The Fookin' Monkey of Ravenscraig!

[18:54]  Ashes sighs, the night air, the calm of the street, and... a monkey....
[18:54]  Ashes stares.
[18:54]  Ailbe Crann chimes in with a grin, "Oh, and expensive as rain in the desert iffn ye get the right kinds! Tis a good profession. Requiring skill, discipline and hours of practice. Definately nae fer me."
[18:55]  ZOOBY EMPEROR TAMARIN MONKEY: Pet me, Rayne Oconnell!
[18:56]  Ashes screams and tries to beat off the monkey!!!
[18:56]  Ashes WHAT WHAT!!!
[18:56]  Draken (kraden.roecastle): looking over to thwe man and nodding hsi head. "Oh yes. Very much so..." But as Ashes mentioned a monkey Draken tilted his head to the side but as it ran over the pitbull beegan to wander over owards it sniffing at the little thing thinkign it might be food.
[18:56]  Draken (kraden.roecastle): (((O.O))
[18:56]  Ashes kicks at it, snarling and bakcing away
[18:56]  Draken (kraden.roecastle): ((ashes. REword that))
[18:56]  Nyt (420nyts) blinks as the critter that has been following him for most the days jolts off, he blinks to the sudden scream and turns around to see what teh commosion is about.
[18:57]  Ashes screams again, and kicks once more!!
[18:57]  420Nyts Resident OOC: XD wow that was funny
[18:57]  Ashes runs off, screaming
[18:57]  Ailbe Crann leans over and looks at her screaming and starts to laugh, "Look out! Tis cute and harmless! Almost as frightening as Draken here!"

[ ((4 collisions with monkey))

[18:57]  Ashes continues to scream and run away from the village

((16 more collisons))

[19:00]  Ashes screams as she holds it under the water

[19:01]  Ashes keeps screaming!!!!

[19:01]  Nyt (420nyts) blinks "ASHES...."

[19:01]  Nyt (420nyts) dives in to save the furry thing.

[19:01]  Ashes: GET IT OFF!! GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!

((another collision))

[19:02]  Ashes continues to scream and scream, the water red with blood from her arms where the drowning monkey was held

[19:02]  Ashes: get it offff off!!

[19:03]  Nyt (420nyts) snares the monkey from her grip and goes to shore, quickly he examines the splint on its harm as he tries to calm in. His gaze strays to Ashes and blinks. "Its not on ya...."

[19:03]  Ashes: You will now speak in Lycan when using your personal in-character channel.

[19:03]  Ashes scrubs at her arms and chest and belly, screaming and crying the whole time!!

[19:05]  Nyt (420nyts) watches the woman overreact to a freindly creature. He blinks and is forced to scream to grab her attention. "Ashes! Ya are fine! She is gone now!"

[19:06]  Ashes pants, her whole body shaking, her surprise and fear were so severe, she didn't even revert to being a wolf.... she just stands in the water, soaking, matted hair, and blood in the water

Little Tokyo, Journal from a Human - as told by Patriciann Heron

Patty Heron's Little Tokyo Journal 5/5/08

I think I am on the brink of a breakthrough. Its just a few more pieces of the puzzle I have to put together. I tape recorded a conversation taking place in a garage- the tin roof resonated perfectly with their conversation, allowing me to pick it up. And interesting it was, indeed.

I need to do some research. What do the words "kindred" and "kine" mean? What are they talking about when they refer to a second "sign" in the horoscope? What are "clans" and "families?"

How can a woman who is just over 20 years old have a life that has been hectic for 3 decades? What is a "common clan" and an "uncommon clan?" I have a feeling these things are not referring to scottish or irish heritages, and that THIS is part of the great secret society of sorts that has been hidden from me. A Stepford Wives come to life, of sorts.

Then there is my other source, a very reluctant one at that, filled with dire warnings and all manner of ill portents. I have to finish acquiring that translation from the university professor- It should be ready to pick up any day now.

5/6/08 Yeah, something is definitely up. I have not yet been able to get the translation, and I still need to do research on these new terms. And check this out- I was passing by that dirty little bar owned by that louse, "Canis," or as Eath called him, "Crazy Nellie," and this guy in the bar just DISAPPEARS before my eyes. I would not have believed it had I not seen it! He disappeared in a red spray of some liquid. I was not about to stick around and find out what it was, but no doubt its tied up with this clan thing, whatever THAT is....

Morg in the wine shop said she had to go get a "rare vintage" from the cellar for Derrial. I left there and started down the street and bumped into the book shop owner, Derrial, and asked if he could assist me again with book research. He said he had to pick up some "supplies." Yeah, supplies my ass! Since when is a rare vintage wine referred to as "supplies" ??? Seems like this whole damned town is involved in this scenario- I must be EXTREMELY careful whom I speak to and what I say. Perhaps that also means not being so conspicuous with my stories, so this business review deal seems to be a good cover for finding out whats *really* going on.

And as for Gabe, well, he *seems* nice and charming and all that, but looks can be deceiving. If he is part of this "clan" secret society thing, I have to be careful- for all that matters, I have no idea who may or may not be a part of this cult. They seem extremely secretive, only divulging little bits and pieces of knowledge amongst one another in private ( or seemingly so) locations. I wonder if they have a private meeting place, like the KKK or something. Maybe I should check out that Pet Store again....

5/7/08 The crap has really hit the fan today folks.... I found out what this secret society is- they are VAMPIRES! They are evidently "siring" people and getting them addicted to a substance known as vitae, which seems to be a form of blood, thus ensuring control over them. Its absolutely insideous! And because this thing is a form of addiction, there's no telling who in this town they have added to this sick, depraved, society of sycophants! They have murdered innocents to keep this cover up covered- Holy Vladimir Putin, Batman!

