Mythic Scribes Forums - Portfolios - Fluffypoodel http://mythicscribes.com/forums/portfolios/fluffypoodel/ Fantasy Writing Forums - Discuss all aspects of fantasy writing, including magic systems and world building. An active and friendly writers forum. en Wed, 22 May 2013 19:32:06 GMT vBulletin 30 http://vbimg.mythicscribes.com/forums/images/mythic/misc/rss.jpg Mythic Scribes Forums - Portfolios - Fluffypoodel http://mythicscribes.com/forums/portfolios/fluffypoodel/ Heart of the Forest Part 2 http://mythicscribes.com/forums/portfolios/fluffypoodel/126-heart-forest-part-2.html Fri, 08 Jun 2012 16:49:37 GMT Behind him Stallywag kicked the ground with an iron shod hoof, nudging his head into Dusty. The knight reached over, giving the stallion a rub on the... Behind him Stallywag kicked the ground with an iron shod hoof, nudging his head into Dusty. The knight reached over, giving the stallion a rub on the nose. He whispered, “It’s okay Stally, this is how most adventures I have heard about happen.” The horse nudged him again, harder this time. Dusty’s voice became stern. “Listen here Stallywag. I am the knight, you are the mount. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you now?” Tindra’s voice dripped menace.

“I am a knight my lady. I have to know.” He spoke with a conviction that transcended his youth. Dusty noticed that they had stopped. Crix had brought them before two of the larger cells that Dusty had seen, one for the humans, the other for Stallywag. The pixie waved his hand before the cages, roots twisting away to admit their new occupants .

“Sure are a lot of cells,” Tindra said as Crix moved them into the roots.

He turned on them, a smirk crossing his diminutive features. “Lots of cells for lots of stupid humans.” He sealed them in their cages before heading back towards the pavilion. The trees bowed after him, their branches clawing the ground.

He was just out of sight when Tindra rounded of Dusty. “What were you thinking? You call yourself a knight, how bout a dim witted fool.”

“What-“

“I’m not done yet. If you had kept your mouth shut when we were before the king they would have let us go.”

Dusty felt something swelling up inside him, something that had never happened before. He tried to warn her but she wouldn’t hear it.

“Now we are stuck in the middle of the forest, surrounded by pixies who would like nothing better than to see us rot here until we are old and useless.”

He thought he saw steam coming out of her ears but was distracted by that strange feeling getting closer to the surface. Dusty didn’t know how much longer he could keep it in.

“And it’s all your fault. You know I wonder who is supposed to be protecting who on this quest of yours.”

Dusty wished she would stop. The feeling was almost at its peak, surging through him. This is it, he thought.

“Well, what do you have to say-“

The burst of laughter came so sudden, so violently that Tindra fell backwards. Dusty was already on his back, rolling back and forth, clutching his sides to keep them from splitting open. Tindra sat up, an incredible look masking the shock on her face. Stallywag whinnied while he tossed his mane.

Dusty laughed for a long time. Finally the fit subsided. Dusty sat up, whipping tears from his eyes. He turned to Tindra.

“Well?” she said.

“Well what?”

She looked to the side muttering something unintelligible under her breath before responding. “What was that all about?”

“Oh- you seemed to be so upset about being thrown into prison that you forgot that this is how adventures go.”

“I forgot- what are you talking about?”

“In every adventure I’ve ever seen the heroes always get captured by someone. Then they escape and continue with their quest.” A concerned look passed over his features. “We are the heroes aren’t we?”

“ARRRRGG, Of course we are Dusty. And what do you know about adventures, this is the first one you’ve ever been on.”

“That doesn’t matter right now.”

“Really? And What does matter right now?”

“Escaping this prison.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Try to stay focused Tindra.”

She stood there with her mouth agape, eyes unfocused as if she didn’t understand what Dusty had said.

The knight leaned closer so that he could get a better look at her. “Are you okay?”

She blinked, shaking her hard before answering. “Fine, Dusty, just fine.”
He sighed in relief. “Good because I’m going to need your help if we are going to escape.”

“You’re planning to escape?” Said a male voice behind Dusty.

The young knight turned to see Stallywag standing in his cell, head resting in the branches. “Stally… you can talk?”

“No, you idiot, behind the horse.”

Dusty moved to the edge of his cell to get a better look behind the horse; sure enough, in the next cell over stood a man. His cloths hung off of his haggard frame but the spark was still in his eyes; that was always a good thing. Dusty said the first thing that came to his mind.

“Who put you in there?”

The man went so far as to raise an eyebrow. He didn’t respond to Dusty’s question. “We can talk about that later, you said you had a plan to escape?”

Tindra cleared her throat. “Why should we help you out?”

He exchanged a look with Dusty. “I can’t see a reason not to. We do appear to have a common cause.”

“That being?”

“We all seem to be trapped here, besides, I know a way out of the forest.”
Tindra seemed to consider it as Dusty spoke softly. “Come on Tindra we could use his help to escape.”

She nodded slowly. “All right, but only because we don’t know the way out.”

