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  • in reply to: The Stories So Near #4693
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Some updates on the Heartwoods Weave

      So far, there were loosely 2 chapters in this story, and we’re entering the 3rd.
      Let’s call them:

      • Ch. 1 – The Curses of the Stolen Shards
      • Ch. 2 – The Flight to the Desert Mountains
      • Ch. 3 – Down the Lands of Giants

      Ch. 1 – The Curses of the Stolen Shards

      In Chapter One, we get acquainted with the main characters as their destinies intertwine (Rukshan, Glynis, Eleri, Gorrash, Fox, Olliver and Tak).
      In a long past, the Forest held a powerful artifact created and left behind as a seal by the Gods now departed in their World: a Gem of Creation. It was defiled by thieves (the 7 characters in their previous incarnations of Dark Fae (Ru), Toothless Dragon (Gl), Laughing Crone (El), Mapster Dwarf (Go), Glade Troll (Fo), Trickster Dryad (Ol), Tricked Girl (Ta)), and they all took a shard of the Gem, although the innocent girl was tricked to open the woods by a promise of resurrecting a loved one, and resented all the others for it. She unwittingly created the curse all characters were suffering from, as an eternal punishment. Removing the Gem from the center of the Forest and breaking it started a chain of events, leading to many changes in the World. The Forest continued to grow and claim land, and around the (Dragon) Heartwoods at the center, grew many other woods – the Haunted Bamboo Forest, the Enchanted Forest, the Hermit’s Forest, the Fae’s Forest etc. At the other side, Cities had developed, and at the moment of the story, started to gain control over the magical world of Old.
      From the special abilities the Seven gained, some changes were triggered too. One God left behind was turned into stone by the now young Crone (E).
      Due to the curse, their memories were lost, and they were born again in many places and other forms.
      During the course of Ch.1, they got healed with the help of Master Gibbon, and the Braider Shaman Kumihimo, who directed Rukshan how to use the Vanishing Book, which once completed by all, and burnt as an offering, lifted the curse. Tak (the Girl of the origin story), now a shapeshifting Gibbon boy, learned to let go of the pain, and to start to live as a young orphan under the gentle care of the writer Margoritt Loursenoir and her goat Emma, in a cottage in the woods.
      Glynis, a powerful healer with a knack for potions, still haven’t found a way to undo the curse of her scales, which she accepts, has found residency and new friends and a funny parrot named Sunshine. Eleri besides her exploration of anti-gravity, learnt to make peace with the reawakened God Hasamelis no longer vengeful but annoyed at being ignored for a mortal Yorath. Eleri continues to love to butt heads with the iniquities of the world, which are never in lack, often embodied by Leroway and his thugs. Gorrash, who adopted the little baby Snoots activated by Glynis’ potions seemed simply happy to have found a community. Fox, a fox which under the tutelage of Master Gibbon, learnt to shapeshift as a human for all his work and accumulation of good karma. Olliver, a young man with potential, found his power by activating the teleporting egg Rukshan gave him. As for Rukshan, who was plagued by ghosts and dark forces, he found a way to relieve the Forest and the world of their curse, but his world is torn between his duties towards his Fae family in the woods, his impossible love for his Queen, and his wants for a different life of exploration, especially now knowing his past is more than what he thought he knew.
      At the end of the chapter, the Door to the God’s realm, at the center of the Forest seems to have reopened.

