#willowisp sun

[journalerthecricket]

Forest Legend AU

Nell (she/her)

A child that lives near to the marshy forest where Sun and Moon live and often ‘gets lost’ and visits them

Lives with her dad, Cason

She didn’t actually see Moon (or Sun’s humanoid form) until after a couple visits when she begged them to let her see them so that she knew they were really real (even though she knew they were she was starting to have doubts when no one would believe her),

She gives them salt and helps them break into the house occasionally

She loves animals and tends to get along well with them

Keeps tons of random things in her pockets and sometimes gets little gifts from Sun and Moon (that they totally didn't steal)

(full name Sora Nell Wood)

[softagenda]

fortune's expensive smile (leander)

leander x reader(f)

first meeting / leander's pov

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Preview

“Now, who could use some good luck?”

Leander spun on his heel, surveying the tavern with a grin as his hounds cheered, slapped their hands on tables, jostling bottles and glasses, some leaning in and tugging at the end of his cloak to plead with him. He resolved to pick a recent client to further the good tides from good business when an unfamiliar face peered up from the crowd.

Once he’d met her gaze through the dust and dusk of the tavern, a strange charge had settled in the air. 

Luminous magic clung to his fingers, the lilies born of his magic curling toward her as real flowers might toward the warmth of the sun. The green light washed over her face, brushing away the shadows of her hood. Bright eyes peered back, embraced by thick lashes and a faint sense of wonder. Silken hair tumbled from the side of her neck and down her chest.

Leander felt his breath still for a moment, until he caught his stride and said, with a slow smile, “How about you?” He held them out to her, as a suitor might for a new love.

In all honesty, she likely could use some luck. 

Bruises beneath her eyes, mud slicked boots. A weight and slump to her stance, as though she had shouldered a heavy burden long enough to steel her spine and chip away at her soul. He breathed in the air around her, and beneath the smell of the bar that pressed against his senses like the misty fug on a brimming pint lay an unmistakable, acrid trace of magic. Old magic.

She hesitated for a moment. Then a slender hand reached from beneath her sleeve. Bandages wrapped every inch of her skin. His stomach lurched at the sight, an old ache echoing from inside him pricking a tenderness with pity and curiosity.

Her fingers touched the flowers. Instantly the magic faded. 

At her surprised look, he shrugged easily. “That’s the problem with flowers. They don’t last long, but they leave an impression, right?” He grinned, clapping his hands to diffuse the remnants of magic clinging to his hands. His willowisps drifted upward before dissipating, little more than twining spirals of dust beneath the light.

The stranger paused, her brow furrowed. 

Then a small but sweet smile spread over her face, softening her features and the edge of grief that dogged her steps.

Leander’s heart gave a sudden, strong thump against his ribs at the sight.

Well, hello there . 

______________

He watched the stranger from the corner of his eye, his curiosity growing. 

Her eyes seemed older than her appearance would suggest, perhaps hewn from a hard life or misfortune. At the same time, she stalled at even his gentlest of flirtations, as though unused to the idea or uncertain how to respond to them. She’s careful with her drink and her distance, drinking a tall glass of water and curling her shoulders away from him at the bar. Less so with her words.

Uttering the word Senobium in the Wet Wick had earned scores of men and monsters broken bones, cracked teeth, and a thousand pleas for mercy ignored. His hounds were better trained than most, but he knew that many nursed a grudge where the institute was concerned. He’d helped sort many of them himself. 

They’d calmed at his words, but he led her from the bar anyway, after finishing his beer to wash the sour taste from his mouth. 

Out in the alley, Leander turned and asked, in a low voice, “Kuras didn’t send you here for help with the Senobium, did he?” Though he had yet to pry the doctor’s pristine shell apart for the pearls within, he knew the other man well enough to know he’d never turn someone with a genuine need to the institute’s door. 

She glanced away, frowning. “He suggested I find an alternative.”

“Yet here you are, asking about them anyway,” he continued, folding his arms over his chest and appraising her. “What do you need the Senobium for?”

Her mouth tightened. Her reticence was obvious. 