“Of course.” The man said. He looked expectantly at Dusty, “now what was this plan of yours?”

Dusty looked between the two before speaking to Tindra. “Well, I was thinking that since these cells are only made from wood that we could use fire to burn a way out.”

She looked to Dusty with hope in her eyes. “You know Dusty, that’s not a bad plan. Maybe we could-“

“And what would you be using to make this fire?” Came the voice.

The two looked at each other for a moment, weighing whether or not they could trust the stranger. To Dusty, the answer was obvious. “We were going to use magic of course, oooff-“

The young magician shoved him in the ribs, trying to cover what the knight had said. It was too late.

“Magic? Where did you two come from.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Came Tindra’s indignant reply. She had stolen the words out of Dusty’s mouth, but since the wind had already been knocked out of him, he really didn’t mind too much.

“I mean, how is it that you get locked up by pixies and not know anything about them?” When he saw the looks on their faces he knew that he would have to explain. “Pixies are highly sought after for their magical powers, one of those being the ability to sense when other magic is being used. In this forest, their home, the effects are magnified; even the smallest amount would alert them.”

By this time Dusty had finally regained his breath. “I guess we need a new plan then.”

The man waved his hands, patting the air in front of him. “No need, it just so happens that I have my own plan. As you have probably guessed I have been here for a little while and I’ve managed to move some of the vines and branches. My only problem is that I need a knife to cut through some of the smaller vines.” He looked across hopefully. “You wouldn’t happen to have one would you?”

Dusty’s spare knife had already cleared its boot sheath before the man had finished his sentence. He was halfway into his toss when Tindra caught his arm.

“What are you doing?”

She ignored him, instead addressing the ragged man. “How do we know that you will help us escape?”

The man took off his floppy hat with a flourish, placing it over his heart as he said, “I give you the word of Pondorous Pendalin, master inventor.” With that he swooped into a bow. He looked up with an expecting look on his face.

The two companions only stared in silence.

Pondorous straightened with a puzzled look on his face. “What, you haven’t heard of me?”

Tindra shook her head. Dusty gave an enthusiastic “Nope”.

The inventors jaw dropped just a fraction of an inch. He quickly shut it. “No matter, no matter, you’ve heard of me now and that’s what counts. Now if you please.” He held his hand out for the knife.

Tindra and Dusty again exchanged looks. “He did give us his word.”

She sighed, “like we have any other choice.”

Dusty put a comforting arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze of reassurance before tossing the knife.

Pondorous deftly caught the knife with a smile. He raised it in salute. “Many thanks, my friends.” He bent out of sight.

The two friends waited for what seemed like hours while the inventor cut through the vines of his cage. Finally there was a great rustling crash. A second later Pondorous rolled out into view. He stood quickly, turning in a full circle to make sure that none of the pixies were around. Satisfied he walked over to his benefactors cell. He started pulling at the branches as he talked.

“These cages are really quite ingenious. All there magic prevents those inside from getting out.” He paused for a moment as he gave a tremendous pull, nearly sending him sprawling to the ground. “The magic doesn’t stop those who want to get in from getting in.” He laughed, “after all who would want to break into prison?” He was working on a particularly stubborn branch when they heard the voices.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“I did, so we are going to check on prisoners.”

The second voice belonged to Crix.

Pondorous had stopped his work to stare through the trees. He licked his lips in silent thought. Tindra didn’t like it.

“Hurry up, inventor. They’re almost here.” She whispered at him.

He turned back, a quick jerk of his head. Dusty met his eyes. He didn’t recognize the look on his face. Tindra did.

“Don’t even think about it Pondorous. You gave us your word.”

He smiled as he got up. “I only said that I would help you escape.” He looked back through the forest. “I’m sorry my friends but I have important business to take care of. Sorry I couldn’t do more.” With a mighty heave he threw the knife into the air over Stallywag’s cage it hit a cluster of vines where the trunk of the tree met the roots with a thunk. Upon hearing the noise the two pixies stopped their conversation. They could be seen entering the grove of prison trees. Crix pointed to the escapee.

“Sound the alarm.” He screamed. Taking two running strides he launched himself into the air, bearing down his on his prey.

Pondorous was already running into the woods, making plenty of racket as he did so. Dusty and Tindra watched as the pixies poured into the forest after him. It seemed like everyone had taken up the chase. But the time the progression was out of sight, Tindra was fuming.

“I don’t believe this. First he promises on his name ‘Oh I’m the great inventor Pondorous Pendalin’ and then when he gets out he runs off at the first sign of trouble. He didn’t even have the decency to return your knife.”

As soon as the words left her mouth the knife fell out of the tree to land by Stallywag’s feet. With a cracking the whole cage fell outward, leaving the tree standing on only a handful of roots, leaving the stallion as free as he had ever been. More cracking ensued as the cages under each and every tree opened in the same manner, including their own. The two stood in stunned silence. It was Dusty who broke it.

“Do you think he meant to do that?”