      Ch. 2 – The Flight to the Desert Mountains

      In the second Chapter, strange sightings of light beams in the mountains prompt some of our friends to go investigate, while in the cottage, the others stay to repel encroachments by brutal modernity embodied by Leroway and his minions. Glynis has found a way to be rid of her scales, but almost failed due to Tak’s appetite for untested potions. Remaking the potion, and succeeding at last, she often still keeps her burka as fond token of her trials. Eleri is spreading glamour bomb concrete statues in the woods, and trying her hand with Glynis supervision at potions to camouflage the cottage through an invisibility spell. Muriel, Margoritt’s sister, comes for a visit.
      In the mountains, the venturing heroes are caught in a sand storm and discover spirits trapped in mystical objects. Pushing forward through the mountain, they are tracked and hunted by packs of hellhounds, and dark energy released from an earthquake. Rukshan works on a magical mandala with the help and protection of his friends. Olliver discovers a new teleportation trick making him appear two places at once. Kumihimo rejoins the friends in trouble, and they all try to leave through the magical portal, while Fox baits the dogs and the Shadow. Eerily, only Fox emerges from the portal, to find a desolated, burnt Forest and his friends all gone. They had been too late, and the Shadow went with them through the portal instead of being destroyed. Luckily, a last potion left by Glynis is able to rewind Fox in time, and succeed in undoing the disaster. The beaming lights were only honeypots for wandering travellers, it turned out.
      Shaken by the ordeal, Rukshan leaves the party for some R&R time in the parallel world of the Faes, which is now mostly abandoned.

      Ch. 3 – Down the Lands of Giants

      In Chapter 3, which has only just begun, some time has passed, and Margoritt has come back to the City, at the beginning of winter for some special kneedle treatments. Glynis and Margoritt are in turn taking care of Tak, who has joined a local school, where he seems to have befriended a mysterious girl Nesingwarys (Nesy). Gorrash seems to have been hurt, broken whilst in his statue form by Leroway’s thugs, but the Snoot babies are still staying with him, so there is hope. Fox is always hungry, and helps with the reconstruction work for the cottage, which was damaged in a fire (we suppose during Leroway’s men foray in the woods).
      Rukshan emerges from his retreat after an encounter with a mad Fae, babbling about a Dark Lord’s return. Piecing clues together, he finds a long lost World Map and connection with a renegade magician who may have been the Maker of Gorrash (and maybe linked to the trapped spirits in the mountain after all). He sends a pigeon to his friends before he returns to the thick of the Heartwoods.
      Now, it seems the Door to the God’s realm has reopened the ancient Realms of the Underworld too, all accessible through the central pillar of the World, intersecting their World precisely at the Heartwoods, were the Gem of Creation originally was. He’s planning to go to the long lost Underworld of the Giants, were he suspects the so-called Dark Lord is hiding.

      in reply to: The Chronicles of the Flying Fish Inn #4692

      BERT:

      The old secrets are going to get me in the end. But you know what, it’s still better than choking on the goddamn lizard’s stew.

      I tried to protect the family from all the bloody secrets, but they’re working against me, Dodo for one, who doesn’t like secrets, the sweet twat. Time is against me too.

      Of course I didn’t want to sell the Inn, even if it wasn’t for what’s hidden there, and all the secret entrances to the old mines, it was still Abby’s legacy. Her mother had to endure that sorry abusive husband of hers for years, it’s only fair she got something in return. The bastard didn’t know it, but the best thing in his life, his daughter Abscynthia wasn’t even his, she was mine. In the end, I’m glad she buggered off this town, her so-called “disparition” that made everyone run in circles for months. For her own sake, wherever she is now, she was better off.
      Only probably Mater knows now about our crazy ties, and she’ll take this secret to her grave I’m sure. But I still want to take care of my grand children, the little buggers. Even had founded that smartass Prune for her dreams of university. Good for her.

      All those sudden booking at the Inn? Don’t trust ‘em. Be here for the spiritual voodoo is one thing, but me, can’t fool me with that. The package, it never arrived. I’m sure it’s no coincidence, they’re onto us.

      And they’re here for one thing.

      The chests of gold.

      in reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler #4688

      “It is a rather peculiar mystery indeed, don’t you think.” Liz leaned suggestively towards the Inspector. He had insisted to keep his trench-coat on, which for some reason she was finding incredibly alluring. It reminded her of all the fun she had in the past, playing her favourite character, Becky in tarty nun’s outfit. She made a mental note for the next costumed party.