I had a talk with my informant, and he tells me that a "clan" is a bloodline or family of vampires- makes sense according to the conversation I recorded between Nix and Lyon. "Kindred" seems to be brotherhood (probably of vamipres) and I have no idea still what "kine" means. From now on I am going to have to be very, VERY careful about whom I talk to and what I say. The following people so far my informant and I have been able to identify as being either vampires themselves or compromised: someone named Jeri, who wears glasses with one red lens, one blue and runs the garage (more about this later); Sab, the deupty marshall of the town; a strange woman named Pennyangel who dresses in all black; Morgdah, a woman of bleached skin who runs the "wine shop" north of town ( more on this later); Gabriel Montagne, owner of the art museum, at 30-35 years of age who has a "daughter" Willow, who appears no older than 25 (shyeah, right!); the owner of a bookstore, a man named Derrius who uses an ornamental cane (more on this later); Nix, short for Phoenix, a dancer at Canis' south side bar and sometimes dancer at Club Inferno; and Lyon, some guy Nix was talking to; also a man named Decon, with dark hair. Hell, for all I know the entire freakin town is vamped! Its pretty empty during the day....

OK, I have positively identified Jeri as the woman who was in combat with the spider thing- the glasses gave her away. I chased her through town once after that fateful night and finally cornered her in a back alley. I successfully fooled her into thinking I was only worried about her safety- and tried to gain her trust by not taking any pictures and just basically being non-threatening. She left me alone and I think she has decided not to bother with me anymore.

See the paragraph above dated 5/6/8 for the story with Morgdah and Derrial. I will bet you dollars to doughnuts that the wine shop is a cover for.... a blood manufacturing operation. The vitae. AND, if they have blood being made there..... THAT must mean that there are captives.... human captives somewhere down there who need help. Bruce Lee, where are you ???? Hmmm. Unless the hospital is somehow involved in a blood restocking operation, which would not surprise me in the least. What am I to do? This is a difficult ethical dilemma I find myself in.

I am going to start making mental notes on who is around and available during daylight hours and who is not. AND, I need to contact this priest, Father Mikhail. If he is from the Vatican and he is involved in vampire hunting, he is going to need to know the score, if I should decide to go the route of destroying this conspiracy with the nuclear option. I should probably dress up in a way that disguises myself if I decide to meet him.

I am also going to send all my materials and evidence I have gathered so far, including a copy of this journal and half the slime that was left at the scene of the monster attack along with the plaster casts I made of the monsters claw prints, to a safe place, to be opened in the event of my untimely death.

And now, for a last entry for today... I told Gabriel during my interview that I wanted to serve him.... And knowing what he is now, I have to make a choice. I had previously told Aurah, that I wanted to be like her, young and beautiful... wait a minute... I have never seen Aurah during the day- add her to the list- Aurah Washborne, owner of the Washborne hotel. I would be willing to bet that her secretive partner, Wynter Paine is part of the conspiracy, too. Anyhow, I have to make a choice now- whether I want to work to bring this thing to an end here, or join them and fulfill my wish of being young and beautiful, always, embracing this strange society and this "Twin Peaks" town of weird secrets. Now that I know what the score is, I no longer am attracted by discovering the unknown for its own sake. I think if I revealed what I knew, they would view it as a threat, so need to be wise and slow in making my choice. One choice is irreversible, with the addiction, the other is not until the plan is set in motion. I will defer for now to the side of patience.

A Christmas Fable as told by David Itamae

First I would like to address the fact that this is not a story you will find in an email. Nor will you find it in any book. This was something I in fact created to try and teach my nieces and nephew a meaning in the gifts which they receive. I personally sign my true name in this tale as a way to show that indeed it’s real and if you ask anyone that knows me personally you will know I had done so by the reactions I got from it all.
Sincerely
Douglas Rodgers.

Late October I decided that gifts this year would mean more than a simple wrapping and giving of some random object that held little memory or sentimental value. Instead I wanted something to show that I as an uncle wanted to do more than what is required of me. This of course is very tough considering that I’m a man of few well thought ideas.
I studied long in the nights of the perfect gag gifts. Thinking long and hard I came up with a jar of pickles, or old candy that was for Halloween. Still I did not believe that the gifts were adequate enough for such a gag so I did what any man in my position would do. I slept on it. Waiting until the time came for me to have that enlightenment that would simply say aha.

