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  • ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      This is a thread for referencing terms, creatures and other funny words that may be useful to find easily…
      Don’t hesitate to post your suggestions below, that I will integrate later.

      Races

      • Dragons
      • Gripshawks [ ˈgrip-ˌshȯk ]: feline-like race.
      • Humans
      • Uglings

      Creatures

      • capricorn [ ˈka-pri-ˌkȯrn ]: goat-like fish-tailed aquatic creature
      • fincheon [ ˈfin-chən ]: grey ugly birds, with the particularity of being extremely discreet (almost invisible) with a great sense of orientation, and loyalty to their owner. They are mostly used as message deliverers
      • glukenitch [ ˈglu̇-ˌken-nitch ] (Gripshawk dialect: [ ˈglu̇k-ˌnitch ]) : Slimy wet creatures fearing light, sharing one mind, found in Malvina’s cave. Useful recyclers of garbage, their droppings emit a glowing bluish halo, until they dry up completely and coalesce into a glassy substance.
      • golfindel [ ˈgōl-ˌfin-dəl ] : golden coloured cetacean, found in Golfindely.
      • grake [ ˈgrāk ]: big birds of Golfindely, with colours like mandarin ducks and shaped as geese.
      • indogo [ ˈin-dō-ˌgō ]: blue type of flamingo living in the Eastern Lagunas of Lan’ork.
      • langoat [ ˈlan-ˌgōt ]: daft three-eyed goat-like creature living in the Dragon Head Peninsula, the wool of which has many magical uses (enchanted cloaks, tapestries etc.). Their milk is known to have remarkable healing powers too.
      • marmoth [ ˈmär-məth ]: big toothed hibernating woolliphants
      • saurhse [ ˈsȯr-əs ] : bidepal saurian used as a mount in Asgurdy.
      • schpurniatz [ ˈshpər-ˌniats ] : bat-like creatures, found in dark caves.
      • sparfly [ ˈspär-ˌflī ] : birds usually seen in couples, loving to nest in silgreen trees, and their songs is one of the Treasure of the Worlds.
      • weaszchilla [ ˈwēz-ˌchi-lə ]: little mouse-like ferret

      Magical Artefacts

      • buntifluën [ ˈbənti-ˌflün ] (or [ ˈbau̇nti-ˌflün ]): A magical artefact having in most of its variations the form of a knot-like object, which allows the wearer or bearer to communicate directly with the energy of sentient beings.
      • glubolín [ ˈglü-bȯ-ˌlin ]: A device made from unhatched dragon eggs of the same brood, that allows people to communicate through it.
      • sabulmantium [ ˈsā-bəl-ˌman(t)-shəm ] (or [ ˈsā-bu̇l-ˌman(t)-shəm ]): A device made from rare unhatched dragon egg with crystalline transparent shells, which is filled with sands. May be used as a divination device or as a compass, in any case as an intent focusing device.

      Plants

      • buckberry [ ˈbək-ˌbe-rē ]: fruit of wild buckberries shrubs, in the form of big electric blue-vermilion reddish berries, known to have thwarted all attempts to be grown in gardens.
      • grogonut [ ˈgrō-ˌgə-nət ] tree: a tree indigenous of the warm coasts of Golfindely, known to provide grogonuts, which have a wide range of uses (food, drinks, cups etc.) depending on the maturation level of the nut.
      • silgreen [ ˈsil-ˈgrēn ] tree: a big decorative shrub, blooming sparkling flowers of emerald and silver once every moon. Leafs can have medicinal use too.

      More here later…

      #277
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        You are very fat, said Chiara to Roselyn

        And she laughed. Yes, I am

        My Nana is fat, but not as fat as you.

        Roselyn seemed to consider this for a moment, and then laughed again. Would you like to go on an adventure with me?

        Chiara was not quite sure. An adventure sounded quite fun, however she had some beliefs you were not supposed to go off with strangers, however nice they may seem. But Roselyn did seem familiar to her.

        Where would we go?

        We would fly to Fairy Land, replied Roselyn

        This offer was way too tempting for Chiara to decline

        Oh yes!

        Take my hand then, and close your eyes tightly.

        Next thing they were flying through the air. Chiara loved the feeling of flying, she often went flying in her dreams. She giggled with delight as Roselyn, no longer seeming to be impeded by her fat body, effortlessly did flips and twirls in the air.

        The colour of the world around them changed, the blue sky became all the shades of the rainbow. Down below, Chiara could see an island in the middle of the sea, which sparkled like broken glass in a kaleidoscope of shifting colours.

        Roselyn guided them gently down to the island.

        Chiara gazed around, speechless with wonder and delight and then nearly jumped out of her skin as a loud voice behind her shouted “BOUH!”

        ******

        NB: What is Fairy Land like? Well, if you like gigantic flowers, bright colours, and the possibility of unexpected magical happenings, you would probably quite enjoy it. There is loads of spontaneous singing and dancing which can be a little unnerving at first for the uninitiated. You have to be prepared to go with the flow in Fairy Land because the creatures that live there don’t have the same rules as those that come from the “real world” (whatever that is), and many of them tend to be quite mischievous.

        #1308

        In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          September 24 th

          Quintin remembered a snapshot of the notes that Dory had taken during her first trip to the Madagascan caves, a year ago.