The first thing that had clued him in to her recent arrival to Eridia was the openness of her expressions, how easily he could stare into her eyes and glean her thoughts. Well, that and her looks. He hadn’t lied - he couldn’t imagine ever forgetting a face as stunning as this.

“Well, I see you’re already aware of the city’s currency. Information’s worth its weight in gold here.” He gaged her expression once more before adding, “Kuras told you the truth. The Senobium’s dangerous. Get on their bad side and they’ll imprison you if you’re lucky, or torture you if you’re not.”

The image of a sulky, sneering fox broke through his thoughts in a vision of fiery red hair and black leather, before he shook it off.

Her face fell. “But the Senobium’s supposed to be a place of learning, a sanctuary…”

Leander grimaced. “That’s what they want you to think, but things that seem too good to be true are often just that.” If he felt a pinch of guilt at the words, he forced it deep down inside. Clearing his throat, he clapped his hands to dispel the bleak thoughts. “But as I always say: there’s a solution to every problem, and alternatives to every solution.”

She was watching him warily, her shoulders slumped. Clearly the hard truth about the Senobium had come as a low blow - he could only imagine the hard journey that had brought her all the way here, only to be told that the institute was a facade.

He smiled, eager to turn the mood around. “That’s why Kuras pointed you to the Bloodhounds.” He leaned his head to the side, glancing humorously at the posters plastered all along the alley way, his own face grinning back at them. “Let us help you. Whether it’s hunting Soulless, finding people, or recovering stolen valuables, we can do it all. And free of charge.” … at least, in terms of currency.

Even as he delivered his speech, she shook her head. Her hood fell back to her shoulders, exposing her hair to the gaze of the sun. His eyes followed the slow unfurling of a lock down her neck, teasingly slow as drizzled honey.

Her mien was far from sweet, though. “Listen, I appreciate the offer. But my problem can’t be solved by a group of good samaritans.”

Leander nodded, sorting through the information with quicksilver decisions. “Then your problem must be fairly serious. And if the Senobium’s your first choice… you’re searching for a magical solution, aren’t you?”

Her face once again gave her away, all wide eyes and slack jaw. 

He straightened, rolling his shoulders back and lifting his chin. “I’d be happy to help you out. That is, if you tell me what ails you.” 

She seemed torn for a long moment, her teeth biting the corner of her mouth as she stared hard at the cobblestones below their feet. Either she would confide in him, or she would seek her answers somewhere else. He would support her either way, though he’d prefer she take a chance on him and let down those stiffly high walls a bit.

He gave her room for her thoughts, taking his own time to allow his gaze to inspect her cloak, the dagger strapped to the curve of her hip, shapely legs that hinted of lith muscle. 

Then a whisper stole across the silence. “... I’m cursed.”

The admission seemed to cost her dearly. 

“Cursed?” he echoed, now inspecting her with a more clinical mindset. “Oh, now I’m very curious. Something ancestral or more recent?” 

“It’s your hands, isn’t it.”

Her immediate flinch was answer enough. She curled in on herself, her hands stowing away in her pockets, shame twisting the gentle eves of her face. His beautiful stranger forced herself to continue, short and hushed, “My touch is dangerous, it changes people, hurts them –” 

He tugged his glove off his right hand, stretching his fingers after their release from the sticky leather. An anticipation settled over him as he recalled that scent around her in the bar, that taste of magic that lingered on the back of his palette. 

“Let’s see it,” he coaxed easily, offering his hand as he cast his strongest protection spell over his body. Exceptionally few enchantments or curses would be able to break through this one - Vere had been gracious enough to test that for him several months ago. 

She balked immediately. “I can’t. Believe me, this isn’t an ordinary curse.”

And I’m no ordinary mage, beautiful . “I’ll be fine. Perhaps where you came from, your affliction was strange and one of a kind. But spend a year in this city, and you’ll see a thousand curses and thrice as many cures.” He frowned slightly as a thought occurred to him. “Do you really think Kuras would send you here if I couldn’t handle it?”

She shrugged. “How should I know? I only met him today.” 

Ah. Leander took a breath and calmed himself. He wasn’t used to this much resistance to his offers of help - and perhaps his and the good doctor’s notoriety had gone to his head in some ways. 

