mudlands

[mudlands]

[mudlands]

Rathbone Fizzlewiff - The Gnome God of Protection

If necessity is the mother of invention, then its father is Rathbone Fizzlewiff. As a young gnome, Rathbone was more clever than his brothers and all the gnomes of Mother Hill. He was not the first to find the flame rubies, but he learned to harness their power and he used them to create wondrous inventions. He became a legend among his own kind and his workshop was a place of enchantment and mystery. Rathbone created great defenses to protect the gnomes of Mother Hill; traps and weapons that were more powerful than any seen before. The gnomes were well protected and they dwelt in peace and prosperity for centuries.

But all stories must take a turn. Bilwin, the youngest brother, was filled with jealousy over Rathbone’s fame. He made a blood-pact with The Dark Ones, promising half the hill’s riches if they would kill his brother and set him up as the king of Mother Hill. He told them the secrets which granted safe passage past the defenses. But The Dark Ones betrayed Bilwin. Once they were safely inside, they attacked the gnomes and enslaved them. Rathbone fought valiantly, but even he could not overcome The Dark Ones. He too, was taken prisoner.

When The Dark Ones reached the workshop, they found it was locked with a “puzzle-clock” and the solution was known only to Rathbone, himself. They tortured him to gain entry, pulling out his beard, then burning the soles of his feet with a branding iron, but Rathbone only laughed and sang:

Damn my beard and burn my soles Feed my liver to the trolls By the warts upon my chin I will never let you in!

The Dark Ones, enraged by Rathbone’s defiance, chopped his right arm off and threw him down the Widow’s Pit.

How Rathbone got out of the pit is another story for another time, but when he did emerge, a thousand years later, he was set to take his revenge. The Dark Ones had surrounded his workshop with black thorns, determined that if they could not have its treasures, then no one would. But Rathbone had a secret entrance unknown to any but himself. Once inside, he began working on his greatest invention - an arm made of enchanted gold, mined from the depths of Mother Hill. The arm was indestructible and when he struck the ground, the earth split and quaked. Rathbone fixed the arm to his side and burst from his workshop. The Dark Ones were no match for his rage or his golden arm. They fled Mother Hill, never to return. For his betrayal, Bilwin was made to take the Curse of Stone. His flesh was changed to rock and he was placed on top of Mother Hill, a silent sentinel, cursed to watch for signs of intruders for all eternity.

[mudlands]

From Renny, the kobold chef’s, personal journal. 

[mudlands]

The First Story

In the beginning, there was mud. And the mud-god was there. He shaped the mud into a world. The mud-god played with the world he had made but soon he grew tired of it. He threw it away into the sky and went to make something else. He made the dragons. Three were as big as the world. ONE was bigger. He had the three fight the ONE until the three were dead. He liked this game. Then he made the giants. Three were as strong as a hair from his beard. ONE was stronger. He had the three fight the ONE until the three were dead. He liked this game even more. Then he made the mud-born. They were smaller than the ONE dragon and the ONE giant. But they were many. He had the mud-born fight the dragon and the giant until the dragon and the giant were both dead. He laughed and clapped his hands. This was his favorite game of all.

He forgot all about the world he had made. But the sky did not forget. The sky did not like the world so she sent the sun to burn it up. But the mud did not burn. It got hard and dry in the heat of the sun. So the sky sent the rain to wash the world away. But the mud did not wash away. The rains filled the fingerprints the mud-god had left until vast oceans stretched across the world. So the sky sent the winds to blow the world away. But the mud did not blow away. Instead, mountains rose from the mud. Grass and trees sprang from the ground. The sky was angry but every time she tried to destroy the mud it only grew more beautiful. She was jealous because she was the most beautiful thing of all until the world had been made. What did the mud-god know about beauty? But she resolved not to involve herself with the world anymore for fear it would become more beautiful than her.

The mud-god loved the mud-born but there were so many, more than when he had started. They were eating all his food and drinking his wine. He was bored with them because they had stopped fighting and all they wanted to do was eat and drink. So the mud-god wanted to get rid of them. That’s when he saw the world. It was so beautiful, he didn’t recognize it. He thought a bird must have laid a beautiful egg. He put the mud-born on the egg, thinking that once it hatched they would be cast away. But that’s not what happened. The mud-born began to live in the world. Their numbers grew and grew. There wasn’t as much food or drink so they began to fight again. The mud-god liked this. Whenever they fought, he watched the world with great interest. When the mud-born died, they were placed in the ground and their bodies would turn back into mud. This pleased the mud-god and so he declared:  "From mud you were born and from mud you shall return." THE MUD TALES As recorded in the Book of Mud Translated by Vox Turnagune

[mudlands]

Why Does the Mud Burn?