          Relevant extracts:

          At one moment, I saw some hooded figure in the sideways tunnels… He vanished on the left, couldn’t follow him…
          […] HE KNEW HIS WAY INSIDE !
          When he vanished, I had the vision of something, […] like the layout of a labyrinth, of cave tunnels — that are all underground and the many entrances are all over the world… PORTALS
          focus opening/doors ; time/space…
          The central cavernous part is some kind of key center, where anyone can meet…

          This has inspired Quintin to write some notes too.
          He has the vision of these portals organized as clusters, like a tree, with branches and leaves… I will send him a more detailed image, but that may take him some time to digest!

          September 26 th

          The latest additions to the story have inspired Quintin. He had some inkling of how “essence” (or what is somewhat referred as “oversoul” ) and all the “focus” of essence (or lifetimes) interplay, and are not as separate as they sometimes seem to be.

          Here would be what we will say to him, if he wants to listen:

          « Now, terminology can become tricky as, for much time, you have been accustomed to be considering of your experience as the projection of that of an “essence”, somewhat separate from you, the lowly focus.
          Of course, you pretend the contrary, and become quite nifty in brandishing sentences like “I am essence, and I create all of my reality”, which you are and do actually, but that you do not always believe and trust.
          These terms of “essence” and “focus” were given to you as means for you to better understand the interplay of consciousness. In the beginning of the acquaintance with these new terminologies, you have felt them remotely blurry and unrelated to previous concepts, which was the intention. But now, you once again objectify your understanding in something too rigid at times, and that little story is giving you a hint of what your real power is.
          And you begin to really experience it, and really pay attention.

          « As was expressed many times, “essence” is no thing. It is an action.
          The “essence” is each of you, that very portion of you that you feel when you slide your attention into the comment box.
          In that, your purpose, you see, is only to experience, nothing more, nothing less.
          And then time, as you know it, becomes irrelevant, you see. Your natural time is expressed through you and your explorations.
          Notice how playfully, as essence (essence playing focus or focus playing essence), you let your natural time unfold, and at times find some strange weather pattern in your awareness that needs clarification. As essence, you playfully find the most perfect habits [shapes and clothings] to wrap around you, and continue your story.
          Just as your dreams at night overlap and blend into each other.
          Just as Rafaela created new focuses [Sam and Becky] to continue to play and make the story expand for all of the other focuses, Dory included.

          « That “I” of you is ever present, and is reflected perfectly in others’ perceptions, as you are drawing them to you purposefully. Do not brush aside their adjuncts, for they are also you, having moved your pawns forward, so to speak, through their moves.

          « Thus understand that the story is a continuous stream reflecting the essence that is you, and your travel through the various guises you borrow.
          In that manner, it does not matter how much sense it makes in linear terms. Because, in a way, it can’t make sense in these linear terms.

          « Let us explain this in other terms.
          When you found difficulties in understanding the “scheme” so to speak, the figure that is drawn by the participants, it is because you apply the linear understanding of what such a scheme should be.
          In that, you only perceive the “plot” as a succession of dots without a continuity, whereas the continuity is to be found in the other stories interwoven.
          You are accustomed to stories where a single individual is enacting throughout the play, in a linear continuous fashion. The individual goes through many different actions, but is always the same in your perception.
          Here, the tricky thing is to notice the continuity throughout the various habits [clothings] taken by the essence(s). It matters not that the essence takes that guise of say, a pirate sailing on high seas, just after having been an old crafty Lord in his windy castle. The underlying aspects of his exploration has been continuous and coherent: in this case, exploring and making sense of one’s exploration. It is just that a certain appearance has been perhaps more fitting to express certain aspects or qualities of essence, but the exploration has been one, throughout the entirety of the experience.

          « We will let you ponder this, and we will continue our own story, writing about you… »

          September 28 th

          This sand symbol that Quintin has brought up seemed to have come from many directions at once. Each character has connected it, in various ways.
          Armelle (Arona) to her magic, Rafaela (Becky) to her collecting customs, etc. etc.

          Let us say that this symbol is not as innocent as it may seem. There are lots of associations with sand.
          It is solid, yet fluid. In association with water, it can be used to build, and also to erode. It can shift into many forms, one of which is your glass, and your electronic components.
          And most of all, it is, after your very oxygen, the most abundant constituent of your reality.
          It is almost limitless in your understanding.
          As is your magic.

          This magical device we made Quintin see in a visualization is an analogy of your very action of creation as essences.
          The sand which molds itself to make forms and shapes in three dimensions is in fact likened to your consciousness. Each grain of sand represents your links of consciousness that bind together to do your command.
          The shapes are moved by your essences, in which you may see that the essence is no thing at all, but is a continuous stream of action, not separate from others’.

          As Quintin said to Fiona, some individuals do differently when they create and shape their sands.
          In analogy with the coloured sands, some people like Quintin enjoy using other people’s colours in shaping his own characters, while some others prefer to keep their own colours, to create a more definite sense of individuality. But they integrate the others’ movements and shapes nonetheless, regardless of how much they perceive it to be coming from them.

          With that said, let us see how much more will appear from that sandbox…

          September 30 th

          The Wrick family tree as it is now (or “will be” drawn around the time of the twins in 2057).

          The Secret Life of Margaret Wrick , a newspaper cut from 2033.

          October 7 th

          The dragon Naasir’s dream
          A panorama illustrating the portals between the worlds created by each of the participants… But who is dreaming, really?

          And an illustration of Chiara’s encounter with the glutton “dreggun” Buckberry

          #79
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

            Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

            • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
            • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
            • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
            • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

            September 12 th, 2007

            Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
            Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

            Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

            I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

            September 13 th

            Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
            This first comment seems very promising.

            Right now, it feels easy and fun.

            Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
            The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
            The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

            But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
            That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
            But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
            We’ll be having some fun soon…

            First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
            We will appeal to his imagination.
            It seems he has heard the suggestion.

            September 14 th

            For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

            But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
            Is it raining or not in that world?
            The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

            He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
            At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
            How will it unfold?
            Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

            September 15 th

            Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

            Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

            Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

            September 16 th

            Halcyons days…
            My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
            Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

            He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

            September 18 th

            Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
            He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

            Characters drawn:

            • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
            • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

            Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
            Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

            September 21 st

            For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
            And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
            Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

            But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

            Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
            There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

            Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

            September 22 nd

            Quintin has been drawing new characters.

            Characters drawn:

            • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
            • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
            • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

            A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
            She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

            September 23 rd

            Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

            Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

            Up to now, here are the names he could find:

            • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
            • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
            • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
              Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
            • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

            When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

            #273

            On the shores of Golfindely, a young boy was playing in the carmine fields of ripe Scotch bonnets.

            Since the captain Bone had left, Tomkin Sharple was feeling a bit sad.

            The old captain always had fascinating stories to tell him, and he would indulge the endlessly curious little boy in telling him for hours all about what he had discovered in all the parts of the Worlds he had been traveling to.

            Now, all he had to do was to take care of the herd of grakes of his parents, and while they were eating the weeds of the crops, he would sat on the cliff, looking at the sea, glimmering in the sunlight.

            Grakes were funny to play with, as they were big birds, with a slender neck as geese, colourful patterns as mandarin ducks, and Tomkin always had fun jumping on the back of the alpha one, and ride it, leading the whole herd to the crops where they helped the farmers by eating all kinds of nuisances.

            But after Captain Bone’s departure, it was no longer fun.

            Tomkin was contemplating a strange thing that the captain had given him before he’d left. It was a sort of knot, shaped as a eight, and the captain had told him it was magic and meant that all was connected, but that he had to discover that magic for himself.

            Tomkin had asked the captain to tell him about this object, but all he had told him was a legend which did not reveal much about the circumstances in which the old sea dog had acquired it. Perhaps the captain had fooled him about the magic…

            Stuffing the thing again in his pocket, Tomkin let his mind wander on the sea waves, dreaming of being a cabin boy on a big boat, when he saw something on the horizon.

            At first he thought that it was a group of swimming golfindels, but golfindels were more brilliant and smaller than the shapes he was seeing, and moving less heavily too…

            #269

            Malvina had been busy opening doors for herself, and thus, for the All.

            Creating the sabulmantium with Leörmn had revealed new potentials to her. And just before putting the final touch to the device, she had felt engulfed in a huge wave and before she knew it, she was talking with someone. A great creative power, which was stemming from herself, and also from which she stemmed too.

            It had named itself Naasir.

            It had revealed to her, in the form of a dark abyss, myriads of unknown potentials waiting for her to leap in faith into them. It had gently requested that she release her hold on the caves openings, so that she could explore more, and also bring more to herself.

            Then Naasir took the form of a great dragon in that abyss, from which roots were growing and pushing their way, slowly and surely, into the rich soil towards the light of their fullness.

            She had then seen the dragon’s arched back and tail shift into a chain of spiked rocks, separating the worlds seas in two. Three of the scales on the right of the dragon’s skin were glimmering, and she could see they were looking for a passage.

            Would she allow that to happen? Yes, she wanted to. Open the doorways, and reunite what was separate, but gently, one at a time.

            Slowly, the kite-shaped rocky plates on the back of the dragon moved apart, to open a slight, safe passage for the glimmering scales. They were caught in the eddies that surged from the opening, but Malvina’s focus helped them to float and cross safely, as they wanted to.

            She then came back to herself, seated in front of the glass-shell dragon egg filled with coloured sand, awed with that power she had just felt through her. She knew it was her own power, and that the device had only allowed it to be expressed, but she had felt wary of how the sabulmantium could be used by others.

            At the same time, Leörmn who was once again the tiny weaszchilla trotting on the wooden table in front of her had laughed squeakingly. And looking at the toy in front of her, she had understood how it could only be used by those who would see beyond the thinly veiled surface. For the uncaring eye, this would only be a toy, mundane and without interest, but for the pure of heart, its help could be harnessed.

            That’s how she’d knew she did not need it any longer, and could release it.

            So, the doors had been opened, and people were feeling the new jewels sparkling behind the dark passages. And gifts from friends could now come across the veils.

            Malvina saw that during the last transmugrification, Leörmn had created an entrance near her laboratory, and it was as if it beckoned her now.

            When she entered, she saw a guéridon table in the middle of a moistly pungent room. On the table, a polished egg was here. She recognized it at once. It had an azure blue glow to it, and fond memories came back to her.

            Back then, she was a young Sorceress in training on the Island of Mörk, in the middle of the Icy Lands, the birth and dying place of the dragons.

            This egg was one from a set of three. It was the first glubolín she’d ever made, along with her two companions. They had kept it to communicate with each other when they parted.

            Malvina, the youngest of the three, had kept the azure blue, and chose to go to the Dragon Head Peninsula.

            Oörlaith had kept the mauve, and went near the town of Kapalÿka, on the Snimeÿa River delta bordering the Marshes of Doom.

            As for Roselÿn, the eldest of the three, she had taken the amber one, and had went as far as anyone would have dared go, flying on her spiked dragon Rëgkvist, past the Great Rift.

            They had kept in touch, but contacts had been more and more sporadic as each were discovering their own new environments, and had ceased altogether, almost at the same time.