Tindra didn’t waste any time, shoving Dusty forward the two ran at Stallywag, the knight pausing only long enough the retrieve his second best knife, before jumping into the saddle, Tindra right behind him. He wheeled the horse around, through the root strewn ground, searching for a way out of the forest. He looked over his shoulder. “I don’t know the way.”

She pounded his shoulder with her fist, the sound of cracking trees still around them. Desperation was in her voice. “Pick a way. It doesn’t matter, they could be back any minute.”

Stallywag reared, nearly sending his riders to the ground. He fought Dusty’s control, jerking his head back and forth. “I can’t control him.” He said in a panic.

“I think he’s trying to tell us something.”

“Maybe he knows a way out.” The horse reared again, this time giving a mighty whinny.

Dusty shook his head. Stally’s sense of direction has never been very good, he’s the reason why we were lost in the forest to begin with.”

“It doesn’t matter. Any direction is good enough so long as it’s away from this place.”

The knight looked at his horses muscled neck. “Okay Stally,” he said as he gave the stallions mane a scratch. “You lead the way.” With that he kicked his heels into Stallywag’s flanks, sending him into a gallop. The two never looked back as the left the heart of the forest. ]]> Fluffypoodel http://mythicscribes.com/forums/portfolios/fluffypoodel/126-heart-forest-part-2.html Heart of the Forest Part 1 http://mythicscribes.com/forums/portfolios/fluffypoodel/125-heart-forest-part-1.html Fri, 08 Jun 2012 16:48:58 GMT This started as a short story continuation of another short story which was then followed by another with several more planned out. So I think that...
This started as a short story continuation of another short story which was then followed by another with several more planned out. So I think that this now falls under the novel chapter category. As one final note I really enjoy writing these characters even if they are silly. I think every writer should have something that he/she can write without having to worry about it being considered "great" or not. I think that it takes some of the stress out of writing and puts more of the fun back in.

Heart of the Forest

Dusty Welch and Tindra Embers walked down the same overgrown forest path they had met on. Dusty was once again leading Stallywag, the horse as always making such an easy task as difficult as ever. He paid his trusty mount no more attention than he did the failing light. Tindra was telling him about magic. He smiled as she talked. The young knight had never really had a friend before and his mind was overflowing with the possibilities. Finally he had someone to share his adventures with. Oh, and what adventures they would be! After they had escaped from the dark forest they could travel from town to town, fighting monsters and saving princesses from dragons or-

“Owww! What was that for?” Dusty said, rubbing his shoulder vigorously.

“You weren’t paying attention to what I was saying. You were daydreaming again.” Tindra said in a hurt voice.

That’s ridiculous, Dusty thought, of course I was paying attention. She was telling me about magic and good sorcerers and bad witches, when I started to think about how much fun this adventure was going to be… his eyes went wide as he realized what he had done. He hunched his shoulders as a sheepish look crossed his face. “I’m sorry Tindra. It’s just that I’m so excited. I’m finally going to be on an adventure worthy of a great knight like myself.”

She shook her head with a resigned sigh, managing only partially to keep the smile hidden from her face. “Well I guess I could forgive you just this once if you promise-“

“You said something about an evil witch, I remember that part.” Dusty interrupted in his excitement. “That sounds like the start of a grand adventure.”

Her expression slid into a scowl at her companions words. The look she gave him was so fierce it made Dusty miss a step. He would have stumbled to the ground had he not been holding Stallywag’s reins. “If you had been listening you would know that the witch turned all the good sorcerers and sorceresses into evil witches and warlocks.” She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When she spoke her voice was quiet. “They did terrible things to the people. So terrible that the few of us that survived the witch’s wrath were chased out of the towns and cities. They hunted us into the night, never giving us a moments rest. Those that they caught… I’d rather not talk about.”

All the while she had been talking Dusty’s eyes had gleamed with the thrill of adventure. “All the more reason for us to travel to find this witch and get her to undo her spell.” His voice took on a deeper, more solemn tone. “As a knight I am obligated to defend all the good people of this world.” His face turned skeptical for a moment. “I thought I already told you that when we first met. Hey, I think it was you who wasn’t paying attention!”

Tindra rolled her eyes. “Yes I was paying attention, and no, that is not reason enough to go chasing after this witch. She would turn us into… into rats or frogs or something before we even get close. We would be lucky to just hop away from that encounter.”

“But you’re a sorceress! You said it yourself. You could turn her into a frog or… or… something before she can cast a spell on us.”

The young sorceress sadly shook her head. “My training was never completed. The sorcerer who was training me was captured and thrown into prison.” Her head lowered a fraction in despair. Dusty thought he saw a tear roll off her face “we were the last two. Now there’s only me.”

Dusty’s mouth leaped ahead of him. “Then we’ll rescue him! He’ll complete your training and then we can stop this evil witch.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“Sure it is. Haven’t you read how these sorts of adventures go?”

“Dusty this isn’t one of your adventures in a book. We cannot just gallop off into the sunset with nothing but promises of glory to guard our backs.”

Dusty laughed heartily as he jumped into the Stallywag’s saddle. “ The glory is in front of us, Tindra, and we won’t have the sun on our faces in this forest.”

