Poofuff. And Goak did not notice the thousands of her fallen comrades even as Poofuff stepped upon their bodies and soaked his fine feet in their blood.
Now as it happened Poofuff did not know where Chut was, and Goak in her present state was unable to advise him. So they wandered the Desolation for many months and had numerous adventures with which you are no doubt already familiar.
Chut’s Destruction
Eventually the Backeters realized that Poofuff would not return, and they suspected that his flight had been a ploy of the Chutters. When their ruler Fovgorchor realized this she howled so mightily that the very sky shook in sickly shades of green and brown, and she expressed her discontent with such flatulence that even the specters of the Desolation turned away in disgust. Then Fovgorchor ordained that Chut be destroyed as retribution for kidnapping her most prized possession. The Backeters, though greatly diminished in numbers after their recent battle, eagerly assembled for war against their enemies; and even without their full forces it was a vile sight to behold such a large assemblage of ugly things, though of course there were none to behold the sight, so none may say precisely how vile it was; yet it may be assumed that the stench at least was awful.
Meanwhile in Chut, Gardragit was distressed by her army’s failure to return with Poofuff, or indeed to return at all; and she lamented that she had failed horribly in her quest. “I have sent those hundred thousand lovely natha to their deaths for naught,” she wailed. But she had little time to ponder her failings. For she was shortly disturbed by a natha servant who said, “Gardragit, an army of Backeters marches from the Trabbwood toward our goodly domain, and they demand the return of Poofuff.”
“But I have him not,” said Gardragit.
“So we told them,” said the natha, “but they call us liars, and claim that if we do not return the boy then they will lay waste to our domain.”
“They will not!” said Gardragit. “I will talk to them, and then they will realize that we do not have Poofuff.” So Gardragit went out and saw the horrid army encircling Chut, and unto them she said, “Poofuff is not here, though I wish he were, for I sent my army to fetch him and not one among them has returned.”
“We know that, for we killed them all,” said the Backeters. “Except the general, who escaped with Poofuff. We know you are hiding them.”
“You may search every corner of my domain if nothing else will satisfy you, but it would be a terrible waste of your time.”
“Nevertheless we shall, for a terrible waste would please us greatly,” said the Backeters, and so the Backeters were allowed into Chut. And that was a lamentable day for the Chutters.
Now you may wonder why Gardragit let the Backeters into Chut. Some say she still believed in her supreme power as a Borgokog and therefore feared no treachery. Others say she feared them terribly, and hoped to assuage their hatred by complying with their demands. Which is true I cannot say. But in the event the Backeters committed swift and horrible violence against Chut.
First they destroyed the Uven bridge, and all the other bridges, so all who fled must traverse the river.
Next they burned the Tookke Forest, where the Churbn used to play. And all the furry vingums came scurrying out in terror, and some drowned in the river, and others were trampled by Backeters.
Then they ate all the exquisite foods, but burned the recipes, so no such delights will ever be tasted again.
Then they seized the Simpaddul Playhouse, and forced the actors to perform an improvised play about their domain’s destruction, even as their kin died outside. And the Backeters wailed to witness such a delightful performance. And then they burned down the theatre.
Now you may wonder how the Backeters accomplished all this, when Gardragit had left a hundred thousand natha in Chut to guard against this very event. Well, the Backeters killed them all.
Finally they captured Gardragit’s castle, where the Borgokog herself hid. And looking on the destruction from her tower she thought, “Through my folly I have brought this doom upon us all. It is a fitting end for a Borgokog such as myself.” And she did not show herself to the Chutters remaining in her castle, so they died calling her name in vain. And when the Backeters reached her tower, Gardragit did not barricade the door. Nevertheless they broke it down, and rushed upon the Borgokog with no regard for her standing.
“Slay me, for I am fairly defeated,” she said.
And all the Backeters retched and said, “We will not slay you.” And they surrounded her, and ripped out their own throats, and fell in a gruesome pile upon the Borgokog. And then there was nothing she could do to escape their death-stench. So she remained eight days breathing that foul air, and during this time she decided that nothing, not even Poofuff’s beauty, was worth this torment.
After those eight days the Backeters’ bodies were sufficiently fluid for Gardragit’s escape, and she emerged from that putrid pile in sticky silence. And she walked through the ruins of her castle, through the scorched gardens, to the river; and all along the way she passed by dead Chutters, and even in the river their bodies floated. And she saw in that river so monstrous a thing that she vomited, and so did the monster, for it was her reflection. Never before had someone suffered so great a decline as Gardragit, except perhaps the Shrogtigs. And Gardragit left Chut forever to wander the Desolation.
She eventually came upon Poofuff and Goak. By now Goak had regained her senses and traveled beside Poofuff, rather than in his strong arms, though she still averted her eyes from his glory, for Goak could not bear to witness the beauty that could not be hers. But when they saw Gardragit they did not recognize her, so hideously deformed was the Borgokog. In fact they mistook her for a stray Backeter, and Goak might have killed her had Poofuff not stayed her hand.
For her part, Gardragit did not recognize them either, for her appalling travails had ruined her mind, and she no longer possessed any appreciation for beauty. And she did not even glance twice at the perfect Poofuff as she passed him by.
Goak’s Revenge
When Goak and Poofuff reached Chut and found it destroyed, Goak cried out in grief: “Oh, Gardragit! I will never make that meal of chiitiis for you. I will never cook again, for there is no one left to cook for. I wish I had died in Backet so I would never have seen this sight.”
“Is Gardragit hurt?” asked Poofuff.