            As far as she knew, Roselÿn had been starting her own rookery in the sandy ice deserts of Åsgurdy, mostly hiding there from the superstitious people of that land. And Oörlaith, whom she was closest to, had been devising another funny way to keep people away from her rookery. Her own dragon, the playful Andarión, was shape-shifting as a huge shrimp to pretend that the surroundings were haunted.

            Recalling all these moment, Malvina laughed at how silly they all were, and felt a long to be connecting again with her friends. Would anyone of them be around their own glubolíns?

            #266

            Sanso didn’t notice that the creature called Madrake was rolling his eyes. While he explained to the rather odd but delightfully enchanting Arona the finer points of sabulmantium technology, he was thinking about what Arona had just said about her mission. Her overall mission, she’d said, was to learn all about magic.

            Sanso wondered what his own mission was and didn’t think he had one. Unless his mission was a glorious infinite wandering, threading multicoloured silken skeins of clues and riddles, people and places, weaving them in and out of time and to each other….the never ending tapestry, ever changing and splendid in it’s magnificence…..

            Arona was looking up at Sanso with barely hidden astonishment, and he blushed ever so slightly when he realized he’d been speaking out loud. Shouting actually, his deep voice booming out with joy and passion, his wild gesticulations causing Arona to flinch and take an involuntary step backwards.

            Suddenly both Arona and Sanso saw the funny side, giggles erupting into gales of laughter until tears rolled down their cheeks and they collapsed on the floor whooping and snorting and wiping their eyes, not really knowing, in the end, what they were laughing at…..

            #246

            Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

            He liked his dogs because they were solid, loyal companions, and he could count on them to take care of his herd of langoats.

            Langoats were a kind of three-eyed manic woolly and horned creatures, with a big sensing tongue, attracted to every new sound, or scent, or colour, or texture… well almost anything new that came before their eyes (when said eyes were not covered by thick layers of wool that is). And as their memory was short too, all kinds of things were always new to them.

            That was why the dogs were extremely useful in channeling their movements; not that the langoats would have hurt themselves, because they were very able to provide for themselves, and jump from the top of a cliff without suffering much injuries. But they could very well loose all notion of their physicality and pop in and out of the fabric of time and space.

            When they came back, because they always did magically come back, even after months of wandering, they would at times be reconfigured into another creature, and that would be pointless applying too much effort in trying to bring them back to their previous form, because it was said, in relation to their stubbornness that once a langoat, always a langoat

            Huÿgens had already lost some, especially during the shearing season.

            And he had found himself back once with a cumbersome hippoliphant, and a bouncy shulimeek instead of two langoats.

            Anyway, langoats wool was a very precious asset, highly sought after, as it could very easily bind with magical spells. Most of the clothes made for royalties were actually made with langoat wool, and it was also said that some enchanters had used langoat wool to make magical tapestries that would shapeshift, and reveal things to their owners.

            So losing a langoat was not small concern for Huÿgens, and he had to be careful during the shearing season to leave some mops of hair to cover the three eyes of the beasts, so as to curb their insatiable thirst for discoveries.

            But these days, Huÿgens had been very concerned about his herding dog Fjutch. Fjutch was a fluffy black dog he had found when it was still a puppy. He had trained it to become the head of his pack of dogs, when he had noticed the old rheumatic Thöm was taking the puppy under its wing —because the old faithful dog was knowing that it would depart and would reconfigure into a new form, but would not allow that to happen, not before he could have found a reliable companionship for his beloved master Huÿgens.

            The healing properties of the langoat milk seemed to had done wonders once again, and Fjutch dis-ease was probably just a false alarm, but it had reminded Huÿgens how much he appreciated his dogs, every one of them, every day he was with them.

            As for the cats… Illi, that was her name, had decided to come back to the cave, and he was showing her the way to the place where he had found her. He had asked BelleDora to pack a few things for her. He could not give Illi the beverage she was referring to as “coffee”, as that plant was not found in their region, but in compensation, he gave her a gourd of langoat milk, because she seemed like she would probably need some.

            When he left her near the hole, he had some tears in his eyes when Illi hugged Fjutch very tenderly, as if the dog was reminding her of something dear. Illi after a moment hesitation, where she was like speaking to herself and not knowing what to do, finally hugged Huÿgens too, thanking him for everything he had done.

            And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

            ***

            When Illi had finished arguing with Illi about having her hug the big man, while this was not manners of her kind, she sighed as she saw that the opening she had first thought was here (yeah, because I fell in there! she said), her senses where telling her that it was now closed…

            How quaint said Illi for herself.
            — Well, as a matter of fact, it reminds me of something, said Illi F. There was that delicious gentleman, John Lubbock who said “What we see depends mainly on what we look for” and somehow it seems perfect.
            — I don’t know any Grubbeck, grumbled Illi, a bit irritated that the hole, which was there before, wouldn’t be here, now she needed it.
            — Lubbock was such a nice person, said Illi dreamily… Perhaps I could just try to have a peek inside the cave, if you let me.
            — What?! Do again your wizzy wooey thing and I’ll strangle you! Don’t know how I would do it, but I’ll do it!
            — Oh, you are so sluggishly gloomy! That was just to help you…
            — Mmm, sorry for that, I was a bit upset, said Illi. What could you do?
            — Just focus on the inside, and carry us both inside… But actually you would have to leave your body here, and we’ll probably see other things that do not belong to this place, but heck! that should be fun, Illi F said grinning widely.

            They were interrupted by some munching sounds and ruffling heavy breath.