The ONE dragon did not die. A dragon can never die, but you knew that already. He also wasn’t “as big as the world.” That would be impossible. Nothing is as big as the world, except the sky and the mud-god, of course. And he wasn’t made before the mud-born either. No, the ONE came after man walked the mud. Men called him “Blackburnt” but it was only a nickname. His real name was a secret known only to himself. The mud-god knew it once, of course, but he’s probably forgotten it by now. Blackburnt had fire in his veins. Black fire. It is said, he could roast a thousand men with a sigh. 10,000 just by sneezing. He made his lair among the greatest cities of men, but their names are all forgotten now. Today they are the dead towns—Ashgone, Charheap, Shadowsmoke, and Emberwash. Blackburnt would be there still, if not for the greatest hero of the mud-born, Ersh-Meer. How he killed the dragon and freed the world is another tale so don’t ask me for the details now. You wanted to know why the mud burns and that’s what I’m trying to tell you. When Blackburnt was killed, Ersh-Meer cut his head off and left his body on the mud. His black blood spilled from the wound and seeped into the mud. Well, you can pretty much figure out what happened next. The mud mingled with the blood into something new—a blacker, richer mud that ignites when you touch it with a flame. Now why it glows green is beyond my understanding. I only know that the old saying still rings true today; The blacker the mud, the stronger the flame!

THE MUD TALES As recorded in the Book of Mud Translated by Vox Turnagune

[mudlands]

How Ersh-Meer found the White Bowl

Ersh-Meer was watering his flowers one day when he saw a beautiful young maiden in a white dress climbing a Keeper Tree. He knew she was in great danger for the twisted limbs and thorns of the tree would wrap around her so tightly she would never be able to free herself. So Ersh-Meer dropped his watering can and ran as fast as he could, calling out to her, “Young maiden! Be careful! Climb down at once!” But when she saw Ersh-Meer running and shouting, she was frightened and began to climb higher. Sure enough, the limbs wrapped around her. The thorns clung to her dress. She was soon caught. Ersh-Meer knew it was useless going after her. He would only get caught in the tree as well. The young maiden began to cry. It was the most beautiful sound Ersh-Meer had ever heard. “Like the song of a bird in a cage,” he later remarked. Ersh-Meer fell in love and he knew he must free this maiden and make her his wife. He ran back to his shed and found his axe. Returning to the tree he began to chop. But the wood of the Keeper Tree is harder than stone and the axe shattered on the first strike. It was then that the Puddle Witch came walking by.

“Hullo Ersh-Meer!” She bubbled. “What are you doing with that broken axe?”

“I am trying to free a young maiden from the tree,” he replied.

The Puddle Witch laughed and it sounded like someone dropping pebbles on the roof of a house. “That will never do,” she croaked. “A Keeper Tree cannot be felled by an axe. You need strong magic.”

Ersh-Meer shuddered. He knew the Puddle Witch was more than capable of such a magic, but he wondered what she might want in return. She must have guessed his thoughts because she laughed again.

“Fear not, Ersh-Meer, I’m not here to trick you. In exchange for freeing the maiden, all I require is a new bowl with which to eat my soup.”

Ersh-Meer couldn’t believe his luck. “I’m happy to give you the finest bowl in my cupboard if you should set this beautiful maiden free!”

“Very well, Ersh-Meer,” the Puddle Witch said with a grin. She walked to the base of the Keeper Tree and began to whisper strange words in a language Ersh-Meer did not recognize. Immediately, the limbs snapped back and the young maiden was free. She climbed down the tree but the moment her foot touched the ground, she ran away as fast as she could. Ersh-Meer would have run after her but the Puddle Witch grabbed him by the arm. Her grip was surprisingly strong for one so old and feeble. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked him.

“You tricked me!” Ersh-Meer yelled back in anger. “She was supposed to be my wife!”

“You only asked me to free her,” said the witch. “I have kept my pact. Now you must keep yours.”

Ersh-Meer was furious. Then he remembered that in his pocket were seven sticky Sweet Figs. “Very well,” he said, “but before we go, may I first eat my lunch?”

Now the Puddle Witch loved sweet and sticky things. When she saw Ersh-Meer reach into his pocket and take out seven of the stickiest Sweet Figs she had ever seen, her mouth began to water.

“Ersh-Meer, you didn’t tell me you had Sweet Figs! Please, will you share one with an old lady?”