Tindra jumped away, startled by his outburst. “What are you doing?”

The knight danced his fine steed in circles around her, the horses trotting hoofs sending up sprays of dirt. “I’m going to rescue your instructor!” he said, pulling his sword from its scabbard, flourishing it over his head. “Now I’m off to-“ he stopped suddenly, his fervor draining out of his body. He turned back to Tindra. “Where did you say this town was?”

The young sorceress laughed. “How did you ever manage to find your way into the forest?”

Dusty looked confused, pointing down the path he began, “I just followed the trail until-“

Tindra cut him off as she leapt into the saddle behind him. she pointed past his head down the path. “He was taken in the town of Honniluk at the edge of the forest. That way.”

Dusty turned his head so he could see her from the corner of his eye. She could see the wide smile that had split his face. “Hold on my lady! Next stop, Honniluk.” He dug his heels into Stallywag’s flanks. The stallion shot forward, galloping down the path.

Before they had made it a hundred feet they were launched into the air, a net of vines erupting from the ground to send the two spinning above the forest path. Dusty yelled out, trying to draw his sword only to find that his arms were caught by the constricting tendrils. Tindra, calmer, at least on the outside, tried to form the fire magic she had used earlier, but the magic was pushed out of her mind by the growing fear of being captured.

Losing hope that they would not be able to extract themselves from the trap, Dusty let his head droop down until he was staring at the slowly spinning ground. “Some adventure this is turning out to be...” He panted quietly.

It was in that moment despair when the voice from his past floated into his thoughts. My son, on your journey’s you will face many perils. Some will require great and noble acts, worthy of valorous song. In others, however, you will have to rely on the knights greatest tool: his mind. Remember, my son, that the blade of the sword is the knights last resort when all else has failed him but sometimes the mind is sharper still. Remember, my son…”

Dusty’s mind cleared as he heard those words. He heard Tindra calling his name.
“Dusty, DUSTY, are you listening?” Her almost panicked voice pleaded.

The knight managed to bring his arm up, gripping her hand; hers gripped back twice as hard. “No need to fear, Tindra. We will just have to use our heads to get out of this mess.”

“Dusty-“

The young knight shushed her with a squeeze of his hand. “Now I can’t reach my sword so we can’t cut ourselves free”

“Dusty.”

“There must be another way, I know there is.”

“DUSTY.”

“Oh, yes, I remember. Tindra, can you make some fire to burn through these vines?” Dusty said, catching her eyes as he craned his neck.
Now that she had his attention she grasped his hand even harder, if that was possible, pulling him closer so that he could see along the path. “Dusty, we’re not alone.”

He smiled at her as he gazed up the trail. “Of course we’re not alone, Stallywag is here with us. Now, about that fire-“ Dusty’s sentence cut off when he realized Tindra was indeed not talking about Stallywag.

A little farther up the road stood a small, delicate looking creature. Its golden skin gleamed in the scant rays of sunshine that wound their way down the thick forest canopy. Interesting enough was the fact that this creature seemed to be wearing cloths made out of forest green leaves. Slightly more interesting were the wings that arced gracefully over his head. Dusty gave a start that clicked his mouth shut when the creature hopped into the air. Its wings came to life, propelling the creature towards the entangled threesome.

Wings thrumming, it stopped just before Dusty’s face. It was no bigger than his forearm. Its inquisitive eyes peered intently at the knight. Dusty, not knowing what else to do, put on his bravest smile. “Hello there. My name is Dusty Welch, a knight on a very important adventure and-“

He was cut off when the creature threw out a hand to stop him. It spoke in a high, melodious voice the words that Dusty would dislike hearing for the rest of his life. “What’s a knight?”

Before Dusty could respond Tindra burst out laughing, her mirth making the vine sway. Dusty turned indignantly towards her to glare but addressed the strange creature politely. “Well, a knight is someone who goes on adventures to-“
He was cut off again when the creature fluidly spun in mid-air, flying upside-down at Tindra. “Are you a knight to?”

Her laughter faded when the creature turned its attention to her. The smile stayed on her face. “No, I’m a sorceress. My name is Tindra Embers. We were traveling through this forest on our way to Honniluk when we fell into this trap.”
The creature peered into her eyes for a few long moments, as if weighing what she said held any truth.

Dusty, who was upset about being capture and interrupted twice, wasn’t about to let that silence continue. “Listen here little fairy, we are on a very important quest to-“

For a third time he was interrupted by the creature whipping around to face him. “My name is Crix and I am not a fairy. “ He set his hands on his hips. “I am a forest pixie, you are my prisoners.” He snapped his fingers sending them all to the ground, tied together with a vine. Crix held them like a dog on a leash.

“Follow me.”

Crix lead his captives off the path, taking them into the dense forest undergrowth. They walked for what seemed like hours, at least that’s what it seemed like in Dusty’s opinion. Constantly required to push branches out of his face, never sure of his footing on the root strewn ground. His mood sank as his irritation mounted. The only thing that kept him from snapping the vines and running off to freedom was the threat of not being able to escape Crix’s magic. That, and the fact that he would be lost silly this deep in the forest. He could only brood, thinking about the message he had received for that voice that he couldn’t quite remember. It didn’t help Dusty’s contemplations that Tindra was chatting away happily with that wretched little creature.