Days passed and Halloween had come and gone. It was now the month of November and still I had no idea for the perfect gift. That is until I had me a nice big bowl of glorious, wondrous, delicious Cereal. Taking big huge bites from the oversized spoon I dove into the Trix like it was my hearty serving of fruits and vegetables. Looking down I finally realized that my idea was a mere spoonful away.
Talking to one of my friends we sat in her car while I explained my idea. As she laughed at the notion I gave her the secret to my plan. She asked me what the entire plan was for to which I happily explained “You’ll See.” Stepping out her car I went into the house and looked for my nieces and nephew. I sat them on a couch asking them what is their favorite kind of cereal.
I went first to my oldest niece who was looking at me with a big smile and an inquisitive look told me that her favorite was Frosted Mini Wheat’s. Clapping my hands together I went on to my other niece whom replied unsurely Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Thinking that all three liked Kellogg’s I believed that a sale would come up for a three in one deal so I could save a few dollars. So I looked for my nephew whom was not home at the time.
When I was finally able to get to him it was a few days later. I knew that he enjoyed cereal randomly so that his taste buds changed much like his underwear. Being a four year old meant that a lot of clothes had to be put on standby in case of the lovely emergencies that arose. So there he was sitting next to my mother in the living room watching television.
So I walk up to them and ask what cereal my nephew so happily enjoyed. My mother being the lady that she was asked me why, I told her it was for his gift at Christmas time. She gave me a puzzled look and would continue to stare as I asked the same question over again. Finally he answered and had said Honey Combs. With the final answer I went back into my room smiling to myself as I had all the information I needed.
The next few weeks I went about telling everyone their gifts in which I received some of the most dirty looks on the planet. Mind you that every time I say I will do something unless something goes wrong I do it. This made me believe even further that this idea would work. Judging by the adults around me I knew that most had lost the idea of simplicity in a gift.
Soon I would receive responses rather than looks as to my gift choice idea. My mother being the first to say anything would say. “Why not just get them a bag of coal for Christmas?” Followed by “that is one of the dumbest gifts I ever heard.” Shrugging off her lack of understanding I continued to press the idea of cereal. Yummy! Yummy! in my Tummy!
Other people were not as worried as they thought me as an idiot and said so. One went as far as to say “If you were my uncle I would throw the box of cereal in your face.” Continuing to ask him his opinion I gathered that he felt it was very mean to a child to do something like that. Well perhaps in a way it was. However my plans would not change not even in the slightest.
Children as I saw were both trying to be both optimistic about such a gift and listen to the adults lack of favor toward my presents. So each day it was a good mix of both good and bad chatter among them. Soon I thought that perhaps they would lose the focus on the gift and think only with games and toys. That is how it began to look.
The days wore on and trouble had brewed up from the unlikely cutting of hours at work. This coupled with a sudden loss of money from one of my few mile strolls through the city. Stomping feet and cursing the winds for my horrible luck I tried as I could to find the cash I needed to ensure bills were paid and that gifts were bought. Can you smell the loss of cereal in the horizon?
Soon it came down to the wire. It was the day before Christmas and I was almost about to pace myself to death. No money and a hopeful gleam in my eye for a check that was to come a bit early. Waiting for the call from my relatives home for my checks arrival I had simple kept thinking of the money I had lost. Still I would not yield to my plan.
So the check had come at long last and I was able to cash it with little to no problem. I searched the store for the cereals to find them both expensive and out of two of the three I had needed. So in another mood I went out the store in search of place that I knew would have them in plentiful supply. Hooray one time for Wal-Mart.
Gathering the boxes I went into the check out seeing the long line almost through every isle in the store. People had come in the truck loads it seemed as I waited there. People laughed and asked how I would wait in line so long for three boxes of cereal. To which I replied “these are gifts for kids as they provide 9-11 vitamins and minerals, giving them enough calcium for strong bones.” It had seemed as though I was a spokesman for children’s growth and development. On the contrary I was just an uncle with little sense to do little else for a gag gift.
So that night I had wrapped the presents with help from friends as my gift wrapping skills are about as good as Billy Bob Thorton playing a “Nice” Santa. I had just come back from going to a Mass Service when we began to wrap the presents. After two hours. Yes I did say two hours the gifts were tagged and ready.  I rested a little while before it was time to take the presents to my sister whom had confidence the children would like their gifts. She said: “after all they are kids, and what kid don’t like cereal?”
Time came and I had to leave to visit another family before I would be able to come back and give the kids their delightful treat.. So off I went and returned home several hours later after everyone was worn out from the dinner and gift getting. Taking the boxes I threw them at each kid calling them by name. With rolled eyes from the adults I watched as the kids opened the box of cereal.
Oh the joy in their eyes as they tore through the paper revealing characters from their favorite breakfast food. This was my moment as I smiled back to them hoping that I would get a reaction like that at least. For in my head I had thought of the other possibility they would not like the gift I had gotten them even though I knew that I had told them before hand what it was.
So I asked them a question a rather simple one. Only if they accepted and liked the gifts as they were? With good nods and big wide smiles I saw a unanimous yes ring into my ears. As soon as they had the box and set them down, I immediately told them open the bottom flap of each box. Inside looking back all folded nice and neat was a 20 dollar bill.
To everyone’s surprise I got an even bigger smile saying that it was the best present they had gotten. Even the snotty adults had a look that was both in awe and surprise. I told them all that there is a moral to the story and that Christmas was more than just a winter holiday of gifts and shopping malls. So to them all I gave the thoughts behind my gift.
1)    With it being Christmas we are celebrating the birth of Christ. That in some faiths would be the one who would give his life for the sins of the world. It was told in the Bible of his coming much like the box in their hands.
2)    That it is not the outside we look at but rather it’s what is on the inside that counts the most. This is true with everyone we meet to the very foods we eat.
3)    Lastly to be like the smiling child that is pleased with even the simplest gestures as opposed to adults that lose sight of creativity and imagination.

I have no real idea if any of this would even sink in. I do know that from now on they would remember the gift of cereal and the money that went into it. Hopefully as they grow up they will think more like they had done so that day and continue a tradition of creativity. This while teaching the finer points in life to their children. Maybe I will see this. Perhaps I will not. Either way I can only say I gave a good effort on what I thought was fun.