      “Some peanuts, Inspector?”
      “Good gracious, no. I’m terribly allergic to nuts, but I’m partial to your delicious canapés.”

      Luckily for him, he couldn’t see Finnley overlooking behind the velvet curtains and the paneled walls, glaring at Liz for taking the credit of her cooking.

      After a mouthful of tarragon cod pâté with capers, Walter leaned back and a little further from Liz and said “Mmm, delicious. Well, it is indeed quite a good mystery you’ve chosen to write about. All these keys, I love the idea. It sounds out of a spy novel, but I do wonder what are the connections, you see, in most crimes I’ve solved in the past,” he cleared his throat, taking the glass of red wine Finnley had just brought “there is always a good chance the culprit is closer than you know. The skill is always to find the hidden connection.”

      “Aaah. I’m so glad you’re saying that Walter, I was telling them the same no later than this morning!”
      She took a random ramekin from the coffee table “some peanuts?”.

      in reply to: Newsreel from the Rim of the Realm #4687

      Ric was confused as to why he found himself flushed and vaguely excited by Bossy Mam’s sudden and attractive outburst.
      He was so glad the two harpies were off to goat knows where, or they would have tortured him with no end of gossiping.

      Still troubled by the stirring of emotions, he looked around, and almost spilled the cup of over-infused lapsang souchong tea he had prepared. Miss Bossy was the only one to fancy the strong flavour in a way only a former chain smoker could.

      Thankfully, she was still glaring at the window, and while he had no doubt he couldn’t hope to give her the slip for that sort of things, she probably had decided to just let it go.

      He took the chance to run to the archives, and started to dig up all he could on the Doctor.
      Sadly, the documents were few and sparse. Hilda and Connie were not known for their order in keeping records. Their notes looked more like herbariums from a botanist plagued with ADHD. But that probably meant there were lots of overlooked clues.

      He flipped through the dusty pages for a good hour, eyes wet with allergies, and he was about to bring Miss Bossy the sorry pile he had collected when a light bulb lit in his mind.

      How could I miss it!

      He’d never thought about it, but now, a lot of it started to make sense.

      Thinking about how Miss Bossy would probably be pleased by the news, he started to become red again, and hyperventilate.

      Calm down amigo, think about your abuela, and her awful tapas,… thaaat’s it. Crème d’anchovies with pickled strawberries… Jellyfish soufflés with poached snail eggs on rocket salad.

      His mind was rapidly quite sober again.

      Taking the pile of notes, he landed it messily on the desk, almost startling Miss Bossy.

      “Sorry for the interruption, M’am, but I may have found something…”
      “Fine, there’s no need for theatrics, spill it!” Miss Bossy was ever the no-nonsense straight-to-business personality. Some would have called her rude, but they were ignorants, and possibly all dead now.

      “There was a clue, hidden in the trail of Hilda’s collection. I’m not sure how we have missed it.”

      “Ricardooo…” Miss Bossy’s voice was showing a soupçon of annoyance.

      “Yes, pardon me, I’m digressing. Look! Right here!”

      “What? How is it possible? Is that who I think it is?”

      “I think so.”

      They turned around to look across the hall at Sweet Sophie blissfully snoring.

      “I think she was one of her first patient-slash-assistant.”

      “How quaint. But, that explains a lot. Wait a minute. I thought none of his patients were ever found… alive?”

      “Maybe she outsmarted him…”

      They both weren’t too convinced about that. But they knew now old Sweet Sophie was probably unwittingly holding the key to the elusive Doctor.

      in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4684

      It was done. The spell was lifted and Rukshan could see the path ahead.

      Some memories remained trapped in inaccessible places yet, but he wouldn’t need those; they were remnants from a different past.

      Now his mission was clear, he was to go back to the Forest, to gain passage to Jötunheimr, the land of Giants, and find the Master, that powerful Alchemist able to imbue life into stone. The ones that some had called Necromancer, or Dark Lord.

      in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4683

      It took him three days in total. The wall was slippery in places, and distraction was always there.
      But he was done with the second wall.