“How many pixies are there in the forest, Crix?”

For his part Crix seemed to be enjoying the talk. “Not many now,” the pixie conceded, his voice losing some of its melody. He quickly regained it as he continued. “Not many, but still enough to capture silly knights and sorceress’s.”
Tindra gave a delightful laugh, “you most certainly did. I doubt anyone could have seen it coming.”

Crix nodded his approval. “Pixies like traps. Traps fool big, dumb humans. Humans steal pixies; use them for dark magic’s.”

“Dark magic’s? that’s terrible, who would do such a thing?”

Crix stopped for a moment, his tiny fists clenched in fury. “We do not know the name, only she has strong magic; stronger than pixies. We try fighting, we lose.” The tension eased out of him as his shoulders dropped . “We were once so many. Now, so few.” He slumped into silence for the rest of their journey.
After what must have been days, Dusty noticed that the forest had changed. The once lush underbrush had been replaced by ancient trees, tall, foreboding trunks with beep roots spreading across and into the ground. The canopy loomed thick overhead, blotting out all but the most determined sunlight. They walked deeper into this new part of the forest, no, this old part of the forest. The oldest part of the entire forest. The air caught in the lungs, thick with old knowledge, pervaded by that tingle that could only be one thing.

Magic.

Before his eyes Dusty could see the glow of tiny shapes floating through the branches. They flitted through the boughs in all colors of the rainbow and even some that were not. They twirled in elegance, an emotional symphony of physical release so majestic the eye had trouble following. They danced for no better reason than to dance, bringing happiness in a time when so many wept with sorrow.

Dusty took this in, irritation draining out of his body. Here was a place where a man could sit thinking for hours, no, days, maybe even years being completely at peace, safe knowing that nothing could interrupt your private tranquility.

In short, Dusty thought, a perfect place for an adventure. His whirling thoughts grinded to a halt as Crix brought them before the largest tree that Dusty had ever seen. It stretched towards the heavens, massive branches, most as large as some of the elder oak trees they had seen, reached upwards as if holding the entire green, leafy sky above them. Its ancient bark darkened to a deep brown almost black which looked to be as hard as the steel in Dusty’s sword. Huge leaves drooped some of the smaller braches low, their foliage sweeping clear the rich earth of the bracken that gives it such vitality.

So caught up in his observations of the tree that it took a third nudge from Tindra to recapture his attention. Dusty looked over at her to ask what was so important. What he saw was a wide eyed stare; a mixture of wondrous excitement that would make any child seem dull by comparison. Smiling in understanding of what she must be feeling, Dusty turned to look at what marvels had so enthralled his companion.

Sprawled beneath the tree was an arched pavilion, easily high enough to accommodate the height of the prisoners. It seemed to have grown out of the tree, a living extension of antiquity. It gleamed with the collective colors of the pixies, their dance forgotten as they noticed the outsiders approaching. Reds, yellows, pinks, purples, oranges, silvers and more all flashed away the shadows , creating a living painting so beautiful that Dusty did not want to blink his eyes. Amidst the flocking masses stood an enormous throne resolute and immovable within the chaos. It was to the high seat that Crix lead them.

Dusty did not know why, for Crix spoke not a word, but the crowd parted at the sight of him. Both Dusty and Tindra gazed in wonder at these strange, mysterious creatures that seemed to flow together with the coordination of a bee hive. Such was the concentration of Dusty on those deceptively powerful creatures that he didn’t see Tindra stop in front of him. Their resulting collision carried both of them to the forest floor. Because he was still attached to his two captives, Crix was also carried to the ground where they landed together in a heap, to the pixie’s immense displeasure. Rising with half formed insults and apologies, the three were surprised to see that they now stood before the throne.

The being that occupied the throne was little different from the others. He packed the same power into his compact frame, only he seemed to show it more, as if he stood larger than the rest for it, much in the same way that Crix seemed to overcast his fellow pixies now that they all stood or hovered together. His golden aura was deeper than Crix’s, as if he were more aged. Golden two was the crown that slumbered upon his head. Made of elegant leaves interspersed with succulent berries, it was a crown made for beauty not authority. Beneath that masterwork solemn eyes regarded the outsiders; they betrayed no emotion. When he spoke the very forest seemed to bend forward to hear his quiet words.
“Many lives have passed into this world and left since last humans entered domain of pixies.” He leaned forward, hands resting on his knees. “We will not suffer petty strife’s of your race. If you have brought them with you, punishment will be swift. Now, tell me who you are.”

Before they could speak Crix overruled them. “Trespassers, father; outsiders.”

Dusty looked at Crix with unbelieving eyes. “We’re not trespassers.”

“Be quiet, you were where you did not belong, looking, spies of the witch.”

“That’s a lie.” Dusty shouted, silencing the growing murmurs.