            — What the bejeezus is that?! hissed Illi the cat (who didn’t even know how she knew so funny sounding words as bejeezus)
            — Can’t you see? That’s obviously a dragon eating some bushes… How strange… replied Illi F airily.
            — A WHAT? I HATE DRAGONS!
            — Ahahah, relax, I was just pulling your leg.
            — That’s not funny.
            — Well he has funny colours by the way. Pinkish purple I wouldn’t dare to wear in London streets.
            — That’s REALLY NOT FUNNY!
            — Why so? You can’t see it anyway…
            — And what if he sees me? Dragons are vicious creatures.
            — He’s too busy eating these funny berries, and will probably collapse of exhaustion once he’s full.
            — A chance! A vegetarian dragon!
            — OK. Shall we try to find an entrance in the cave with my method, or do we ask the dragon? He looks well-mannered by the way.
            — Oh, by the eyeballs of the Mighty Shrimp, you tell me…
            — No, you choose.
            — No, you.
            — You…
            — Ooooh, bugger off…

            #242
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              So the lady whispered the answer to the riddle of the hand into Arona’s ear.

              Oh brilliant, thank you so much, said Arona, hugging her. Her hand felt so much better already.

              ***

              No longer fearful, Arona looked into the glass ball. The coloured sand was shifting. Shapes were forming. At first they appeared to be random and rather vague, just movements without any clear form. After a little while Arona went into a trance like state, and she could feel energy flowing through her body. She noticed that she was able to influence the movement of the sand with her thoughts.

              She stared at the sand for so long that she felt the edges of herself to be blurry. She had strange thoughts that she was a grain of sand herself and that she was being influenced to influence the sand. It was all quite surreal actually, but fun too, so did it really matter?

              #239
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                As soon as Arona said “sand” she noticed an object sitting at the base of the coatstand.

                Funny I did not see that at first.

                It was very beautiful, a glass globe, with coloured sand in it.

                Yet she found herself stepping back, hesitant, wondering if it was some sort of a trick the dragon might be playing on her.

                Someone else joined her in the tunnel, it was the older lady who had soothed her to sleep and told her to use her magic. Her energy felt very beautiful to Arona, it was gentle and yet powerful, and it also had the feeling of laughter.

                Hello Arona, how is your hand?

                Oh, my hand is fine thank you, said Arona, feeling the pain in her left hand throbbing.

                The lady smiled. And how is the magic going?

                Oh good .. I have learned it is easy and I just have to believe in it. She hesitated ….. mind you the truth is I am still wandering around in these dark tunnels….but I do feel much better about it.

                What were you thinking about when you fell and hurt your hand?

                I was thinking about magic, and then when I fell I had a terrible feeling of doubt as to whether there was such a thing.

                Your hand holds a clue for you Arona, the answer to a riddle.

                Oh could you just tell me? I have been answering riddles ever since I got here.

                #238

                Sanso was beginning to feel an urge to move. Waiting under the door in the ceiling in the cave tunnel, just watching India Louise and Illi fade in and out of view, and waiting for Dory and the parrot to return was getting boring. He was a wanderer by nature, and so he wandered off along the tunnel. He didn’t stop to wonder which tunnel to choose when he came to a junction, he just went with whatever one he happened to choose. He didn’t really mind where he ended up, that was the thing. This philosophy had always seemed to work well for him, because he ALWAYS ended up somewhere interesting; somewhere where he couldn’t imagine not being, once he was there, as if it was always the ‘right’ place to be, and at the ‘right’ time to be there.

                The cave tunnel was becoming wider and less cramped. Sanso straightened his back and quickened his pace, and started to sing.

                Hello Dolly, oh helloooo Dolly, do de dooo de do do dodedodedooooo……. chuckling to himself and wondering where on earth did THAT come from….. Oh helloooooo Dolly……

                and walked right into a coatstand, of all things, getting splodged in the face with a rather smelly wet blue cape. The coatstand teetered and Sanso grabbed it to stop it falling over. There was a note pinned onto it:

                Watch my shifting, Tell the time; Shape me wet, and Lose me dry; Colour me pink and grey and gold, and Find the secrets that I hold, What am I?

                Sanso didn’t hesitate for a single moment. SAND!

                Sanso grinned with delight at guessing the riddle so quickly, and then laughed out loud. How clever am I, he said, I guessed the answer to my own riddle! Still chortling, Sanso gave the wet cape a fond pat and set off again.

                The tunnel was widening and eventually broadened into a cavern. Bright sparkling shafts of sunlight were beaming down from several holes in the cavern roof.

                Sanso blinked a few times and squinted until his eyes became accustomed to the light. The cavern was huge, and everywhere he looked were paintings and markings on the walls, even the places impossible to reach. Some were creatures, some were symbols, in black and red and yellow and orange.

                Sanso was entranced. He sank down to a sitting position, and then stretched out flat on his back, gazing at the markings on the walls. He stretched his arms out, filling his palms with sand and then letting it go, and trailing his fingers through the sand…sand…..

                Sand! I may have got the riddle, thought Sanso, but I didn’t get the POINT of the riddle being there in the first place!

                HHMM, I’m not so clever after all……

                #234
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Becky noticed the round jars of coloured sand on the shelf as she went to look for some chocolate. She hadn’t known why at the time, but she’d followed the impulse to bring a little sand home with her from special places, usually scooped up quickly and a bit furtively in the clear plastic wrapper of a cigarette packet. They were all lined up in little round jars from a disused yogurt making machine in front of her unused cookbooks on the kitchen shelf.