The Bard's Song as told by David Itamae

          
In the distant horizon a young woman faces the dawn with staring blankly for the return of her loved one. It had been many moons since she last recalled his face his eyes as he looked upon her with compassion and love. The words of his voice ringing in her ears like a sweet melody. Oh yes she had missed the moments in which she could dance the night away, leaving behind all the stresses of the world.
Those days had long been gone for her now. The music that played was the howling winds bringing with it a bitter chill. Her soft hands clutching her bosom holding close something both dear and precious. She continued staring out into the morning light breathing softly as she shut her eyes holding ever tighter that dream of one day being reunited. As she leans her head forward she drifts off into a dream. A dream takes her far away from the cold dreary air.
Music played softly as the people cheered in a local tavern. Their eyes focused on the barkeep behind the counter as she made some fresh ale for them to drink. Her face was like that of angels as the beauty radiated off her like a summer day. Her eyes held fast the men as they tried desperately to focus on her other qualities. However her will held them at bay and none made a wrong move against her.
She dressed casually for her being of a greater wealth. Her tavern was also of a modest build. It was a simple place that everyone could enjoy. The stage was set of a fine redwood that set it apart from the rest of the structure for it had to hold some rather unusual guest who often appeared different times of the year. It was a talk of the town for all who entered were amazed at the very hospitality.
However even as much as she enjoyed the lifestyles of her modest dwelling a fire burned within her that could not be quenched from serving ale. In her heart she enjoyed much more than what the city had to offer. She would often feel so compelled to leave that she would not return for days at a time. This often would lead to more than one search party hoping not to find a gruesome discovery in the woods.
One night in particular she had made her way out the back door of her tavern and headed out to the wood line. As she swept passed the brush and the thick trees she stopped suddenly. A look of fright came over her as a wild beast approached from the shadows. As she gathered her wits about her she smiled softly to the beast and instead of panic she began to sing.
Her voice began low and soft picking up slightly as she carried on to the next note. She locked the gaze upon the beast whom was now enchanted by her voice. She raised her arms and danced sweetly among the trees. Not a crackle was heard as the ground itself had made no move to stop her lullaby. Again picking up her voice she neared closer to the beast letting it smell and touch her.
The beast was unmoving. The song he heard was sweeter than any honey or fruit he had ever tasted. Wishing not to disturb the song the beast moved back slowly feeling the ground hoping to not make a sound. Feeling less afraid the animal halted his retreat. Lowering his head he allowed the lady to touch his fur softly. When she finished the song the beast sped away swiftly never again wishing to harm the woman or her song.
Resuming her getaway the woman sped faster along the trotted path now visible in the moonlight. Fearing that the men of the town would steal her back to the tavern she moved even quicker. Stepping over roots she finally made it out of the forest where a carriage was already in wait for her appearance. Getting into the carriage she could feel as if something was watching her. Something she could not quite figure out.
Indeed there was another watching her. His eyes moved along as quickly as she could run. His ears heard the music and immediately he set himself to find its origin. Knowing that anytime he could catch her he refrained instead he wished only to her hear song and finish what she started. Now that she was away he would go and find out more about her. So in the darkness he flew avoiding the scene of being caught by the songstress.
She arrived in another town far away from her tavern and security of all she knew.  Her smile pierced the crowd as she headed straight for the stage which was set directly in the middle of the town square. Stepping up on the podium she began to move her hips side to side hoping to gain attention from the strangers she was surrounded by. She danced with passion upon the stage and when it was over a great cheer erupted.
Bowing low to them in response she began to recite a tale she wrote a few nights prior. The tale was more a poet’s song than story, still it did not matter. The crowd seeing her had already stopped everything and focused their attention on her alone. She graced them with a few selections from her favorite readings then quickly as she came she was gone once more.
Having the rush of the crowd she moved past them darting fast into an alley where she disappeared from the crowd of people. However not all eyes had her quickly vanish. Instead he merely watched as she pranced and giggled from the sensation of applause. Looking at her long black hair flowing in the wind he swooped down from his high perch to see the rest of the city.
The following day she came once again to the high podium to begin as she did the day before reciting tales of high adventure and romance. With each pause she could hear the whispers of the people cheer and boo as each character was introduced. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath reciting the last part when suddenly a man began to raise his voice past hers.
Her eyes snapped open as she quickly turned her head to face in the direction of the scene stealer. She became enraged at the very thought that someone had the audacity to upstage her in the middle of a story. Picking her voice higher she echoed past the man whom she still hadn’t seen until finally she could raise it no further. Lowering her voice she calmly gathered herself together knowing that moments like these often came at such unexpected times.
When she did finally gather her wits she then looked to the man whom was now speaking of his own tales. The crowd enticed as to the sudden insurgence quieted down hearing every syllable as if life depended on it. Using every motion from his hands and fingers the man demonstrated every action to his tale and finally when he had finished the crowd erupted with praise tossing a few coin to the stage for a job well done.
Examining him closely the lady saw nothing truly remarkable about him. His blonde hair was cut to the shoulders and pulled back in a ponytail. His black and grey outfit was made of common fabrics exclusively for travelers. His features where sharp contrasting both youth and wisdom. His eyes dark eyes told of the many adventures he experienced in his life that often seemed more tragic than happy. With a motion from his hand he called to the lady to join next to him. Taking her hand they bowed together sharing the glory of tale.
Stepping back the man took her and swung her around. Instinctively she stepped in unison to the dance which was now underway. As they got close for a second the man looked to her offering her a challenge of song and tale. That the victor would keep the coin purse that was freely given to them by the people they recited for.  With a slight smile the lady happily accepted.