Still, he tipped his chin up with pride and said, “I’m as good as any mage in the Senobium. Better even. If they can help you, so can I.”  And he’d do it without a sanctimonious lecture to boot. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.” 

Her eyes watched him as though from a great distance. Leander recognized that look for what it was - a lifetime of suffering, enduring, loathing oneself to the point of desperation. He knew that feeling all too well.

The thought of freeing her from that hell was compelling. Dangerously so.

“I’m asking you to trust me,” he murmured. 

His stranger looked from his hand to his face, caught in between hope and fear. Leander smiled to set her at ease and waited patiently. 

With a barely audible sigh, she began to unravel the bandages from her hands. “Fine. But if you lose control, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Lose control ? Leander bit the inside of his cheek and replied, “You can tie me up first if it makes you feel better.” His face heated at the thought: strapped down on a bed, bared and open, at the mercy of a gorgeous stranger…. He’d certainly been in worse situations.

She ignored him, her face grim. Whatever she’d experienced as a result of this curse, she clearly wasn’t one to crack jokes about it.

He watched, fascinated, as each inch was revealed. 

Her skin flowed a murky gray from the tips of her fingers and up her arms, the color of summer storms or puddles of rain forming eddies on the street. More strange than that was the rivers of gold etched across her skin, forming gleaming branches across her wrist, hand, and fingers. Ebbing, seeping, as though flowing like veins under her skin.

He’d never seen anything quite like it.

His stranger lifted her hand above his.

“Ready when you are,” he said softly. She seemed liable to startle at any loud sound or sudden movement, like an animal toeing around a spring-loaded trap.

Scant inches hung between them now as she hesitated. Leander studied her expression, the sweat studding her brow, fear shadowing her eyes.

“Three… two… one…” she said, barely above a whisper.

Her fingers dipped down another inch. She hesitated just a hair away, even as he surged forward, his hand wrapping around hers.

The effect was instant.

A wave of magic broke across his shield, torrential, overwhelming. Leander braced himself against it, his smile falling in concentration as he fought against the invading presence. Something snaked around the edges of his senses, flowing over the surface of his magic as though searching for entry. She’d been afraid of this power - physically afraid, flinching even - to the point that he had expected pain at her touch, but this was - this was worse.

It was pleasure. 

Blistering, tingling, syrupy sweet. Whispering into the back of his mind, sultry as smoke, to touch. To consume . The power pushed at the hot blood inside him, sewing lust and temptation into his veins as though those same gold rivers across her hands now flooded into him. 

He’s hard as stone in his pants. His hands ache, as though the urge to touch her was a physical need . His gaze bored into hers, saliva pooling in his mouth, spell-bound by her quickly paling skin, her wide eyes, the bob of her throat.

He let his spell of protection weaken just slightly so that he could analyze the feeling, a shudder running down his back as the curse tried to push deeper. 

Leander had assumed it would be a fairly powerful curse. Otherwise, Kuras might have handled it himself. This was unexpected, though. Powerful. Old. Wild and beguiling and singing to primal instincts. Almost… ancient in nature.

“Leander?”

She’s tugging at her hand, trying to pull away - her words brush like a breeze across his mind. She’s closer than before - no, he’s closer than before, his arm rising without conscious thought. Her voice, trembling, terrified, broke the fog like the swift cracking of an egg. 

His magic barreled up from within him and bit back at the curse until the golden fog receded from his mind.

His stranger flinched away from his hand. “No, you’re - “ 

“Just fine,” he reassured her with a gentle smile, dropping his palm on her shoulder. “Interesting! That’s one hell of a curse.”

Her body trembled, at the precipice of fear that had quickly dissolved into a shaky relief. 

Bright eyes stared into his face, searching, so intense that he had to glance away when heat rose in his cheeks. His grip on her hand softened, just enough that she could move, and move she did. 

Gray fingers, surprisingly tender and achingly gentle, began to map out the lines of his palm, brushing along the curves of each finger, before tracing up his wrist and forearm. Her thumb smoothed across each fingernail and lingered at the pulse pumping fast beneath his wrist. So careful was she that Leander felt himself growing hyper aware of the feeling, her touch almost ticklish, drawing goosebumps across his skin.