                  #232

                  A few days after Sam and Becky’s conversation on the phone, they were having a rehearsal.

                  Just at the moment when they felt stuck again, despite Sam’s moves, Al and Tina, a couple of friends came crashing into the small theater room, and were greeted by an icy cold silence. “Icy” is an exaggeration of course, said Tina, “it just meant I had to put a jacket on again today”.

                  Sorry for being late! said Al a bit uneasy.
                  — Oh you and your uneasiness! said Tina. And I’m sure we’re arriving at the perfect time.
                  — Oh, well, I’m not sure of anything today, said Becky. I’m sick of being force-fed coleslaw, and rigging down holes for myself.

                  A silence was on the scene.

                  :fleuron:

                  At the same time, somewhere on the deck of his ship, Bådul was remembered of the landscapes of his land. He had not really appreciated them before, but now, he was finding them dear to him. They were for the most part a mixture of sandy dunes, from which at times peaks of icy rocky mountains would stick out. Lately he had felt like one of these peaks sticking out of the sands. The sands were shifting.

                  :fleuron:

                  Somewhere in Malvina’s cave.

                  Malvina had been polishing the last dry eggs that she had found and that would not hatch. One of them had some interesting perfect round shape, and a very transparent shell, and it gave her an idea.

                  She asked Leörmn to come.

                  :fleuron:

                  Quintin’s bedroom.

                  [1:01] The clock was saying. Quintin had just awoken from a dream about an elderly woman who was showing him some drawings. These were not actually drawings, but in fact, they were called by the lady “glassart”. It was made, she said, of coloured sands, and would be vitrified by some flame. Quintin in that dream had thought the designs rather crude, but had found the idea interesting, and with great potential.

                  :fleuron:

                  Leörmn came almost instantly, appearing in a puff of teal smoke.

                  Oh, I see… he said, reading Malvina’s mind. And I think I have the perfect sands to go with it.

                  :fleuron:

                  — Why hasn’t that pirate, Badass…
                  Badul, corected Al
                  — Whatever, Becky pursued imperturbably, that pirate Baddock used traveling portals to go and look for the eggs? Why the seas? Sounds a bit complicated and with lots of dangers too.
                  — Good question, answered Al. Well, don’t want to answer for everyone, but in my perception…
                  — Oh, get lost with your “in my perception” thing, that’s becoming tiring… sighed Tina
                  — OK. So, for me, they have forgotten much about magic in his land.
                  — Makes sense… added Sam dreamily… In fact, I’m not sure after all that Badul is only after gold. I think he has found some old desert dragon egg in a cave lost in his country and hopes to revive it, with the help of the people who still know about magic.
                  — Which would explain the quest… said Al
                  — Yeah, and he would have hidden that to the rest of the crew, probably… said Tina

                  :fleuron:

                  Leörmn had now finished assembling the magical artifact.

                  — That’s one of our most beautiful magical artifact I’d say, Malvina gleamed
                  — Oh yes it is. And how would you call it?
                  — Let’s see…

                  :fleuron:

                  sabulmantium !

                  Everyone cracked up at the word that Al had just blurted out. They had decided to have some distraction to alleviate the stress on the play, and they had a fun improvisation game, saying stupid things that went through their minds.

                  — Hey! Don’t laugh like that, it’s something very serious actually, said Al tongue-in-cheek. Let me see…
                  — Hahahaha, the others continued
                  — Well, it’s a divination device, or a sort of compass in a way. I see it as a globe made of glass, with coloured sands in it, and when you focus on it, the sands take all sorts of three dimensional shapes, and become alive…
                  — Wow! Tina couldn’t help but say.

                  :fleuron:

                  Leörmn, as Malvina had been telling him (or vice versa), had put the sabulmantium in one of the tunnels, to a place where he knew Arona would find it, and probably put it to good use for her future adventures.

                  #230

                  Illi had not known as powerful an opponent as this other Illi.

                  At first, she had been remembered of stories of possession by evil sprites (or djinns) that she had heard in her youth, when Ibn al’ Gruk, the old angora storyteller was entertaining the desert settlement beating the rhythm with sonorous drums.

                  So, she had pushed, and rebelled, and fought, as fiercely as any other gripshawk skilled and trained in the hand-to-hand martial arts would have done.

                  But the other Illi wasn’t so easily vanquished.

                  Then Illi had collapsed. She had sorrowfully abandoned the fight to the dreaded adversary.

                  All of this had been occurring in a twinkle of an eye, but for Illi, the fight had been during ages and ages, while she was trying to focus on what BelleDora was explaining to her about the land where she was now.

                  And when she had abandoned the fight, everything was again so easy. She did not care any longer, she was free again. Her evil twin could do anything, it could not matter less.

                  But the evil twin had been in fact doing the same, and she had struggled to keep the focus coherent to her. Didn’t want stupid moth-looking people in her reality, or even spare hair on her face! But that other one was strong, and fierce. And stubborned too!