Soon the dance broke way and the man began to speak of a tale in the high seas. His bold words met only by actions of sword and graceful movements. She immediately interjected having the crowd quickly focus on her. Like a damsel in distress she began to sing  loudly words of woe at the capture of her aboard the mighty sea vessel. Her pitch was high and her words true letting the man take a breath hoping that he would falter under the pressure.
However as she sang the man became more aggressive in his tales soon the audience watched as he began using illusions to bless the stage with fire circling around the lady and her song. Pulling out his lute he began to play notes keeping in sync with the ladies majestic voice. As the story ended the crowd was unable to decide a victor instead a draw was declared and the coin purse divided.
While taking her money from the stage she felt a sudden tap on her shoulder. Rising up to meet the man next to her she noticed that he held his hand out with all the coins gathered up. Pushing her hand forward he dropped the money into her palm excused himself and departed. Before she was able to react properly the man was gone leaving her to the roar of an exciting day of bardic completion.
After she had counted her money she decided it was time for her to return to her small tavern. The day was already wearing thin as was her time in the town. She went for a drink only to find sitting at the counter the same man who challenged earlier that morning. Not pleased with his sudden exit she walked calmly over to finally greet him formally.
“Fine tale you spoke this day good sir.” she said quietly.
“A finer day with your song m’ lady, as we all were captivated by your words and beauty” he said back.
“Well I could not simply leave without giving you something you rightfully earned” she said playfully.
“Keep it I have a hoard of gold already that keeps me well in good standing. Take the money back to your town and do with it as you please.” He told her.
“May I at least get your name good sir?” she asked.
“Kalin is my name and you are…?”
“I’m Marianne but many people just calm me Aine.”
“Well met Miss Aine a pleasure to see a bard of your standard in these parts. Many seldom come here as reputation of the town is less than appealing to say the least.”
So after a few hours of drinking some ale the two exchanged tales of love and life. With each passing moment the sun had began to sink lower into the horizon. Soon darkness fell across the land and everyone was setting up to leave the pub. Yawning heavily Aine could no longer hold her eyes open and soon drifted in a deep restful sleep.
The next day Aine found herself in a bed above the bar which she fell asleep. The sun was already coming through the cracks of the wall. The calm winds blowing inside from the open window which she could see a great view of the city itself. As Aine checked herself over she noticed that everything was as she left it. Cursing in her mind for allowing such an event to happen she made her way downstairs to the innkeeper who had already looked over and greeted her.
Upon questioning Aine was told that her companion had paid for the room and left soon after she was taken upstairs. With little to no words he went off into the night and was not seen since. The barkeep provided little information as the gentleman told him nothing save to look after the lady. As she turned to head toward the door a strange calm fell over her.
Heading home Aine could not take her mind of the mysterious bard. His words rang in her head the entire day. Even with darkness approaching and shadows looming she still could think only of Kalin. She whispered to the rein master to speed up as the cold was beginning to get more uncomfortable. Hearing the cracking of leather against the horses whinnies Aine snuggled in her jacket and began to close her eyes.
Suddenly she was awoken to the halt of the carriage. Horses leaped high in the air as the rein master tried desperately to control them. The cold vanished quickly as a rush of heat blasted its way through the carriage windows. Aine made ready her small dagger as she braced against the walls around her seat. As the carriage finally halted Aine crept near a corner unaware as to what to expect.
Calling out to her was a deep raspy voice. The voice was subtle at first then as she stayed her feet where they were it began to get louder and more annoyed. In time another voice joined in taunting her to come outside and join them in the darkness. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as there was no movement from the horses or the rein master that held them. Then the door was ripped from its hinges and a great eye peaked inside.
Aine wanted to scream but her throat like everything else would not move. She tried to calm down but the eyes kept staring coldly as if tearing her soul from her body. The chills went down her spine s much so that she began to spasm. Beginning to feel that she had lost all control the strength she knew deep inside her flowed forth taking back all that was being pulled away.
Stepping from the carriage Aine could see the blood of the horses leaking deeply from their wounds. She sighed as she mourned their loss for they were dear to her. Many times had they came to her rescue to seek adventure and now those days were over. Looking defiantly to the scaled creature above her she let out a single note. The note she recited was one of hope that if she was to fall that may the animals take pity upon her body and not defile it. With a faint smile she lifted up her dagger poised and ready to fight. With a look of determination in her eye she waited for her pursuers to make the first move.
Laughing at the small human the two drakes surrounded her by circling in, teasing her with their nostril flares. They opened their mouths to show off all their sharp teeth hoping to gain another ounce of fear. They beat their wings against the wind making her stumble and fall. To the surprise to both the woman simply stood up continuing her gaze of defiance.
Not letting them gain mastery of her Aine decided it was best to go down fighting. As the hilt of her dagger gripped even tighter she moved forward slowly arching her arm back ready to swing. She shut her eyes as the one drake moved its head back to see what she was intending. Just as she began to motion her arm forward with all her might a hand came and took hold her wrist preventing it from going any further.
Opening her eyes she saw a face she felt she’d never see again. Kalin stood there holding her wrist. How he got there was a mystery as not even the drakes noticed his silent approach. He looked at the two drakes with a face filled with a twisted malice and anger. As he eyed Aine she could sense that something was not as familiar as before. The only question in her mind what it could be?
Admiring his stupidity for meddling in their affairs the drakes turned toward Kalin ready to devour his body. The first drake called to the other placing a bet as to who would catch him first?  With a sly grin they decided that it be best to play with him before actually eating him. They laughed so loudly that the very trees shook from the air spewing from their mouths.
Kalin had already begun to speak to Aine as the drakes began to move their talons towards him. With a brief jump Kalin had already maneuvered well out the way of the first drakes advance. With a smile Kalin took hold of Aine and told her to stick close. As she reached her arm around his waist she could feel his warmth wrap around her body. She was no longer afraid but rather relieved.
“I heard your voice call into the winds and felt that you dying today would hold no meaning for me.” Kalin told her reassuringly.