The king sat impassive. “My son is above such things.” There was a hint of danger in his voice that Dusty failed to catch.

“You are wrong-“

Tindra’s elbow slammed Into the knights stomach; he exhaled sharply with a cough. Tindra spoke over his fit. “Our apologies great king of the forest for any intrusion or offense we might have made. We bring no problems from the outside world into this most noble wood. We only wished to pass through, nothing more when we happened upon Crix.”

The king’s gaze shifted from her to his son, who was now kneeling down beside his two captives. “Is this true my son?”

Crix raised his head to meet the kings focus. “All travelers are trespassers, father. Traps caught them, I bring them here. They are prisoners.”

The king nodded in thought. “Prisoners they are and will be treated like until we can find the truth of intentions.” A sliver of pain cracked through his eyes when he spoke to the captives. “No longer do we trust outsiders as we once did. Witch has stolen it with the lives of many of my people. Take them to cages while I think on what is to be done.”

Crix grunted before bowing. He took the leash in his hand giving it a tug to get his prisoners moving. He led them out of the pavilion, into a darker part of the forest. Here the trees rose above the ground, suspended on spiderlike roots. Crix walked them through the tangle of trees, looking for cells big enough to admit his prisoners.

Dusty stared wide eyed at their new surroundings. This adventure was turning out even better than he dreamed. He was about to open his mouth to ask Tindra what she thought of their situation when she turned, giving him a scathing look. His half formed smile stumbled into a frown as she gave a not so quiet harrumph before turning her head. Dusty’s brow knitted in thought. Tindra sometimes didn’t say everything that was on her mind. From his limited experience Dusty knew that after a look like that, harsh words would follow; he would have to bring that up with her when they were alone. ]]> Fluffypoodel http://mythicscribes.com/forums/portfolios/fluffypoodel/125-heart-forest-part-1.html Outsider http://mythicscribes.com/forums/portfolios/fluffypoodel/124-outsider.html Thu, 07 Jun 2012 17:42:02 GMT this was a creative project I did for my Brit Lit class in college a few years ago. I haven't thought about it in a while and I stumbled upon it while I was organizing my documents. I'd really like to do something with it but I'm not sure what. Any thoughts, ideas and criticism are appreciated.


A man came to our village the other day. He speaks our language and knows some of our customs but he is not allowed in. He slinks along the outskirts of the forest during the day. Mother says we have to keep the gates closed except for business because of him, and so that the children won’t see him. I’m not a child any ore so I snuck up on one of the houses to watch him. I’m watching him now. He is walking back and forth just inside the eaves of the forest. His back is bent as he hunches over knuckles almost scraping the ground. He has something in his right hand, something that he keeps bringing up to his mouth to tear at. It’s too far away for me to make out but I think that’s one of the reasons why everyone is so afraid.

I probably shouldn’t be here on top of the roof, I would get in trouble if I was caught, but everyone is in the mead hall discussing what should be done about the strange man, so I don’t think I’ll get caught. I decide to get down anyway, that man isn’t doing anything interesting today. I turn to give the creature one last look and get a shock. He has stopped pacing and now stood erect, the snack in his hand momentarily forgotten; he is looking at me. He yells something that I couldn’t understand and charges from the forest towards our wooden palisade. My hands are shaking so bad that I lose my hold on the thatching of the roof, and with an unintelligible yell of my own I plummet towards the ground.

I awoke in my bed. I had been dreaming, but the ethereal images soon dissipated into the pain of reality. My whole left side was of fire and I couldn’t move. Hands were holding me down, many hands. What were they doing? The pain in my side and leg seemed to be pulsing, stabbing through my body and into my head. I could hear urgent voices around me. I couldn’t move! What was happening? I wanted to shout out, but my voice couldn’t find my throat. I squirmed against the grasp of my captors. I couldn’t get free. Again I tried to shout, but all that came out was a strangled moan. The hands held me down harder. I felt a shaper pain then, sharper than any of the others. There was a snapping, clacking sound, more pain and then a release of pressure around my leg and side. The hands removed themselves from my body. Without their restraint I tried to rise. My head being above my chest proved too much for me however and I passed down into the world of darkness again.

I awoke a second time, I don’t know how much time had passed but I was hungry. My pain had gone down to a bearable level. I tried to get out of my bed and was promptly stopped by a hand gently pushing me back into my blankets. It was my mother. She gave me a cup of hot broth to drink. The liquid passed through my lips to spread its reviving warmth through my body. She asked me how I was feeling; I asked her about the stranger. My mother was strangely silent for some time. When she spoke she did so softly. She told me that the village had decided that the stranger had brought a curse down upon us. On top of my accident there had been incidences where livestock had gone missing and some of the crops outside of the palisade had withered and died during the night. She said that some of our warriors had gone out to remove the exile. She said that he had retreated into the forest upon seeing them and the warriors had gone in after it. It was night now and there had been no activity from the forest.