                  — Who are you? she finally had asked
                  — I’m Illi, had the other answered
                  — I am Illi.
                  — So we are both Illi
                  — Yeah, that may be it, but we are quite different.
                  — Are we? You feel quite like me, despite your stupid affection for smooth baby face.
                  — Well, wouldn’t it be for that, I can see some resemblance…
                  — Will you let me continue my trip?
                  — Oh, I would have, but you’ve hijacked mine, said Illi Fergusson.
                  — So you think.
                  — And where does your trip leads to? asked Illi F. who wasn’t too sure of her trip either
                  — From traveling portals to traveling portals, to discover all that can be discovered on this world. Magical creatures, I distrust them, but the lands and people are fascinating… And what about yours?
                  — Hmm, hmm, pondered Illi F. for a moment… Well, I’m dead actually, but I didn’t expect being dead to be so busy. There are so many things to discover, and I like that. I see funny looking people, and this looks like fun. Like a minute ago, I was in some kind of funny cave, with a parrot…
                  — A what?
                  — A parrot, you know, a kind of talking bird full of colours…
                  — Mmm, some kind of demonic creature for sure. Would have slain it without an hesitation!
                  — Hey! You see, that’s why I didn’t want you to come with me.
                  — Well, seems like for a moment, we don’t have much more choice…
                  — At least, look at the bright side, with us merged like that, each of us can provide the other one with some sound experience on each other’s worlds.
                  — Well, that’s not as airy-fairy as it seems…
                  — Well, thank you for that, I’ll take that as a compliment.
                  — You really are dreadfully serious at times!
                  — Hey, I’m not anybody you see. My parents were aristocrats, I’m not the common hairy lot.
                  — Ahahah, you’re funny.
                  — So are you!

                  And they ended laughing blissfully together.

                  After a moment, Illi asked again:

                  — Huh, a funny cave you said?
                  — Well, yes. With lots of people…
                  — Interesting… I was near some sort of strange cave too a while ago, that is, before I was found by this nice man and his dogs. Perhaps there is some connection here.
                  — And could you go there again?
                  — Not sure if I want to; there were some smelly fumes, smelt like demonic magic in there.
                  — Oh you see, for as long as I’ve been dead, well even if that’s not so long ago, anyway, the point is I’ve not seen any demon so far… blustered Illi F.
                  — Oh, and I have to take your word like that then?
                  — Well, do as you please, but I’m going there again…
                  — Just wait for me now, will you; let’s try to do things hand in hand, because you’re driving me mad!

                  And the deal was made.

                  BelleDora had continued to explain lots of things about her ancestors, but had not really noticed Illi’s attention had been so far away. She was a bit surprised when she found herself interrupted in a middle of a poetic depiction of the coastal plains of the Peninsula of the Dragon Head, where some glistening Capricorns were sometimes seen swimming in the creeks.

                  — And how do I get back safely to this hole where I was found? asked Illi abruptly.

                  #207
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Fiona had just received another rambling note from Dory, and was feeling rather bemused and perplexed.

                    Dory’s notes seemed to make less and less sense. The worst thing was that lately Quintin and Yann appeared to be following her lead. Of course she could be mistaken, the difference in language could be confusing things .. and there was all the merging they had been doing lately which meant they usually spoke in riddles. Fiona spoke very little French, just a few handy phrases such as “hello” and “butt”.

                    But as for Dory

                    Fiona was a kindhearted person and tolerant of others. But these tales Dory was spinning appeared to be increasingly bizarre and nonsensical. Endless beginnings which never seemed to lead anywhere.

                    Am I being too rational? Fiona wondered, always humbly willing to accept her own shortcomings, or “dark corners” as Quintin liked to describe them.

                    One day, after a particularly outrageous note from Dory about an orgy in her kitchen with 57 Italians she had to cook for, Fiona felt compelled to gently and tactfully question Dory.

                    You are just out for revenge, Dory had hissed at her. It’s just a dream, I think … hmmmmm or am I a dream … or is it all a dream ….. I will go and ask Archie! and off she had dashed in a flurry of colourful shawls.

                    Bugger this, thought Fiona. Revenge had been the last thing on her sweet natured mind. With no more housework left to complete, she decided to go for a walk to the nearby cafe to take her mind from all this madness.

                    #202
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Jacqueline Bleomelen was a strict yet very affectionate nanny. Her Breton name being barely pronounceable by the English speaking kids she had at her charge, she was most of the time simply called Nanny.

                      Once, one of the rude kids from a previous home where she had been serving an atrociously callous French Count, had called her an Old Gibbon, referring to her wrinkled face. But she had a very light-hearted nature, and wouldn’t show any hint of taking offense.

                      Better, she liked the association with the playful and ingenious apes, and kept the moniker as it was more easily pronounced by the English kids she had in charge, and made them laugh that they could be so irreverent without facing punishment.

                      For special occasions, Jacqueline was wearing a funny costume that made the children often wonder why she had put some funny hat with little moth-feelers loose on her chin, but that, she had explained was a traditional dress from her homeland of Brittany.

                      Tonight, Jacqueline, or Nanny Gibbon, was having a funny dream, but perhaps that have been because she had been very excited by that excerpt she had read before going to sleep. As she was very pious, every night before going to bed, she would read a random quote of the Bible.

                      Last night it had been the Old Testament, from the Book of Joshua. It was about the conquest of the Promise Land, and talked about a king from Hazor named Jabin…

                      And in her dream, Jabin was a strange looking man, lost in the middle of ruins, who wanted to contact a woman about discoveries he had made in the Promise Land. He had found an entrance to a cave that had befuddled him. He hadn’t ventured too far into the cave, but anytime he had, he had found it impossibly deep and wide. So he wanted to share that discovery with that woman, but she was flying around in a parrot-coloured ballet tutu, on top of a three-humped flying camel…

                      Even the rigorous Jacqueline couldn’t repress a laugh at the unlikely images that her tired mind had produced.