Taking him and holding him tighter she gave him a great hug. As she did so she could hear him speaking in a language she could not understand. To her amazement the two drakes halted their attack and stepped back a moment allowing Kalin to finish what he had started. A bewildered look overcame them as for the first time the two drakes smelled of fear and terror.
Shifting slightly at first Kalin let go of Aine and told her to step away from him. In a matter of seconds Kalin had completely transformed from the simple man and into a majestic dragon. His scales black with a bluish hue glowed radiantly as the moonlight struck it. As he towered over the two drakes Aine could feel nothing but an impulse to run. Her heart raced but her feet stood still.
Seconds later the two drakes began to charge Kalin the dragon in a battle to the death. Believing that numbers would prevail over size the two drakes used speed to their advantage. Thrusting in with quick strokes the talons tore into the scales with great difficulty. As one headed toward the neck to do a crippling blow the other attacked its feet trying to get Kalin unaware.
As the scales tore from his flesh Kalin gave out a deep rumble. He wanted to rip them from limb to limb. However his sights were not yet set on the defeat of his foes but rather on the well being of the human he stood guarding.  Not allowing his eyes to never leave Aine sighed Kalin seen the two drakes advance trying to separate going for neck and feet.
The first drake had already jumped high into the air securing his teeth around Kalin’s throat. He pressed his talons deeply firmly locking them, as to not get easily shaken off. With his tail he began to bat into the eyes trying to blind him. As he held on he could feel his talons slip easily from the tougher scales making him fall to the ground quickly.
With the first drake sliding off the other drake found himself at a very real dire situation. He tried to take the feet from underneath Kalin to no avail. Instead he began to retreat when suddenly his tail was now firmly pressed by the great dragon’s right foot. Clawing to get free the drake cut away at his own tail hoping that that would be enough soon however he found it too little too late. With one snap of his jaws the dragon took the life from the drake that was now lay motionless under his feet.
Knowing his companion had died quickly the other drake wanted to run. He got to his feet and began to fly away into the air. Beating his wings furiously he began to climb higher and higher in the sky. Not looking back to see if he was being followed he swooped down hoping that the forest could provide him with some cover. As he began to descend he could feel a great weight crash directly on top of him. Crashing to the earth the drake died upon impact. Only the crater was left to serve as his final resting place.
Returning to Aine Kalin could see her shaking violently from the ordeal. Shifting back into the man she knew him as he tried to take her hand into his. Reluctant at first Aine had pulled away now unable to control her sobbing. Reaching out once more he spoke to her in the softest voice she ever heard. As she put her hand to his he raised her on her feet and bowed low. As he went on to inspect the carriage he took hold of her belongings tossing them to the ground outside.
Shifting once more he told Aine to grab her things and climb on his back. As he kneeled low she struggled to get in the scales. With a slight magical boost she was lifted high onto his back where he began to spread his wings and fly. Taking off from the dreadful place she noticed the drakes being carried off by forms she could not quite make out. Soon her attention was back to the air in front of her and off to her home they went.
“So how did you know about the two drakes?” she asked calmly.
“I was able to smell them easily as they were very sure of themselves. They had been following you for a few days. I had picked them up as I flew high over a forest one day. It was there I spotted your carriage and followed all of you to that town we spoke at.” He said reassuringly.
“So if you know of them why did you not help me in the first place?” she said coldly.
“If I had helped you early on then we all would have been in grave danger not from just the drakes but from men as a whole. No one likes to see a bunch of giant scaled beasts wrecking their fair city no matter the reason. I did what I could when I could though I am sorry for the loss of your colleagues and wish to repay for their loss in some way.”
With many more questions to be asked Aine tried hard to think as so much had happened that made her want to simply rest. The dragon feeling her hands slip from the mount told her that it was just a short distance away. In no time at all he came to the same forest were she had gotten into the carriage slowing down his speed he finally landed in a wide open space. Under the cover of darkness he moved under some trees
Arriving just short of her city Kalin had let Aine off his back and down shifted back into a man. “As a dragon I could not move around so easily without a crowd gathering,” he joked. With an encouraging smile Aine took him to her tavern where the customers had already lined up to be seated. As Aine walked inside a cheer arose from the crowd and money was being passed to a man sitting behind the counter. Knowing full well from the past times she had gone Aine knew that they placed bets as to when she would return.
Taking Kalin on a tour was simple enough showing him the areas which she seemed excited to talk about. As her eyes lit up Kalin could see some sadness hidden away in the back of her mind. Unsure when to ask he stayed quiet allowing her to finish what she had started. As the tour ended the patrons all asked for the ale and Aine was back to her normal routine.
So after a few days in the town Kalin came to realize that Aine was like a prisoner in a cage. The ounces of freedom she indulged were that of travel and exotic lands. Knowing that her heart was not in the right place he immediately went to the tavern. While passing through the long lines, many patrons began to become Irate and yell at Kalin for his ignorance of their rules and customs. Having shrugged them off Kalin burst though the doorway as if he owned the place.
Taking Aine by the hand he led her to a back room. Shutting the door tightly behind them he began to express his dissatisfaction at hiding herself away in something he felt was not living to her full potential. He told her of the time he spent with her on the stage that he could feel her alive more than anytime they were recently. Even now with the customers beckoning to her return he could see in her eyes that they wanted more.
Upset over his sudden outburst Aine yelled at Kalin for his lack of understanding. She cared not that he was a dragon who had saved her a few nights before. Instead she belittled him for his lack of moral judgment. That while he was free to do as he wished she was still bound to more than just herself. People relied on her to provide for them a reason for living. That the small moments she gave herself were necessary to cool her head as she absorbed many of the issues that plagued her.
Fighting continued for more than an hour. Each argued bitterly back and forth. Kalin for the want of her to enjoy her life as it was her only life to live. While Aine argued for the motive that there was sometimes a greater need than just oneself and that sacrifices must be made in order to do it. Concluded in a stalemate each came out madder than when they walked in. Not wishing to end on a sour note Kalin went outside.