Her story finished she again asked me how I was feeling. Sore and confined was what I told her, careful not to let her know how intrigued I was about the stranger, which was difficult when she asked how it was that I got hurt. I managed to dance around the subject for the most part, telling her how I had climbed atop one of the houses as a matter of personal honor. That seemed to satisfy her and she dropped the subject. I asked her when I could leave my bed. She smiled and said that I needed to stay off my leg and rest if I wanted to heal. I tried to argue and stand up to show her that I was fine, but the stiff pain forced me into compliance. I finished the rest of the broth and handed her the cup.

The next few days passed as slowly as any in my life. Every morning I would eat porridge or bread, even some dried fruit every now and then. I would spend the rest of the day in quiet solitude looking out of my window at the blue sky and the clouds that lived there. The clouds were funny. Every one the same, yet every one different, I wondered if there could be a stranger cloud. A asked every chance I got about the stranger however. Indirectly of course, asking if any of the warriors had returned from the forest. My father was one of them so the request wasn’t at all an odd one. Most people were silent, a cloud of worry over their faces. My mother only tells me that the forest is large and the man was more than half beast and at home in the forest. She told me not to worry, that my father would return. Still, the shadow was across her face too.

Finally they allow me to walk again, but only for a little while. The stiffness of my leg recedes to be replaced by a dull ache that follows the rhythm of my lopsided walk. The gates remain closed though, and I felt as confined as I had been in my mead hall. The only incident of excitement was the large cloud of smoke that was coming from the forest and growing larger. It caused quite a stir at first but was soon enough put into the back of the minds of those who were not related to the warriors that had gone out. I walked the perimeter of the palisade, running my fingers along the rough-hewn posts as I did so. I heard someone cry out as I was nearing the gate, surprised to see that it had swung open and a haggard man was stumbling through. It was one of the warriors that had gone into the forest with my father. He fell to his knees, panting in a bold effort to regain his breath. When he did so the words spilled from his mouth like one of the old Roman aqueducts.

They had followed the stranger deep into the words, confident and in good spirits that they were driving it off. One night they had made camp by a dense copse of trees where the tracks they had been following were lost. Because nothing had happened in the first few days they had relaxed their guard, and had fallen asleep. The “Creature” as he called it, had awoken them during the night, killing two of them while they slept. He was a wild thing, spinning and twisting away from their weapons as it struck at them. When the Creature finally retreated all but two were dead; this warrior and my father. The man said that my father had stayed behind to delay the Creature. He said that my father had built a fire to try and smoke the Creature out or, if he was lucky, burn it back to the fires that it had spawned from. That was the last he had seen of my father.

The village was in a great uproar by this time; seven of our number dead at the hands of this Creature. Fear spread through the village like the fire that was devouring the forest. Where was the Creature now? Was it coming back to the village? Men, woman and children rushed around the village to get the man food and to make him more comfortable. Men armed themselves and stood protectively by the gate, angry eyes trained on the forest. The smoke was a lot closer now. I heard one of the elders say that it was the fires of hell following the Creature. I think I was the only one who heard her.

Night came with the red-orange glow of the forest reflected in the smoke overcast sky. Torches were placed around the outside of the wall, mirroring the flames cutting through the forest. That was a dull roar by now, periodically broken by the falling of a tree. We were gathered in the mead hall, listening to the Drictin talk to the warriors that came in to report on the progress of the fire. We waited for any news of the Creature and news of my father. Neither came with the reports.

We were settling down to go to sleep when something crashed into the roof of mead hall. The smell of burning pitch and thatch filled the hall right before the smoke. There was a scramble to reach the double doors before the roof collapsed on us. I made it but others didn’t. The ruins blazed with the same intensity as the forest beyond the palisade. There were shouts from every direction as water was brought from the well to quench the fires. The smoke was billowing out over the ground like a heavy fog, obscuring the actions of everyone around. The warriors from outside the walls came running in to help put out the fire.

I was running around looking for my mother. I screamed her name but wasn’t heard over the cacophony around me. I was running to the well when I felt the gripping fingers close around my waste. Before I knew it I was lifted off the ground, my eyes inches away from the running heels of a man who was not a man. I yelled out but no one heard me. We passed through the gate and to my horror I saw the bodies of two more of my village’s warriors. The violence of their deaths silenced me. We dove into the forest, through the burning trees and ash that was driven down like rain. I inhaled it once and couldn’t stop coughing. The Creature seemed to have no trouble breathing.

We made it past the burning trees in what seemed like seconds, the Creatures strides taking us farther into the desolation. He never seemed to slow down as the seconds turned into minutes, turned into hours. Eventually we reached a part of the forest that that was untouched by the fire. We found a path through the trees that led into the hills and a hole in the ground. Not a cave, but an earthen hole. He dropped me to the ground, pulling me inside. It was a hell of darkness as the dirt and rocks tore into my skin.

