Mistlockan Fairy Tales

[Random_White_Guy]

[tface=fellSC][tface=fraktur]C[/tface]autionary and [tface=fraktur]M[/tface]istlockan [tface=fraktur]F[/tface]airy [tface=fraktur]T[/tface]ale

As penned by [tface=fraktur]D[/tface]ulev [tface=fraktur]E[/tface]linel[/tface]

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[Random_White_Guy]

[tface=FellSC][tface=fraktur]P[/tface]reface:

Listen now as I tell the tales, be you young child or eldest figure. For with my own two eyes I have the forest walked and with the survivors and victims spoken. I bring to you tales dark and varied, of the legend of the wood. Thick it is with beast and fairy. The Aberdenn warn of traffic with the miraculous by hanged up sign, The Caermyn wander only the most well known paths. Foragers know well to avoid the forest deep, where monsters and worse do so lurk.

Be you child or eldest figure think upon the tales within. For they are not of the pleasant jaunts through the forest vast, but of the Fairy that have long haunted Mistlocke's outskirts. Games they play most cruel and foul for simple amusement and emotional turmoil. Perhaps though in each tale there sits a nugget of wisdom? Perhaps from the flaws of the fallen you may learn?

As I did, in speaking to the survivors to bring of you these tales. For the forest is thick and vast and deep and errant step will lead you astray. And it is here the Feyfolk find their revelry.[/tface][/color]

[Random_White_Guy]

[tface=FellSC][tface=fraktur]C[/tface]hapter 1: [tface=fraktur]S[/tface]atyre

Sat did I with a bard once beautiful, her hair so long and flowing vast. Her voice so musical and wondrous, a wonder she did not procure the Golden Harp. For Twinkle Toes himself would have envy, and Abigal Nightal would have been so jealous. She retells for me her tales of woe, and the encounter she did have with the Fairy Folk

"Through the woods, Mr. Elinel did I always walk each day. Inspiration always seemed to find me the greatest amongst the forest. Sometimes the springs, sometimes the scars, though on rare occasion I would venture to the Canopy. There were those mercenaries who at time would come with me, as we romped through the thick underbrush. Sing for them would I a song or three and they would endeavor to protect me with their steel and bow. We would never have an endeavor in mind as we would go but wander and wait for inspiration to bring upon us.

As we passed a thick portion of the Forgotten forest I was struck by an awesome silence as I noticed a troubling fact: The noise of our feet were the only sounds to be heard in any reasonable distance. Animals had ceased to rustle, insects had ceased to talk to one another through chirp and creek, and the soft sound of my voice the only disruption.

With trepidation did we forward march, Samuel a sellsword was the first to notice. Warning he did give that there may be something awaiting us or closing in. Ever did the cautious man have the sensations of someone, something watching him. Bornar the dwarf was quick to dismiss saying that there were ever those wishing to steal his dwarven carved gems. A rather rude man he was but he was such lovely company, and took great steps to flatter me for my beauty.

The third member of our company was a mute elven figure, who dared not his voice raise amongst a whisper. They say he may have been a slave who in his misbehavior his tongue was cut, but in his almond eyes I could easily see the joy my music brought to him. A longbow did he have on his back though rarely did he draw it, for when he did it was to kill and such a grim fate I would wish upon no one.

As we four continued to walk deeper into the forest our way began to part. The forest grew thick and the mist grew cloudly.

"Close to me now, girl, for the forest grows foul" growled Samuel with a torch in one hand. A blade in the other for any who would seek an opportunity to prey upon us, man or beast. But it was Bornar the Dwarf who clung fast to his hip, his gems he did clutch with his free hand. His other upon a fierce hammer as he crunched loudly through the land.

With flitted foot and eager pace did the Mute Elf keep our rear safe. We had all taken to call him Sash, a less than clever name gifted by Bornar when the Elf stated he had been born without a name. And so deeper did our company tread, before Sash raised a hand to his covered head.

In an subdued whisper did he croak- "Tracks of a goat in the underbrush. Yet instead of four feet there are two. I fear it is a Satyr that silences this forest so."

As if listening all along an ancient presence we soon did feel. Trees with carved faces invading our vision as the world began to spin. Thick and raucous music filled our ears in a blast of surprising wind:

"HELLO AND WELCOME MY DEAREST FRIENDS!"

Before us stood a stumpy figure with cloven hoves no bigger than a halfling. Bornar gasped and clutched his purse, waving his hammer in dis pair. - "Friends we be? You seem a foe! By moradin's beard you near halted my heart".

"Why do you wander through this wood?
Do you perhaps seek some freshly grown acorns?
Delicious they are and long have I hunted.
Nymph and Pixie I have chased and upon the back of a deer I did ride.
Before this delicious nut I did discover!