      There was a last one, the largest, encircling all, but it seemed here to confuse.
      Spores were sending whiffs of hallucinogenic compounds in the misty air.
      After a whole day, he felt like he’d gone through the same places over and over.

      Labyrinth, but in his own mind.

      He would have to think fast or risk being trapped and finish as meat for carrion crows.

      The crows
      They know the way…

      It was a leap of faith to trust the sound of the birds, but nature had no evil intent, only men had developed the skill. They only followed their nature.

      He drew a sigil on the ground, to tune in with the birds spirits.

      Moments after, he could see through their eyes. He only needed to follow their senses, and ignore his own.

      He could see there was some walk ahead of him.

      in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4682

      He was through the first wall, but the second one was larger, further, and seemed indomitable.
      This one was built to discourage.

      Something moved and jiggled in his rucksack. An enchanted rope, of course.

      It would take a day or two to climb over and down, but with the rope, he could make it through.

      in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4681

      The path ahead was blocked. Repeatedly.

      Some filter was preventing him to access the path, and move forward.

      He wished he had an oiliphant, or something equally powerful that could blast through. But more subtle measures were required. The evil that blocked his path was a different kind of monster, something built on inaction, and slow decay. One would exhaust oneself to argue with it, and moving it with force would only ensure its full and entirely focused resistance.
      Patience and proper action, in a flow like water. It was more than a magical mantra, it should be a way of life.

      Rukshan had looked at his options, and the map he found only confirmed what he had surmised so far. There were three barmkins, old defensive enclosures that hindered his way out of the Zaunoff Camp Fort, the Southern outpost leading to the safety of the Forest’s outer groves.

      Tackling the first wall would test his resolve, but he was ready. He removed his cloak, stretched his back and cracked his knuckles.

      Move like water

      The creeping ivy and catsfoot flowers started to react and whisper in the wind.

      A hole? There was a hole in the old wall, and with some chance, the plants would lead him through.

      in reply to: The Stories So Near #4678
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        1st DOLL

        • (Lucinda describes a) “strange gaunt doll with the grey dreadlocks and patchwork dress”
        • Its description matches DidoAunt Idle” of the Flying Fish Inn
        • called “Ima” by the Maker
        • Made in Canada, sent to Australia, got separated from its key at an airport, found its way to a market in Canada where Lucinda acquired it.

        1st KEY

        • Currently with Arona, in Australia

        What it does/open

        • Still a mystery as of now
        in reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel #4677

        There were strong wind currents when they passed above land, drafts of warm air competing with each other, and it took some skill to land the Jiborium Air Express without any damage.

        Albie was impressed as he observed Arona swinging between cordages, pushing the levers for added hot air, or throwing away some ballast to adjust their elevation.

        “It’s incredible the distance we can travel without refueling,” he mused aloud. As if Australia’s coasts weren’t huge enough, their travel inland seemed to have stretched for days. Sanso had been seasick most of the time, and at first Arona thought his retching was just emotion sickness, but it was only motion after all.

        “The secret is in the lard, boy. It burns longer.” Sanso said, before reaching for a bucket.
        He resumed. “Arona could have taken a Zeppelin you know, the Emporium always used to have few spares, they’re so much more comfortable, and still quite affordable.”

        “Guess your comfort wasn’t the priority, nor were you expected, were you?” Mandrake was in a somber mood, well, somberer than usual.
        “Mmh, someone’s sprightly today! Guess it doesn’t have anything to do with Ugo the gecko, does it?”

        The bickering continued a while longer after all the landing was done, and the balloon was folded back in a neat package.

        Mandrake! are you coming, or do you prefer to argument to death under the sun?”
        “Of course I’m coming.” The cat stretched and jumped on his feet, with Albie in tow.

        “Before we venture further in Mutitjulu land, we’ll need to seek permission from the local shaman.” Arona said.
        Noticing the boy, she asked “Aren’t your parents going to be concerned, you seem a little far from home!”