There’s something like awe in her face, earnest and pure and wondrous - so opposite to the lustful thoughts circling the back of his mind that he felt like a wolf allowing a lamb to brush and play with his fur coat. 

He wanted to bite, a little.

He could still feel the electric hum of her power, each gossamer touch seeking to land a hook into his mind. Even at his strongest shield, it pressed fervently against his defenses, not enough to overtake and control him but enough that he could feel the insidious presence.

Little wonder that she kept her hands so tightly bound. He could see now, how a simple brush of her bare skin would drive a man completely mad. 

He watched as her hands travel curiously up his arm, fingertips dancing over the edge of his scar at the edge of his sleeve. Quicksilver eyes flicked up to his jaw, to the matching band across his cheek, before dropping once more to his skin. He’d feel like a lab specimen, except for the almost reverent way she touched him, as though this were a wholly new experience.

Leander paused at the thought before venturing to ask, “Am I the first person you’ve been able to touch like this?”

She froze. “...so far.”

Warmth settled in his stomach. He couldn’t deny that the thought was strangely satisfying, filling himself up with a heady, eager buzz like a stiff drink. “I’ll admit your touch does make it somewhat difficult to stay level-headed. But not due to your power… “ 

Leander grabbed her hand again and twined their fingers together, before drawing them up by his pin.  “Look, we match,” he joked softly, hoping to ease the tension. 

His stranger stared at their clasped hands before another shy, genuine smile appeared. His heart gave another insistent leap in his chest. 

When she drew her hand back, he felt the loss in the cold air seeping back over his palm, the sound of the busy street behind breaking into the quiet solemnity of the moment. She wrapped her hands absentmindedly, more habit than anything, and adds in a small voice, “I can’t believe that worked.”

Leander nearly offered his hand again immediately, possibly forever, but managed to hold on to his air of mystery and dignity. 

He offered her another slow smile. “You were right to hide this from me. That curse of yours… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever dealt with. I can tell you’re discreet, but you’d best not go showing that off to anyone else.” 

“I didn’t plan on it.”

“Are you staying in Lowtown?” At her shrug, Leander clapped his hands and guided her back to the Wet Whick with an open arm. “Let’s get you settled then. Bloodhound rates.” 

As she led the way back into the inn, the door opened with a flood of oak, sawdust, grease, and beer-stained air. Just beneath that was the delicate scent of her, herbs and leather, and that faint bite of magic. 

Leander paused on the threshold, his eyes lingering on her form as she glided swiftly through the tables, her hair tumbling down her back, candlelight dancing across her face. His pin sparked, his skin tingling where she’d touched him. His stomach seemed to hollow for a second.

He felt… strangely empty, hungry. Alive in a way he hadn’t been just hours before. 

Eridia never slept, never stalled - the city was always changing, always adapting. Mysterious strangers were a dime a dozen. 

And yet, this felt different. She felt different. 

Leander curled his hand into a fist, hoping to stretch out the prickling sensation, to no avail. It was as unsettling as it was addicting.

He wondered how he might convince her to touch him again. 

Soon.

___________________

a/n: thank you for reading!

[brrzoi]

A little sneak peek of my book, Call of the Midnight Sun as requested by the Portland polycule lolz

Some backstory on the setting, it's heavily inspired by Dungeons and Dragons, but not affiliated with them because they're super strict on copyright... hence me coming up with names for the races and such.

Chapter One

The soft notes of a lyre rippled through the morning mist, soothing the very wind herself. The lyrist, her calm, practiced fingers plucking the strings, was a full-figured Forest Elf. Her long, white hair was half pulled back, and her lilac optics were fixated on the delicate instrument. A small wrinkle of concentration dwelled between her brow.

"Wysteria." A raspy, yet soothing voice called. This eased her out of her trance.

"Tala!" Wysteria chirped. Talamina, a cave elf who was but a few inches taller than Wys, is her lover. The two had been together for about a decade at this point, which would be shorter than you'd expect from the elves' perspective, whose race typically lives well beyond a few centuries.

"We're heading out, my love." Tala grinned, placing her hand on the small of Wys' back as the pale elf stood.