“Of course!” said Ersh-Meer, handing the Puddle Witch the largest and stickiest of the Sweet Figs. She popped it into her mouth and began to chew, but the Sweet Fig was so sticky her mouth was practically glued shut. It was in that moment when Ersh-Meer grabbed the Puddle Witch and threw her high in the air, right into the limbs of the Keeper Tree! The Puddle Witch tried to scream and howl but with the Sweet Fig sticking her mouth shut it was impossible. Ersh-Meer knew she’d never be able to escape the Keeper Tree unless she could mutter her secret words. He laughed and threw rocks at the Puddle Witch who thrashed and fidgeted as the limbs and thorns grew tighter around her. Soon it grew dark and Ersh-Meer got bored taunting the Puddle Witch. He walked home, laughing all the way about the poor woman with her jaws stuck together trapped in the Keeper Tree.

The next day, Ersh-Meer was watering his flowers again when he saw the beautiful maiden in the white dress pass by. This time she was walking through the forest gathering shaleing nuts. Ersh-Meer picked a bouquet of flowers from his garden and ran to meet her. This time she did not run away. He gave her the flowers and kissed her. She laughed and together they started to walk back to his small home. He was so taken by her beauty that he picked her up in his arms to carry her the rest of the way. It was then that the Puddle Witch appeared. She had spent all night picking Sweet Fig out of her teeth and now she wanted Ersh-Meer to pay for his trickery. She muttered more magic words and suddenly there was a flash of red light. When it was gone, so was the beautiful maiden from his arms. In her place was a hand-carved, white wooden bowl. The pattern etched into the side matched the embroidery of the maiden’s dress perfectly. The Puddle Witch gave a snort and vanished into the mist. Ersh-Meer never saw her again.

Ersh-Meer kept the bowl in his cupboard. He never used it and it was always kept empty. He wasn’t sure, but sometimes at night he swore he could hear a sound coming from the bowl. It was almost like it was crying. He thought it was the second most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “Like the song of a bird in a cage.” THE MUD TALES As recorded in the Book of Mud Translated by Vox Turnagune

[mudlands]

[mudlands]

[mudlands]

Aradynn and Murgus*

The world is very old. Some say as old as the mud-god himself. But the sky is older. She gave birth to the mud-god when she was lonely, but then the mud-god broke her heart when he created man. That is why he was banished to the world. The sky is called “Aradynn” though some call her “Storm Peak” or “The Queen of the Air.” The mud-god is called “Murgus.” The men worshiped Aradynn. They built temples without ceilings so they could see her beauty always. Aradynn loved the men and sent gentle rains on the mud-lands to help their crops to grow. The men were happy and all was peaceful in the world.

But Murgus was jealous of Aradynn. He wanted to be worshiped too, but nobody wanted to worship the mud. So Murgus made a creature from the mud. It was a black bear he named “Thirst.” The bear drank all the water from the lakes and streams and a great drought came over the mud-lands. The crops died and where there was no food, the people died too. The men stopped praying to Aradynn. They took mud, mixed it with brown grass and let it dry in the sun to make bricks. With the bricks, they built cities and temples with ugly roofs. Here they worshiped the god of mud and ugliness. They painted their bodies with the mud and dug great cisterns to hold water. They no longer looked up at the sky. THE MUD TALES  As recorded in the Book of Mud Translated by Vox Turnagune

*Translator's Note: This story dates as the final one included in the Mud Tales. The ink used in the original writing comes from the meermarsh plant (this is quite evident by the characteristic gold flecks present in the letters). This ink was not in use until well into the 3rd age. The other Mud Tales were written with soot inks, dating them to the 2nd age or earlier. Also, the obvious contradictions make it something of an anomaly. It is possible this story’s inclusion was a form of "revisionist sabotage" since the worship of Aradynn was more prominent during this time.

[mudlands]

Days of the Week

Ershday (Named for the greatest hero who ever lived. Tales and legends of Ersh-Meer are not limited to the Mud-Lands alone.)

Biggsday (Named for what the first people called the sun. "What is that?" "I don't know but it sure is big!")

Wiggsday (Named for what the first people called the moon. Actually, they called it "the moon" but they changed it to "wigg" so it would rhyme with "bigg." This was useful for poetry.)

Murgsday (Named for Murgus, the mud-god.)

Ashday (Named, out of respect, for the ONE dragon. Of course, nobody knows his real name.)

Notherday (Named this way because they ran out of things to name the days and they still had a 'nother day to name. I know, it's sad, but the first people weren't always the most creative.)

Araday (Named for the sky, Aradynn. They didn't want to give her a day but they knew if they didn't she'd never forgive them.)

Here's a song children sing to remember the days of the week:

Ershday first, he freed us all Biggsday bright and never small Wiggsday for the moon who wanes Murgsday mud flows through our veins Ashday for the ONE who burns Notherday another turns Araday, the sky is fare Give us rain, Queen of the Air!

The final lines are more often sung as follows:

Araday, the sky's not fair Hide your face and all beware!

[mudlands]