Saturday, June 24, 2017

Whither Goes the Wind--Part 3

Lulea flew down to a copse of trees, where the sound was coming from, and tried to remember what exactly the sound was.  It put her in mind of singing, something she and the others had done for the Maker in the Not-Long-Ago when the new creation was unfurled.  Lulea chuckled to herself.  That had been most pleasant.

This sound... this sound was similar, but not so pleasant.  It occurred to her that she knew of this sound, that the Maker had taught her and the other Sylphs of it.  What was it...?  Glancing into the hollow of a tree, she saw the source of the noise a small Salamander that had huddled there.  As she stared at the small creature, Lulea remembered what the noise was, a thing the Maker had called crying.  Lulea was quite mystified at this, for crying generally meant one was unhappy, and the Sylph could not think of any reason for anything to be unhappy on this glorious early day wrought by the Maker in all Her skill...

Thursday, June 22, 2017

Whither Goes the Wind--Part 2

It was the begining of creation, and all was fresh and new.  The sun rose over the horizon for the first time, as the morning's first dew, as the air smelled with a cleanliness that it would never have again, something very few things in it noticed.

One of those very few, the Sylph Lulea was enjoying it as she flew over the lands.  She had been tasked by her creator with doing a survey of all this new wonder, a job she was greatly enjoying.  Indeed, as she flapped her wings, she noted how much more enjoyable these places that had up and down were compared to those that did not.  At that was when she heard a strange sound.

Now, Lulea was old and wise by the standards of Sylphs, but these were rather easy standards to reach, and so she was quickly baffled by what she heard.  "I will go investigate," she decided at last.  "For that will earn me the praise of the Great Maker."  And so she dove down to the source, determined to find out what it was.

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Whither Goes the Wind--Part 1

The child huddled beneath its sheets as the wind blew in the trees outside the window.  She tried to tune out the sound but it continued to howl, even when she put her hands over her ears.  A whimper escaped her lips.  As she heard the door creak open, she realized it was a louder whimper than she had thought.

"Child," came the voice of her grandmother.  "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," she whispered back to the older woman.  "I'm fine."  She forced what she hoped was a smile to her face.

"You do not look fine," said her grandmother, sitting on the bed.  The child opened her eyes, to see the older woman looking at her, filled with worry.

"It's the wind, grandmother," said the child at last.  "It frightens me.  It's so loud."

"Is that all?" said the older woman.  She let her head back and laughed.  "Why, child, you mustn't fear the wind.  At least, not in this house which is safe and secure.  Why, if you knew the truth you'd pity the wind, for it is such a sad and a lonely thing..."

The child blinked and stared.  This sounded... intriguing.  "What do you mean, grandmother?"

"Oh, it is a sad tale, of long ago days, when the world was young," said the older woman. "I would love to tell it to you." She looked around and began to rise.  "Still it is late, and you are doubtless tired, so..."

"I... I think I could listen to it, grandmother," said the child.

"Very well," said the grandmother, sitting down once more.  "Where to begin.... Oh, yes.  'Once upon a time'..."

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Pages from the Cthonique Library: Silver Boot of Kylan

Ancient ornamental boot held to be the work of the Goblin smith, Kylan Cloudtrimmer, who made it as a gift for his beloved, Emyrs Brighthammer.  Alas, Emrys died before its completion.  Kylan left it on his tomb and then, by most accounts, wandered off to die.  The boot was taken from the tomb by looters and through a lengthy chain of owners, came to the collection.

Thursday, June 15, 2017

Pages from the Cthonique Library: Glass Bell of Abbe Oglian

Relic formerly in the possession of the Abbey of Pesien, gained by the Dark Lord Shaddad during his sacking of the same.  A fine glass bell used by the Abbe Oglian to announce his arrivals during his travels.  Finely wrought, it has numerous miracles credited to it, though Shaddad never had much faith in them, and was considering selling it during the Retreat.  Thankfully, he did not get a chance to.

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Pages from the Cthonique Library: Malevolent Hat of Vral Vrases

Allegedly cursed hat of notorious rogue witch Vral Vrases, who engaged in a great feud with the early Dark Lords of the Castle Terribel.  Considered by some a completely unremarkable hat, with a story invented by a later Cthonique simply to amuse themselves by hoaxing the collection.

Saturday, June 10, 2017

Pages from the Cthonique Library: Preserved Head of Nechtan

Head of Lord of the Crossing Nechtan Mongrane, slain in battle against Lleu Cthonique, heir of the Dark Lord Marhat, who was slain later in battle with Nechtan's son.  Both sides took grisly trophies from each other.  Negotiations to return Nechtan's head in return for Lleu's hands are ongoing.