The lackluster shell of a temporary camp, nestled comfortably beside an ever-scintillating river, was home to a sizeable party of seven for a day and a half. However cozy the camp was, it was time to move on.

Frojyen, a wise old halfling monk, performed a quick head count.

Wysteria and Talamina, the two elves,

Valthen, a bubbly Drax, who was Wysteria's adoptive sister,

Mog, a woman born into Orc royalty,

Esvin, a spindly human boy who incidentally found himself a 'folk hero' of sorts from sheer unluckiness,

and finally Chickadee, a fairy who was Esvin's childhood friend.

Along with them was a trio of stray dogs who followed wherever the group wandered, whose names were whatever one came up with when feeding scraps to the poorly mutts. Two mules and Wys' trusty white horse completed the group.

Speaking of, Wys approached the horse with grace, hands outstretched. "Willowisp." She mewled kindly as the pale horse sputtered, leaning her gigantic head into her beloved owner's shoulder.

Willowisp was some kind of cob, not entirely fullblood but not entirely a mutt. Nonetheless, the white horse was beloved by everyone in the party, even grumpy old Frojyen.

"She's reliable." He'd say simply, though the sparkle in his eye was undeniable.

The mules, Abner and Matilda, were more there to carry extra things, the occasional foal coming in handy to sell when money was tight. With the mules packed, the party set on their way.

End chap. 1

Some things I feel I need to clarify!

- Yes, in reality mules are typically sterile/infertile, however in my book they can breed and have foals. They are their own species rather than being the offspring of a horse and a donkey.

- My elves have tails! Tala and Wys have long, tufted tails styled to each of their likings :) They're sorta like hairless lion tails except for the tip if that makes sense?

- I'm open to constructive criticism as long as it isn't too harsh, I am pretty sensitive ;(

- This is my first book I'm committed to! I plan to publish it in the future :0

AND HERE'S THE COVER! The edges and the title would be metallic gold :)

EDIT: Sorry for the weird spacing, blame tumblr. Alsooo PLEASE feel free to use my ask box to ask about my book!! I'd LOVE LOVE LOVE to answer any questions!

[aurantia-ignis]

Happy 20th Anniversary to Golden Sun! This game was a very, very huge part of my childhood, and even now, it still holds a special place in my heart  Still dreaming of a remake of the first two games from Camelot one day!!

Notes under cut:

When I started brainstorming this, I knew I wanted to set it in Venus Lighthouse, the final dungeon for the first game and one of my favourite locations in Weyard. The lighthouse aerie was the obvious pick since the final battle happens there, but I... wasn’t sure if I wanted to draw the Fusion Dragon HAHAHAHA. Besides, it’d be fun to have multiple enemies for the team to face.

So I selected one of the puzzle rooms, with the iconic ‘shove the pillar down so the sparky spark from the statue can go through and open the door’ thing. I had to take a lot of creative liberties, though; there’s only so much you can extract from the pixels of a GBA game TTwTT 

I chose the Grand Golem and the Willowisps to use as enemies. Originally I’d wanted to use the Wild Gryphon, but the size of it with outstretched wings would take up too much room, taking focus away from Procne (which was the summon I knew I wanted to include). So I picked the Grand Golem.... and nearly regretted it because holy hell the thing is BRIGHT FUCHSIA....... 8′D I turned down the saturation a few notches in the end.

The djinn and Procne! I’ve always really, really loved the concept of djinn, with the set, standby, and summon options. Set will allow your folks to receive the stat boosts of their djinn, but standby allows you to prepare them for summoning... And not to mention, the class changes from those that give you different psynergy! I definitely wanted to portray that in my art. The third Jupiter djinn Ivan is calling to summon Procne ended up kind of hidden behind in the wind though SOBS. 

Onto the main cast! I decided from the beginning that I didn’t want to give them their official art weapons because A) Garet and Isaac’s swords are sheathed anyway and B) It’d be cooler if I could give them actual in-game weapons! However, there was the problem of ‘all you got for references are the low-rest pixel icons’...