        “We can still send them a postcard?” he answered tentatively. “It’ll be like a quest, a rite of passage for me. After that, I’ll be a man in my village!”

        “Well, when you have had enough, let me know. I think most bodies of water are connected to the Doline, I can just send a magical trace with the last pearls to guide you home.”

        “That is kind and generous, Milady. Thank you.”

        “So what is our quest?” Sanso seemed to creep out of the shadows where he was lurking.

        “I don’t know about you Sir,” Albie jumped, “but mine is clear now. I am at Milady’s… and Milord’s (he added for Mandrake) service.”

        “Well, that won’t surely get us run in circles now.” Mandrake sniggered. He turned to Arona who was already ready to trek in the rocks and sand. “What about you? Has your quest anything to do with that key you got?”

        in reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler #4670
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Walter Melon knew there was something fishy about this invitation. Or maybe that was only the scent of homemade manure lingering on the Bristol board.

          In his line of work, you couldn’t be careful enough. And his last visit to the Liz Manor had had its fair share of fishiness, stockings notwithstanding.

          The invitation and the signature were obviously fake, even if the counterfeiter had taken some pain at imitating the shaky signature of the Dame of the place. But the lack of typos were a dead give-away.

          I need your help to solve a tantalizing mystery in my latest novel, please come to my party Inspector. You’ll only need wear a towel, and bring your sharpest tools. I mean, your brains.
          Sincerely yours, Elizabeth Mary Tattler

          in reply to: Pop﹡in People Tribulations #4666

          Granola, with all the expounding of new information felt a bit dizzy and in need of a quiet recap.
          The squishy giraffe was a place as good as any for a bit of rest, but to be perfectly honest, the pets around the place didn’t make the greatest conversationists. And she didn’t want to look like she didn’t do her homework and get admonished by her bleu friend.

          “Think,” she said “by now, you can go about any place in their expansively creative stories.” —which was actually, like travelling inside her friends’ memories, considering the time they all spent in these universes, they were almost real, quite tangible.
          “Think about one of their character, one who always seems to hold answers…”

          Bam swoosh

          “It didn’t take long.”

          She could squint in the dark and see a faint glow. “Wait… Don’t tell me I’m in one of these… kluknish… what’s these bat things with the impossible name…”

          It’s glükenitch actually the voice was coming from below, but speaking directly in her head. And you don’t have to hide in one, really. Don’t you have some better character to be?

          She recognized the dragon. “Shit,” she muttered, “that’s not the one I was thinking about; always answering in riddles, that much I remember; don’t need to add more confusion! As if speaking through the whale last time wasn’t messy enough.”

          True, but you got a glimpse of one of the keys, haven’t you?

          She froze in her tracks. “What do you know about these keys?”

          Not much, I’m loath to say. Besides, what should I know about it, I’m not from this world, am I now?

          “Damn riddles,” she said. But the dragon had a point. She wasn’t in the right world to check on her friends.

          “Can you tell me something useful at least?” she asked the dragon before deciding to pop-out.

          Maybe, yes… See, you pop-in naturally where the action is. It’s only natural that the bigger the action, the stronger the pull…

          Granola hadn’t thought of that. She had been a bit too focused in getting more physical and interacting outside. But the last week (in her friends’ time continuity), there has been more targeted jumps, less chaotic, and more frequent. It’s like she could tune in.
          And for now, the pull was in Australia.
          Come to think of it, she may have had a concurrent focus there. She only had to believe she could be there, right place, right time, right person… An Aboriginal woman, what was her name?

          Tiku

          in reply to: Newsreel from the Rim of the Realm #4662

          “I have to say,” Miss Bossy Pants took a dramatic pause for maximum effect “that you all have been incredulously industrious.”

          “Is she insulting us again?” Hilda hissed at Connie.
          “Shht! There’s no tellin’ with her…” Connie replied, as baffled as the other by the impromptu award ceremony.