                      #191
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        The singing in the next room was getting louder. As Dory started to sing along, she felt better. Bugger this! she shouted, and leapt off the musty sofa. The trip to the cave! She felt around the floor with her feet for her shoes, and wasn’t altogether surprised to find her magic flying sandals. Perfect, how perfect is that! She looked around the cluttered shop store room as she buckled the sandals straps. She grabbed a bright blue energy blanket off a pile of coloured shawls, a pith helmet off a hatstand, a mini magic tool kit in a terracotta patterned kilim bag, and on impulse, a glass egg timer with bright fuchsia pink sand.

                        As she ran out of the back door a parrot in an elaborate wrought iron cage squalked ‘Don’t forget the key, dear, don’t forget the key’.

                        Key? What key?

                        ‘Don’t forget the key dear don’t forget the key dear don’t forget the key…’

                        WHAT bloody key dear! Dory was really anxious to get to the cave now, but something held her back.

                        The key, the key… There was something she couldn’t quite remember about a key. She looked around the room in a panic, It could take me HOURS to find the key in here, she ranted. Ok, ok, I tell you what, she said to the bird, I’ll let you out of that cage, you find the key, and catch me up. Meet me at the cave with the key, OK?

                        #184

                        The transmugrification was about to start.

                        Inspired by the improvised tune of Malvina, Leörmn had felt new arrangements coming for the cave.

                        He had been checking out every living being in the cave, and wanted to make things less complicated for them, without startling them too much. For creatures, that was easy, he could communicate well with them, and they knew the changes would be temporary.

                        But for humans, let alone gripshawks, that was more difficult as they could play deaf as pleased them.

                        Hopefully, the gripshawk was in good hands outside the cave, and that was probably better for her, as she would probably have hurt herself more than was necessary in not listening to the exhortations to stay calm.

                        As for the young adventuress, she was sleeping joyfully, and the little glukenitch that Leörmn had left to her side to keep watch and warn him in case she would be too distressed was silently watching over her.

                        Írtak was aware that the process was about to begin, as he had been trained by Malvina to listen to the flimsiest changes in the cave, and how his body was responding to these subtle modifications. This one would probably become of great dragon rider, but for now he was young and needed to hone his abilities. His father had been renouncing of telling him what was best and most reasonable for him to do, and allowed him to spend much time in the cave. He was not really interested by these magical things, but he knew they were important for his son, and was encouraging, in his own manner.

                        As for Malvina, she was unaffected in a way, because she was part of Leörmn as much as he was a part of her, and it was like they were moving hand in hand. These hiding and seeking the eggs were like a playful game between them, because their interests were different, but all in all, they were one, and trusted each other completely.

                        The more troublesome was perhaps Sanso, the wanderer. This one seemed trapped in between Worlds. The caves at times also acted as portals between Worlds, and this one had been unknowingly crossing the Worlds, as the delimitations between imagination and reality were only in words, and did not really exist. Leörmn was hoping he would not appear in the midst of the ruckus.

                        So, on one of the wooden decks near the apartments of Malvina, he sat, overlooking the glowing eggs, and bathing into the music.

                        Closing his eyes, he felt every part of the cave as if it were an extension of his own body, which was in fact much bigger than this current appearance, so big in fact that it was the World itself. And every creature breathing in it was a very cherished part of his body, and he slowly breathed in and out.

                        He envisioned a great light pouring from the volcanic insides of the cavern, which inundated the cave in a misty warmth. It was a loving light that neither glukenitches nor schpurniatz feared. And the sinuous insides of the caves expanded and straightened in huge corridors, and doors disappeared, and gorgeous paintings from the mind and craft of Malvina decorated the walls in rich colours.

                        And near the platform, inside the hall, a huge table sprung from the floor, for the banquet that was to come.

                        And a new egg was laid somewhere in the cave, glowing of an emerald tint.

                        This “one” was a bit different though…

                        #174
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Dory felt like a wet blanket. She’d overdosed on colours in the shawl and cape shop, and had to lie down in the back room. As she waited for the room to stop spinning, sprawled on a rather smelly old sofa that seemed more like a glukenitch bed than a sofa, she listened to various snatches of conversations through the thin walls.

                          #167
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Sanso was used to travelling alone. He’d been exploring this cave on his own for several years now, and it suited him, on the whole. No need to confer, or compromise, or rush to keep up, or slow down to let others catch up. He could follow his own impulses without hindrance. He did meet others on his travels, but only at the cave entrances, or rather, the times and places that the cave entrances revealed. He never felt an urge to settle though at any of these places, always compelled to return to the caves mysterious and ever changing labyrinthine tunnels.

                            The disembodied voices and coloured wispies were always with him in the tunnels. Sometimes one would be louder than another for awhile, then another would assume prominence. The bleakest coldest times were when he wasn’t noticing them; that’s when he found himself going round and round in circles, lost in the maze.

                            The electric blue wispy had been around alot lately, comforting him with little explosions of pinprick blue lights, and a golden mustard yellow one. English, not French mustard, he reminded himself, although he didn’t think it mattered and wondered why he’d thought it.

                            Sanso had been almost crawling for some time in a particuarly cramped and difficult tunnel; bent double for most of the time, his back was aching and he longed to stretch out. The thought of going back, retracing his steps, was unbearable, so he continued, and tried not to be discouraged.
                            ‘Find something to appreciate, Appreciation is the key’ the voice of the blue wispy sounded amused, but in a kindly and endearing sort of way. Harumph, muttered Sanso, easy to say! It would help if there was something to appreciate!

                            Just then Sanso heard another voice, muttering something over and over again. ‘… dragon egg dragon… egg dog egg … dragon dog egg…’ What the heck was that all about?

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