“Yes, so hurt that neither of us shall ever see her again,” wailed Goak, and now Poofuff wept too, and for many years the two of them cried together in the ruins of Chut.
Then Goak said, “The Backeters have taken Gardragit and Chut from us. Now we will take our revenge.” And Poofuff, who had heretofore never harbored a hateful thought, agreed.
So they traveled back through the Desolation to Backet, where they were greeted by the vile guard, who said, “You are not welcome in Backet! Go away or you will die.” But this time Goak did not honor him with a response, and instead strangled him with his own hair, and Poofuff looked away but did not intervene.
Then they entered Backet, and Goak smiled to find it largely desolate, for most of the Backeters had been killed in the invasion of Chut. “This revenge will be a quick affair,” she thought, and indeed it was. Fueled by a terrible vengeance, Goak scoured all of Backet and slew every living thing there, except the Shrogtig, for it was feasting on a rotting Backeter corpse. Then she entered the Great Fortress Backy, and there too all the ugly natha fell to her. And Goak did not fight honorably, as she had in Tuubuut; nor strategically, as she had during the siege; but with a reckless fury that would have sickened any Chutter, had any Chutters been alive to witness it.
But as she approached the stairwell to Gitchy Damm Tower she was overwhelmed by a stench far fouler than any common Backet smell, and she saw a film of brown fluid slowly seeping toward her feet. And oozing down the stairs came a hulking beast of bubbling flesh, with great branching limbs, and many terrible digits thereupon, and also two mouths. Goak buckled and nearly swooned, for she was in the presence of Fovgorchor, a fearsome Borgokog and ruler of Backet.
“My natha you have slain,” breathed Forvgorchor, “and my Poofuff you have stolen.” And her breath was so pungent that Goak could not reply for coughing. Still Fovgorchor continued: “There is no pleasure left to me in this world except to revenge myself upon you.”
Then Fovgorchor grabbed Goak with one of her twisted limbs, and twirled the general about in such a manner that there arose a wailing like murderous wind, and the popping of their joints was horrible to hear. Goak tried to protest, but she spun so fast that the words were driven back into her throat, and she choked on them. At this Fovgorchor sputtered in what was either rage or mirth. Then the Borgokog twirled Goak faster still, and the force of the circumnavigations stretched Goak’s once-beautiful body until she was a lamentably tall and loathsomely lanky thing. And nobody can know how great her pain was then. She feared that Fovgorchor would continue spinning her until she was as long as the domain and as thin as a grain of sand, and indeed Fovgorchor would have, but she was interrupted.
For there came upon the Borgokog a valiant battle cry whose beauty pierced her ear-holes. Then Fovgorchor released Goak, sending the natha hurtling through the stone wall in a terrible tumult. And Fovgorchor paid no further heed to Goak, for before the Borgokog stood another goodly Chutter who said, “You shall hurt my friend no more, wretched beast.”
“That is the last time you disrespect a Borgokog and ruler of a domain!” screamed Fovgorchor. “Look upon your protracted friend and tremble, for soon you shall envy the lesser fate she endures.”
“I will not,” said the natha, whereupon she lent her voice to a song so beautiful you would have wept to hear it, and all other music thereafter would have sounded dismal by comparison. For this was the famous singer Twimbat, who had sung nothing since the Dappers massacre. And even in her pain Goak was soothed by Twimbat’s voice.
But of course the Borgokog Fovgorchor had no love for such sounds, and she wailed and stomped and belched until the very fortress they occupied crumbled around them, leaving nothing standing save Gitchy Damm Tower, reinforced as it was by the bodies of natha; and the fortress’s fall was heard in every domain which then existed. The sound of its collapse became known as the Large Noise; although in later years, when the details of the matter were disseminated, the less reverent natha called it the Big Backy Boom.
When the dust cleared Fovgorchor was gone. Twimbat searched the rubble for many hours before she found Goak, whose horrifically lengthened frame had been pinned beneath a broken Backet brick. So she freed Goak from the debris, and when the general looked upon Twimbat’s face she was astounded, for she was a soldier of that very company which had infiltrated Backet through underground tunnels many years ago.
“My friend!” Goak cried out with joy. “How is it that I find you here, so deep within the domain of our enemies?”
“I read your writings on the walls of the fortress and followed their instructions to the top of Gitchy Damm Tower,” said Twimbat. “I waited there for you ever since. It was lovely to see you return after these long years– lovely and terrible to see you slay those foul Backeters! But please tell, who was that beautiful boy with you, and where has he gone?”
“That was Poofuff, the object of our mission,” said Goak.
“I would like to meet him, since there is precious little beauty left in the world,” said Twimbat. And presently Poofuff came to them. “His beauty is worth all that has befallen us,” Twimbat said through tears, and then died from the grievous injuries she had sustained in the fall.
Goak wept over her fallen friend for a long while, whereupon Poofuff comforted her as only he could. And when they embraced Goak looked into his perfect eyes for the first time since their meeting, and she was astonished that her woes were immediately relieved.
“I can no longer hide my overwhelming love for you,” she proclaimed.
“And I have likewise developed a certain fondness for you in the course of our adventures,” said Poofuff. “Furthermore, due to Gardragit’s death I am no longer betrothed to anyone, so I see no reason not to attach myself to someone so noble as you.”
“But I have been stretched beyond beauty,” said Goak, as indeed she had.
“Nevertheless I shall love you with a love that only the unique can know,” said Poofuff. And so he did for a very long time.
Gibbering Taylor 
Leave a comment