          “Ahem-hem-hm!” Miss Pants melodiously hummed and cleared her voice making sure she had everyone’s attention, which was quite a challenge, if you’d asked her. Of course, she relished a challenge.
          “As I was saying, you all have been busy, and delivered well…”

          “Aaah, that’s what she meant!” whispered Connie
          “She should have said so, why all the confusing pistache?”
          “You mean panache?”
          “No, although I’d fancy a nice beer and lemonade.”

          Once they had finished their sideways discussion, Miss Bossy had already gone to explain the first award category : “Most Stylistic Synchronistic Article”.

          “It’s going to take a while” Ricardo winked at them, “considering all the articles you’ve produced this week only. But I wouldn’t discard the possibility of Sophie winning one yet.”

          Both Connie and Hilda’s faces turned woebegone.

          in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4655

          He didn’t like the City, but there he was again. There seemed to always be a trail of clues leading back to it, no matter how much he wanted to distance himself from it.

          Rukshan wanted to make quick thing of his mission there. Find the librarian and trade the old map that the Sages had given him during the gathering, for another one.
          His appointed quest was to find the origin of the dark force, and for that, all clues seemed to point toward the elusive Master that Gorrash said had created him.

          The Sages in the Forest had told Rukshan about how, long before, the Master was banned from the magic circle in the Forest for practicing forbidden magic. They suspected he had since been hidden in the land of the Giants. The librarian had the map that Rukshan needed in order to get there.

          “Of course” he said, looking at the worn-out parchment that the librarian had taken from a large leather binder. The land of the Giant was on no map known to man, because their land was on another plane, much like the Shadow world of the Faes. Except this one was underground, in a hollow plane under theirs, untouched by men, with only rare points where both worlds touched.

          Of course, the portal to this world was back at the center of the Forest.

          in reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel #4652

          Despite the underground currents, following the trail of blue glow from the glukenitches’ droppings was easy; far less subtle than old fashioned glow worms starmap reading…
          Mandrake was alerted to a sudden drop when the trail started to disappear abruptly, indicating the strong possibility of a chute of some kind.
          He only managed to catch Albie’s pants before he fell right in, and pulled both of them back to the shore. He had to be sure.

          “Good thing, that slimey dragon managed to power back the sabulmantium, we may get a hint of where we’re headed to.”
          “There’s no other way than the waterfall, is there Mr Mandrake?”
          “Shht. Let me concentrate, this thing is sensitive.”

          Under the paws of the cat, the sand inside the clear sphere started to move in shapes and describe a living story.

          “Mmm. Seems he wasn’t joking, never seen this thing behave so strangely before.”
          “What is this?”
          “It looks like something that I have seen a long time ago, but that wasn’t in this dimension… I guess we won’t know for sure until we get there. Ready boy for the dive of your life?”

          Albie didn’t have time to answer, as the cat wasn’t waiting for him.

          :fleuron2:
          :fleuron2:
          :fleuron2:
          :fleuron2:
          :fleuron2:
          :fleuron2:
          :fleuron2:
          :fleuron2:
          :fleuron2:

          The fall seemed to last forever. But then a light appeared, and they started to float up, up, up.

          When they emerged, they were clearly out of swamp waters. Salty water was all they could see for miles around.

          “A blessing you had an inflatable zodiac in your purse, Sir.” the boy said to the cat once they were up on the boat, waiting for a sign as to where next.

          “Whales! Whales!” the boy shouted excitedly, pointing to the shapes moving under their boat.

          “Ah, finally, someone with some wits about that can tell us some valuable information.”
          It didn’t take long to Mandrake to grab the attention of one of the belugas and engage the conversation; it didn’t seem particularly long to Albie, but it seemed like a lot was exchanged.