With Isaac, of course the choice is the Gaia Blade. This sword has a noticeably unique shape to the blade, but otherwise looks ordinary in the icon. I drew reference from the Dark Dawn model, as well as the Titan Blade unleash, for slight designs and the gold colour =D 

For Ivan, I probably could have gone with a staff, but I wanted to give him a light blade because swords are just cool. So he’s using the Kikuichimonji, referenced both from the icon and the Dark Dawn model (which has a blue-ish blade).

With two of the best swords taken, the question was Garet. But I think I always liked the idea of him using a cursed weapon, since he’d very much be the kind to go ‘OH LOOK A COOL LOOKING WEAPON’ and pick it up and then realise it’s glued to him forever HAHAHA. So I gave him the Demon Axe. Just imagine he has the cleric’s ring under his glove! 

Mia was given the Crystal Rod, which is admittedly not really a weapon I’d have given her for endgame. But the other weapons for consideration, Blessed Mace and Righteous Mace, I couldn’t get references for :’( also i just really like staves/rods because they pretty In the end I picked the rod because it also appears in Dark Dawn.

That’s all for the ramblings of an overly obsessed artist/gamer. Thank you for reading!

[skyleafcreations]

It’s all Merida all weekend @niagarafallscomiccon Friday- Casual/Modern Merida , Sat - Reg Merida, Sunday- Rock n Roll Merida. You can find me at the Cosplay for a Cure booth all weekend or running the costume contest. Say hi if your there! Leslie will also be here Sat and Sun as Cinderella and Maybe one other??? #canadian #canadiancosplayer #sewing #crafting #skyleafcreations #nfcc19 #disney #ain’tnoprettyprincess #niagarafallscomiccon #merida #dunbrochclan #mashups #DunBrochTartan #willowisps https://www.instagram.com/p/ByZSpk_DhCf/?igshid=12pfsmaaov8ep

[riddles-of-the-unknown]

* Notes: Give Them Names

 Ren is amazing at catching pillows~

Food

o   Seems familiar

o   Eggs, ham, bacon

o   Coffee

Plane Temporal passage

o   People age here

o   But not the way that we think of it

o   People don’t age backwards

o   Not days

o   But people don’t catalogue years here (?)

o   Be at this place here at this time.

§  ‘whenever’

o   Arrives back alive

Some planes

o   Time moves faster there than it does here, or maybe even slower

o   Week in some other place

o   ‘Years’ in another

o   How intriguing~

o   Lafi wonders about coming back to our home plane and centuries have gone by.

Teleportation

o   May also be the case~

o   Sometimes you come back earlier~

Lafi

o   Feels this is too existential

o   “My mind wasn’t meant for this”

§  Unfortunate~ I think it’s fascinating.

Bell

o   “Time means nothing, nothing matters.” – Lafi

o   Apparently NOT measurements of time.

UST

o   Universal Sigil Time

o   Measurement of time.

o   Can apparently

 Fey Plane

o   Regularly ‘popular’

o   Talk to a guard

o   Tell them where they’re going

o   Give them return slips

o   Give a piece of paper (special kind of paper)

o   People don’t come back from there that often

§  Lafi is good at not getting lost, and speaking fairy language

o   Never been there

o   Fey folk like to play games, and everyone they see and meet are players in their games

§  They like Riddles~

§  If you get them wrong, they’ll eat your liver (or something)

§  Excellent~

o   Lafi thinks that running headlong into things has served well so far

Death Planes

o   They exist~

Barovia

o   Apparently a death plane

o   Other death planes

§  Ren thinks ‘Barovia’ sounds mundane

o   Vampires come from there (according to people who’ve been there)

o   Research this before going.

o   First hand account / plane guide

Heading towards the outer ring of sigil

o   Portals are there

o   Go opposite the giant hole

Various entities with tentacles~

o   Not what I was hoping for though.

Silvery slivers cut into the fabric of reality

Lot of foot traffic

Portals are always guarded.

Lesser portals have less guards

Larger have more

Signs

o   Fire

o   Water

o   Earth

o   Nature

o   Air

Big glowing red portal

o   Either side has the symbol of fire

o   A number of them

Very large green portal

o   Many on either side

o   Feylands

§  Green and orange

§  Sliver in reality.