Finally we stopped. I was thrown to the side as the Creature lit a fire that filled the air with a putrid smoke. I looked around the lair, fear paralyzing me as I looked at the bones littering the floor. Skulls lined the wall, human skulls and some were fresh. I heard a crunching sound from to the side. I looked to find the creature biting into the arm of my father, the sight of which sent me vomiting to the floor. The Creature noticed me then, dropped the haunch of my father and coming towards me. The smile on his face was the twisted look he gave me that day. I screamed as his fingers bit into my skin. ]]> Fluffypoodel http://mythicscribes.com/forums/portfolios/fluffypoodel/124-outsider.html Heads http://mythicscribes.com/forums/portfolios/fluffypoodel/123-heads.html Thu, 07 Jun 2012 17:36:36 GMT It was a pleasant day. Blue sky prevailed with just wisp a of cotton cloud on the horizon where the buildings struggled to support the massive azure... It was a pleasant day. Blue sky prevailed with just wisp a of cotton cloud on the horizon where the buildings struggled to support the massive azure dome. Closer to the earth was a café patio. Sun baked bricks greedily sucked at the beating solar light, while the cobblestone streets shunned it, hiding huddled in the towering shadows. Beside the patio stood the café itself, all smiles and courtesy walled off from the outside by plate glass.

Robert Ash sat in one of the patio chairs. The cast iron grew out of the ground, its dark metal now perverted with the green rot of age. The table was the same, dark boughs branching off to support the silvered surface top. Robert stared at it. Anything he could do to keep his eyes off the man opposite him. With vain determination he continued listening.

“It is your choice to make,” the man said as he leaned forward, the wool of his coat scraping the table. “I only offer this once.”

“I know it’s my choice. I came didn’t I?”

The man leaned back, crossing his arms. His face betrayed a hint of a smile. He waited.

Six years ago Robert’s business failed, sending him into bankruptcy. He had exhausted the rest of his bank accounts in one fruitless attempt after another to gain back his financial well being. With his time spent trying to buy his way back into success he had distanced himself from his wife and children. Now he hardly saw them. Now he had the opportunity to change everything.

The sun had sunk behind the café, casting the patio in shadow. Robert watched the dark line creep along the table and then up the man’s body. He seemed to grow darker and not for the shroud being raised across his face. His eyes grew cold, features sheathed in murky light. He seemed to grow bigger, hulking, over-sizing his chair and stretching across the table towards him. Robert edged back involuntarily.

“What did you say your name was?”

“My name doesn’t matter, only my offer.” The man said. His voice was low causing Robert to lean forward again.

“I don’t know…”

“What have you to lose? Your life is failing you and you it. All I give you is a chance to fix what has been wronged”

“And the price?”

“The price?” He laughed, a low rumble echoing out from the cavern of his mouth. “The price is the chance you take, nothing more”

“And you can guarantee your offer?”

“All I assure you of is the chance”

Robert put his head in his hands, running them over his scalp, through his thinning hair, thinking. The chances he had taken in his life had led him to ruin. All the pledges and reassurances had been empty promises, paths that could only lead farther down the abyss, only he had been too blind with desperation to see it. Perhaps he was blinded now.

“What do I have to do?” Robert asked

The man sat up straighter, reaching into his coat. The motion was smooth, almost serpentine. His hand stayed there while spoke. “You need only take the risk. Say the words and I will take it out of your hands. It will be fate that decides then”

“Who are you?”

“Who I am isn’t important, only the service I offer.”

Robert accepted it. He had to if he wanted to change. “I only have one question”

The man gestured with his free hand.

“If you offer life on one hand, what’s in the other?”

The man smiled, withdrawing his hand. He extended his arm down the table, fist clenched. “Everything must be balanced in this world, Robert. Every chance has two sides.” He opened his hand, revealing a large silver coin.

Robert looked blankly at the coin, blind to everything around him. He didn’t see the people in the café, didn’t notice the gloom creeping into the streets, and he didn’t notice the man sitting across from him. All he saw was the coin in the man’s hand; the coin with his face on it.

Robert looked up. “So a flip of the coin decides whether or not I get my life back”

“It’s not the coin but fate that will decide this. I am only the device.” He flipped the coin in his hand. The face on the on the other side was his as well, only it lacked the lifelike realism of the other face. It was dull, lifeless. “All you have to do is put your faith in it.”

Robert sat there for a long while, not moving, thinking. A clean slate, new beginning, whatever was offered he wanted it. He took a deep breath. Any way he looked at it his life was at an end as he knew it. He squeezed his eyes shut in decision. “I’m ready” he said in barely a whisper.

“Open your eyes.” The man said, “You have a right to view your own fate.”

Robert did in time to see the coin lift from the casual flick of thumb and forefinger, such an insignificant motion to decide a man’s life. The coin arced high over their heads, spinning so fast that the two faces blended together. They were screaming. Higher, higher it went until it reached its zenith, stray bands of sunlight glinting from its shinning surface. It hung there for a moment suspended in time as if fate had forestalled her judgment. It came down then, fast, making up lost time. It plummeted down into the man’s waiting hand. The resounding slap echoed across the buildings. Robert closed his eyes. He heard distantly the man’s voice.

“You cannot escape your fate, Robert.” ]]> Fluffypoodel http://mythicscribes.com/forums/portfolios/fluffypoodel/123-heads.html