          “We’re on the Gold Coast of Australia” Mandrake said. “That dimension is a bit tricky for my species, humans here take us for lazy playthings and don’t really understand us, so I may have to rely on you for some of the talking, boy.”
          “For sure, Mr Mandrake. Did you get any news as to where Ms Arona might be?”
          “Might be. That whale started to babble thing about granola cookies and dolls. I have no idea what she meant, she might have been popped in by some alien force. Luckily whales are used to manage multiple personalities well, so I managed to get the rest of the navigational hints once she got her channels back in order.”
          “So where to now?”
          “Starboard, son, starboard!”

          in reply to: Newsreel from the Rim of the Realm #4645

          It had been a day of full work for Ricardo, rather than his frequently dull work at the paper.
          Connie and Hilda were crazily busy bouncing off bits of odd news to each other and it was a sort of playful banter that even had Sweet Sophie come out of her pre-lunch-post-lunch slumber that occasionally trailed until tea time.

          News of the Rim had been scarce, there was no denying. Honestly, he wondered how Bossy M’am managed to still pay the bills and their wages, however meager those (or his) were. He giggled thinking about how she probably scared the debt collectors off their wits with her best impersonation of Johnny Depp playing Jack Sparrow playing Tootsie meets Freddy Krueger.

          Speaking of which, he couldn’t help but eavesdrop, while pretending to clean the coffee cups and the butter knives full of vegemite and scone crumbs.

          “Dolls! Are you daft? What about all those crop circles in France instead?”
          “Listen, you decrepit tart, I’m telling you there’s plenty to investigate about this Findmy stuff group. Secret dolls scattered around the world, masonic occult secret symbols…”
          “Hardly matter for an insert on 4th page, dear. While on the other hand, elongated skulls, secret underground bases in Antarctica…”
          “We talked about this! Conspiracy theories are off limits! We only want the real stuff, the odd happenings that hits your neighbour that you wouldn’t have known about without us reporting it! But dolls! that’s something, no?”
          “Flimsy at best…”
          “What else then?”
          “I don’t know, seesh, what about Hundreds attending two frogs wedding in India ?”
          “Already covered, too mainstream…”
          “What about the Mothman of Tchernobyl?”
          “We stopped cryptozoology, remember, after that pathetic chase after the trenchcoat ape that got us torpedoed in the other paper rags when we reported it without checking our facts?”
          “Facts! FACTS! Don’t you get me started about FACTS!”

          Suddenly, they both turned simultaneously at Ricardo, seemingly realizing his presence.

          Ric’, this cuppa isn’t going to make itself, dear.” They both said like a couple of creepily synched automatons.

          in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4640

          The City of the Seven Hills wasn’t a pleasant city by many aspects, but at any time of the year, it was a sight to behold.

          Margoritt was walking with force into the streets, a warm shawl wrapped around her head like she’d seen the nomads do in the deserts, equipped with odd dark specs she’d made herself ages ago with twisted copper wires and cut bottle bottoms blackened over the smoke of dead branches from the Ancient Forest when she’d started to stay there for her escapades over the years. She liked how the narrowed down vision from the dark specs made the reflection of the sun over the tall white buildings less blinding.

          It was the time of year where the first colds started to take the land by surprise, and it was more enjoyable to stay in the City rather than in her lodge. She was glad to let her little company of friends remain there, so she had the blacksmith make a few duplicates of the key. It was merely a symbolic gesture, after all, the front door’s lock had never worked.

          “It’s going to be the Sprites’ Summer, what a shame…” she liked to talk, but in the City, people didn’t pay much attention to each others, so she could speak to herself, and nobody would care. Sprites’ Summer was that blessed time when the Forest started to change colours and pare itself in gold before the biting colds would strip the trees down to their bare branches and bark. She loved the Forest this time of the year, but she had to come back with Mr Minn when he’d come to check on her. Her knees were painful, and she needed some needle work done on them. Only in the City could you find the best needlepractors.

          in reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel #4637

          Before Mandrake jumped in the cold stream, he heard the dragon say “There, she’s here again. I can feel a steady pulse, at least once a day!”