Lone guard

o   Satyr?

Dawnward

o   Not Duskward

o   Towards the Sun

o   Seelie will probably help you more than the Unseelie

Saint

o   Guard knows Saint

o   Of course he does

Everything around us spins

Everything goes dark

Green swirling light

Lush, green landscape

o   Bright orange sky

o   One direction is deep purple, other direction is orange.

o   Trees surrounding

o   Barely see the canopy

o   Vines twining around the trees looking almost like veins

o   Animals, life, can certainly hear a lot

o   Area smells like freshly cut grass

o   What a world may look like if there were never mortals trying to shape it

Lafi says to trust her.

We set off towards the Dawn

Path that we follow

No movement in the sky

o   Time is passing merely by us moving

Laughter heard, but nothing seen.

Very large silvery stag in our path

o   Lafi and I bow

o   Bran waves

o   Ren does nothing

o   It stomps its feet a few times and leaves

o   Lafi follows for a time

Laughter still heard.

Sign..?

Know we aren’t lost

Bran plays the forest a song

o   Hear the sound of laughter

o   Feel heat around us dancing

o   Glimmering trails of fire around us

o   Steady beat of drums picking up

Girls dancing around us

o   Giggling and laughing and having fun

o   Two more playing instruments

Girl speaks to Lafi

They climb up on us

They seem really excited

 Lafi talks to them

o   And isn’t telling us what they say.

o   (The Glamoury keeps it hidden, unless you know)

Cristianalanananthelianinth the 12

Chris (Crys?  Kris?  Krys?)

She’s going to be telling everyone that she was given a name

She wants us to give all these creatures names.

They seem pleased~

She names us too.

Nose (Mouth)

o   Me

Bran

o   Mouth (Nose)

Ren

o   Pouty

Lafi

o   Dog

Saint

o   Saint

The court

Le’soth

10 foot tall pixie with a large club

o   M’aam

Ashatona

o   Nearby village

o   The magic glamour

o   You feel that something exists, you feel it will be

o   Consumed by the forest

§  Mortals shouldn’t just walk around

o   Never heard of a Lich

§  Nothing dies here

Houses of all different sizes

o   Human size

o   Some tall as a tree

o   Some chipmonk holes

o   Seeing it makes you believe in it more

o   Fey creatures start to populate the area

o   Ents

o   Pixies

o   Nymphs

o   Little Market

o   Dryads

o   Satyrs

§  Relatively tall, hairy, goat legs, goat + human faces, large curving horns

o   Seems nice~

Gnome wander by

 Ent

o   Name is Beard

Returns with a Satyr

o   Clocksworth

 Lur’othose

o   Seelie court holds

o   Oboron in his court

o   Just an armoror (Trixly)

Ashatona might know

 Center of the town

o   Nothing there

o   Pet mortals to come speak with us

Unseelie

o   Need protecting from them.

Earth splits open

o   Like a giant mouth

o   ‘Good morning child’

o   Been a while since she’s tasted mortals

o   Has already

o   A deal must be made if you wish to go to Lur’othose

Warding stones have been destroyed

Not held to the truce that we are

o   “You might be able to defend us where we cannot.”

o   “There is a truce between the Seelie and Unseelie courts.”

o   They can’t defend themselves

§  Don’t know why they can be attacked.

o   A promise is a promise and may not be broken

§  Unseelie have somehow managed to break the truce without breaking it.

o   Can set up wards around the town with the magic learned from Liel

§  “If you do this, I may show you the way to Lur’othose.”

§  I say ‘I can do what I can.’

o   2 more hours for the dusk ward to come down

o   Then will be able to empower their rune stones.

o   When it is dawn time

Seelie don’t try to worm their way out of deals

o   Unseelie apparently do.

Chris has never seen a fight before.

o   Thinks it will be quite exciting~

o   Then the ward goes down, there may be a fight.

o   I will be setting up the wardstones when the wards are down.

She promises to stay out of fights.

[lots of notes about the town]

Shimmer in the sky

o   Dusk

Flaming horse

Wolves with frost aura

o   Slobber turns into mist

Two little blue orbs

o   willowisps

Nightmare rears up, wolves