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Reptilian ones, they run
From beneath the feet of Man,
But in days of early sun
There tread upon the sands
Of a nameless desert land,
Shunned by one and all,
A terrible Ancient One--
Dythalla was he called.
Several man-lengths tall
And saurian was he,
With serpentine tail and all
And powerful clawed toes, three.
And a betentacled mane
Fell to his mid-back;
Worshipped in Altuan fane,
Lightless, shunned and black.
Like others of Altuas,
He was worshipped in its prime;
Xirdneth and others arise
From nameless dreams at times.
But in the last days of Altuas
T'was heard an awesome roar,
And as the waves closed about his head--
Dythalla was no more.
(But the Old Ones are eternal...
And 'tis said he'll rise once more...)
"Dythalla: Reprinted from Etchings & Odysseys (#7), October 1985 by kind permission of the author.
Copyright © 1997 Peter A. Worthy
"Dythalla" © 1987-1997 by James Ambuehl