Gathering many around him Kalin began to make a spectacle of himself. Leading off into a story of a traveler he made use of his illusionary magic. Mesmerizing the crowd he called to Aine to join him. Taunting her with praises and pieces from her own tales he urged her to join. With the people cheering her on Aine made her way next to Kalin and began to sing a glorious song.
When at last the song had ended and the story finished the two took each other by the hand and bowed to the happy folks. Soon they began to chant Aine! Aine! Aine! Lifting her high onto their shoulders carrying her back to the tavern where she could get some peace from the erupting noise outside. Out the corner of her eye Aine could see Kalin standing outside almost turning his back until she could see him no more.
The weeks had come and gone and many had heard of the great songs that were sung from Aine and her humble tavern. Travelers came far and wide to request an audience with her on their own lands. They offered her many incentives to participate as was free room and travel expenses. The people needed hope and she was their inspiration.
Overwhelmed with sudden popularity she had received Aine began to look over each request choosing which ones would be best for her to attend without taking away from anyone else. She scanned each part sending replies back with their respective emissaries asking only one request. That she would do it only if she was able to bring along partners that would add more variety to the show.
So it was she looked for Kalin to assist her in many of her traveling experiences. With a smile he would agree to each and everyone. Sitting that he would be the best way to transport her as a dragon is very fast in the air as opposed to a horse or ship on the land and sea. Agreeing that he would also be the best protector she often flew with him and ahead she went setting up every arrangement letting him relax doing whatever it was that dragons did.
After a while the two were as inseparable like the sun to the day and the moon to the night. Each played their parts enriching those around them with a unique blend of poem and prose. After the readings they would go and talk about life and the beauty and stresses that it held. It was in these moments they treasured above all others.
If the days were too challenging Aine and Kalin would go find a place to relax their feet and dance the night away. With each twirl another stressor was released to the ground until finally they were once again in perfect harmony. Resting onto one another they would fall asleep and wake the next day surrounded by curious animals.
One night as Aine was fast asleep Kalin awoke to the sounds only he could hear. Voices in the winds called to him and to hearken as to what they had to say. Wishing not to disturb Aine he went off alone to transform himself and fly away suddenly. Looking over his shoulder he could see that she would be safe. Surrounding her were many guardian spirits who enjoyed the sweet sound of her voice.
The next morning Aine awoke to find Kalin nuzzled up on the ground covered in leaves. As she got up to make her way toward the Inn she called to Kalin waking him up from his deep rest. Stretching out in his human form he made a brief effort to fall back asleep. Smiling to herself Aine gestured that she would not wait and dashed off into the woods.
A few more nights pass and on the journey back to her tavern Kalin made a brief stop in the woods. Setting down gently he made his way to the spot he had seen her for the first time. Allowing her time to get off his back he looked hard to the ground in front of him. When she finally was in front of him she questioned him as to what was going on.
“I have to go away for awhile,” he said softly.
“Away? Away, going where?” She called back.
“In the woods I met some elders of my kind. They had told me that they were displeased with my conduct that I had been acting more human than dragon. It was also mentioned that the lord of the drakes demanded to see me for I had killed someone very close to him. Wishing not to start a war they asked me to return with them to a neither realm where I would be put on trial.” He said hastily.
“I have always looked at you as a sister. One whom I could share my darkest secrets and not be judged harshly. You maybe a human but your words, your song, and your life mean more to me than all the treasure in the world. These last few months have been a blessing to me with all the time I spent with you.” He continued.
Looking up at him she began to shed a tear. Her life was so small when compared to a dragons and she wondered how long it be before she would see him again. Taking her hand and pressing against his scales she moved over each one as if to remember every fine point and detail. She pressed her face as close as she could get it to his head and kissed him softly.
“Brother bard these few months have been the happiest my whole life. It was you that helped me continue when I was unable to move. It was you that saw me through some of the darkest times and let your light shine upon me. I cannot bear to never see you ever more….”
Putting her head down onto his neck Kalin lowered his head and nuzzled Aine closely. With his time drawing near he closed his eyes and began to concentrate. Pressing his eyelids shut he squeezed with all his might. As blood began to trickle down the side of his face he took his paw and scooped up the blood. Firmly he molded it until at last he had made a jewel the size of a tear drop.
Handing the tear drop to Aine he began to beat his wings as if readying himself for departure. With each movement higher in the air the more Aine held tightly. Finally when she was no longer able to hold on and fell to the ground Kalin began to turn himself around. As he did so he let out a deep rumble through the forest.
“Dear sweet sister as I depart this day, never fear for I am not far from you. Though physically I may not be here the tear connects us a symbol of our bond and our love. That should you ever wish to know I am still with thee just sing into the winds and I will hear your song. Live your life and don’t look back. Farewell my sister! Farewell!”
In a matter of moments he was gone. The winds carried him so high that Aine could barely make out the spec from a shiny star. As she looked to her and right she could feel a cold chill once again race down her spine. Feeling alone for the first time in a long time she gripped the tear tightly and headed back to the tavern.
Recalling the last of her memories she witnessed flashes of the years passing by. With each new season came many tales and adventures. Some pleasant like her marriage and birth of a son and watched him grow up and become a man. To the fall of cities and the evil ravishes of war. Still her confidence never yielded and she sang every day into the winds. Hoping and praying that by some small chance her brother bard could hear her song and rejoice in the fact that she was living a good life.
As she sang that day her voice rang higher than it had in ages. So long has it been since the flood of emotion ran to her. So long had it been since she heard him call her name. Weeping silently she turned away from the rising sun clutching her hand over the teardrop necklace. As her hand fell to the side a faint glow was seen illuminating from within it. As if responding to her words a dragon could be seen singing along with her.