With a lecherous and hedonistic rub of his belly did the stumpy satyr's eyes dance, as his stubby brown horns protruded from his blonde mane. Samuel I hid quick behind, as Bornar stared down the satyr in the eye. Sash was no where to be found, I prayed silently to the gods that he was with us watching, an arrow ready he was to fly.

"Away with you trickster we shall have no game, this Forest we walk without ill intention." did gruff Samuel share. "The Miss sought only inspiration for a new composition, and hired we three to embark on her mission"

My eyes drifted to the gruff and fully armored man. My brow grew askew as I watched his features. Did....Did he just rhyme? Long I have known the soured mercenary and never did I hear from him a trace of levity.

"Aye, Stumpy Goatman, though fresh nuts would be quite the treat we've naught to part with for one of cloven feet" growled Bornar, his dwarven brogue highlighted once more by the errant and askewed rhyme.

Did they not hear themselves speak? All the while my eyes searching the edge of the glenn for our elven friend, but nothing did I espy.

Ohoho, come now though friends surely you ache?
Long in the woods have you wandered.
A simple acorn I would offer, if you could part with a handful of your coffer

A bargain? Yes I had heard the Fey loved such things but as I watched their figures I began to quietly quake.

'-WE- shall not of any fell bargain partake, for it is you Satyr worm we do forsake! Listen well and hear me fierce, else it shall be your cloven rear we shall pierce!" shrieked Samuel, his blade raising high. Unknowingly once more the rhyme flowing from his lips. My frown only deeped as I watched on in horror.

And you Master Dwarf?
Surely does your hammer grow heavy.
Sit for a spell and join me in Acorn feast?
I assure you I am far from a beast

Two steps forward did Bronar take, before Samuel leaped upon his back with a shriek- "FOOLISH DWARF! NO! The Games of the Satyr are not to be played, who knows what fell price for his treasures be paid-

...And as if the light breaking through the canopy he realized his rhyme as it slipped from his lips. The Dwarf continued to try and crawl forward as Bornar creeped beneath his tugging pull, Samuel's voice now filling wtih terror and dread.

"Foul Satyr! Listen not Bornar he plays with out head! Continue on this path and you shall soon fall dead!"

Immediately he gasped and clutched his mouth with a hand, his sword falling down to the land. His voice began to tremble and his voice came out meek, it was clear the brazen warrior was afraid to speak. With a bleating laugh did the Satyr titter and laugh, more unsuspecting adventurers walking his path.

Nonsense Bornar I bring you the truth!
A deal we shall make, and much you can take!
I speak no lies, In my web I catch no flies!
I am an honor Satyr, honorable forsooth!
Deal with me and you can have eternal youth.
Or lecherous desires foul and uncouth
...Or as many diamonds as your mouth has tooth?

...At this I let out a lowly gasp, for such an offer Bornar was sure to grasp. Loved the dwarf his treasured gems, trapped and ensnared by it's troublesome whims-

"Oh gods" I thought, "I am now doing it too. Not one rhyme but four, five, and six times two".

An audible shriek I did let out, realizing now that the fate before us, trapped we would be in this forsaken forest.

As I shrieked all heads did turn, and the Satyr let out a cheerful bellow

Come now dear no need to fear,
A satyr's debt do I ever pay,
Come amongst my daisies lay,
We shall sing through out the day.
Inspiration it is you seek?
One whose voice is oh so meek?

I could not move, I could not answer, paralyzed with fear was I at this cloven dancer. His horns did glisten like a devil, as his furry pelvis he would bevel. Unable to control himself now did Samuel shriek in followed suit, descending to grunts and mutters for fear of his own rhyming tongue betraying him. Bornar though I fear was not so lucky...

"Aye, My furry lad, I find you so plucky and capricious, A deal I shall make if you can make me rich!"

Good then dear dwarf then you need only come with me,
Into the thick mists and you shall so easily see.
The forest does part with my hands,
And I shall take you to ancient lands

Samuel in a fervor tried to halt the march, only to be halted by a series of roots. Howls and bestial shrieks he let out! Before falling prone and growling and gnawing vines like a monster tearing through bone.

Bornar or Sash never again did I see, Samuel in his eyes I could see bade me to flee. My mind was racing as my feet began pacing, fearful I became of some ancient presence chasing!

Flee I did, far I ran, into the mist I marched without a plan. Days stretched to nights and by the time I awoke...

Upon chest a tattoo...

I am a bard who abandoned a friend,
I am a bard who no voice I could lend,
I am a woman who watched on timidly so,
Hoping and begging for conflict away to go.
For I am the Mistlockan who forgot her place.
And ended up with tears  upon her face.
For I refused to fight,
And my punishment an embarassing flight.
My lesson learned and Elf I will not trust
For upon my mind wisdom he has thrust
And I end with a tattoo upon my bust.

For it was Sash who suggested we travel so deep...
And if I ever see another elf his skull I shall bludgeon in.
For now I am a tournament fighter at the Mist End.

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