          “Quantity over audacity… Pray she keeps the pace and we’ll get this over quick” Mandrake handed the nearly empty bottle of Nhum to Albie who was fitted with a spare scuba diving gear, ready to take on a journey to find in which story Arona was… pulsing.

          in reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods #4632

          Sometimes, you have to go underground to uncover the truth.

          Rukshan thought it meant taking the new underground carts once only.

          Frankly, he’d preferred to travel through the familiar Shadow Maps, the ones Dark Faes like him could draw, that would give them access to a secret parallel world of mist and phantoms, shadows and secrets. It was the true world the Faes originated from, long ago, in a time before history.

          It wasn’t used much nowadays, most Centenial Faes having lost the capacity, or the interest in the place, leaving only bitter unsavoury people creeping there, spying on secrets, and trading in for favours, while being too afraid to leave the known parallel world, too afraid that if they left it, they’d lose the way back.
          For Rukshan and a few in the Queen’s lineage, the place was still more or less of a familiar dwelling, a winter residence of sorts, for when solace and retreat was required.

          Only the Shadow Maps weren’t safe any longer, something had crept along the lay lines and was lurking at every corner, keeping guard at most of the known entrances and reporting to some unknown power.

          Few moons back, Rukshan was still meditating in the Shadow world, not very far from the work at the cottage, which he could hear at times through the thin dimensional walls, when he came across Konrad. Konrad, another Fae from the Old Houses, one with a heavy secret. “I’ve hidden her from him” he told him in short broken sentences. “His daughter, Nesingwarys, she is hidden for now, but He’ll be looking for her, once He recovers, and she won’t be safe. He can’t find her, I have to protect her, she holds power to bring his reign of terror back.”

          Truly, it didn’t make a lot of sense, but it had picked his curiosity. Rukshan left the other Fae to his apparent madness, but wondered about the coincidence. That Garl, the name Konrad gave to the dark fallen monarch, according to what he could piece together, seemed to have been vanquished or disappeared about the same time they’d all managed to repel the Shadow in the Forest.

          He would usually have left it at that, but then, a few days later, started to realize something was wrong in the Shadow world, and that this very something was growing.

          “And now, I’m stuck in an underground cart crammed full of people to go to the city. And they call that progress…”

          A bearded guy smelling of piss and wine, was doing acrobatics with his crutches and what was left of his left leg. He was looking at people with a half-toothed grin and a blissful face while muttering things Rukshan couldn’t figure. His face reminded him of a thespian he’d known. Rukshan couldn’t shake the feeling there was message in that. When the underground cart dinged to announce the Grand Belfrey Station, Rukshan was relieved to finally be out for fresh air. Magnificent craftsmanship he would say to the gnomes in charge of the tunnels, but really, underground cart wasn’t his thing.

          in reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel #4629

          Leörmn smiled a long smile.

          “What? Are you going to look at me stupidly and wait to say some mysterious nonsense? We haven’t got time for that.” Mandrake was clearly not impressed by the large scaleless pale dragon, with the green frills around the crest, reclining on the side of the pool, and still looking a few heads taller than him and Albie combined.

          “Of course not. Let me charge that for you.” With one flick of his long fingers, the dragon zapped the sabulmantium that was in the magical carry-all-you-can pouch the cat had at his belt.

          “Oh WAIT! Damn it, you ol’ reptile, you mind where you aim!” The zapping had gone a little too close.

          Leörmn smiled again, “Now, you wanted to know were she hides.” His smile disappeared. “I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do, she seems hidden from me too. But there is a chance. I’ve picked up her energy signature not so long ago. She’s in a different dimension, but never long at one place. For some reason, it’s like she’s entangled herself with other lives and get lost at times.”

          “Can you lead me to the place?”

          “Place & time, my friend. Yes, I believe I can. The Doline underground water tunnels can lead you to many places and times. I’ve drawn a path for you. Just take your scuba, and follow the glukenitch lights at the bottom.”

          Albie looked amazed and excited at the opportunity.

          The cat grunted in his whiskers “Don’t get excited lad. What he means is glukenitch poos.”

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