                The End

The Night Before Christmas (World of Darkness Style) as told by Patriciann Heron of SL

‘Twas the night before Christmas, in mid-winter time,

Not a creature was stirring, not even the Kine;

Our lives were displayed by Elysium with care,

In hopes that our Prince soon would be there;

The Malkavians were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads;

My ghoul in her evening wear, and I in my dress,

Were all dressed up in our Sunday best.

When out on the street there arose such a roar,

I sprang from my chair and ran to the door.

Through the Speakeasy I flew down the stairs,

The kindred behind me still unawares.

The moon on the snow gave luster so keen,

I thought for a moment this must be a dream.

When, what to my wondering eyes be displayed,

An exquisite stretch limo, with a long motorcade.

With Ms. DuPrie driving with beauty and lace,

I knew in a moment it must be His Grace.

More rapid than eagles his faithful they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, Case! now, White! now, Summers and Simms!

On, Madison! on Dregor! on all Primogens!

Now Brownstone! now, Simpson! now Whips one and all!

On Mitchell! Now dash away! dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane flee,

They whisked ’round the building, all smiling with glee.

So up to the fire escape the coursers they flew,

With a load full of blessings, Prince Almuerte too.

And then, in a twinkling, we ran up the stairs,

Cursing and swearing to be the first there.

As I reached the stair top, and was turning around,

Through VIP entrance, His Grace came with a bound.

He was dressed impeccably, from his head to his toes,

As he glanced at the kindred, expectation arose.

A bundle of blessings he had flung on his back,

Our needs he provided, for nothing we lacked.

His eyes — how they twinkled! how ivory his cheeks!

Any who displease him truly are up shit creek!

His demeanor was calm, his expression was cool,

What a present his visit on this Christmas Yule.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Told me no need to worry; I’m already dead!

He spoke to us all, and went straight to his work,

We gathered to listen, like Scots in a kirk.

Wisdom and knowledge, he gave to us all,

To strengthen and protect us, lest we should fall.

His countenance was radiant, his words did inspire,

To clan, sect and kin, one and all, vampire.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, to the fire escape he arose;

He sprang to his limo, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”

The Taxi as told by Patriciann Heron of SL (the /me denotes an action taken by the story teller)

That jaunty jalopy, how it zips! How it goes!
In a blur it confers its good fares to their goals.
Like bees in a beehive, they buzz through the streets!
These yellow-clad fellows, on their daily beats.
/me smirks with a little grin to one side, knowing what is to come.

In wintery slush piles, they slide and they skid,
Like run-amok bumper cars on the street grid.
Picking up passengers with nary a word,
And dropping them off again, shaken, not stirred.
/me looks up through her eyelashes, sapphire eyes sharing a look with the audience.

But sometimes at night, these checkered chauffeurs,
Change their agendas- a strange thing occurs.
Not plowing through snowpiles and picking up sheeple,
They pick up the snowpiles and plow through the people!
/me furrows her eyebrows, then becomes animated, discussing the antics of the vehicles.

The sidewalks are filled, and all should beware,
An extra ten points for that wheelchair!
The jaywalkers spray with a fine crimson mist,
What a fine pastime, as their bumpers are kissed!
/me recites with delight!

The street cops, the vendors, the road repair crew,
That smack on the ass was long overdue!
The blue hairs, the cyclists, the three-piece-suit lawyers,
They rush through them all, these avenging destroyers.
/me shakes her head at those evil lawyers.

Careening about wildly, sliding into their foes,
Spinning and winning their bid to oppose.
The running and screaming, as onward they sweep,
Collecting their payback- Honk! Honk! Beep! Beep!
/me pretends to steer a car, veering into hapless victims with a crap eating grin on her face.

Then sure as it started, they all start to pause,
The taxis return to their regular jobs.
So if you are looking for a ride down the street,
'Ware the night taxis, who are looking for meat!
/me smiles and bows.

Crater Lake as told by Patriciann Heron of SL (the /me denotes an action taken by the story teller)

Once in a distant, foreign land,
Where ne’er did step the foot of man,
There sits aloft a crater lake,
Festering in a restless state.
/me sets the stage, whispering loud enough to be heard in the dim lights.
And on that mountain’s jagged sides,
Carved steps, inhuman, do arise,
Like scars across disfigured face,
For legs of a fetid, alien race.
/me points to the floor, pointing out the path of the steps with her finger, her face mildly disgusted.
On viscuous banks mired in woe,
An unknown story has been told,
Of shadows fleeting, dim and gray,
And things forbidden for one to say.
/me sweeps her hand out towards the audience, her voice still whispering.
Vapours bloom there in the night,
Seeping with unholy might,
To hide the secrets that there lay,
Scents of foul and dark decay.
/me knits her eyebrows together, sneering with this last verse.
One midnight hour I traveled thence,
Ascended steps of pestilence,
And viewed a sleeping scene of old,
Under full moon it did unfold.
/me pantomimes climbing steps; slowly, cautiously, her voice now at normal speaking levels.
For on this eve the stars aligned,
Illumined murky waters brine,
Astral figures sequenced right,
For this one rare and hideous night.
/me looks up gazing into a clear, starry sky.
Around that lake within the mists,
Came shambling, oozing, living cysts,
That danced around that gruesome scene,
I crouched and hid lest I be seen.
/me crouches, her eyes widening, her voice becoming panicked.
From the depths of ancient time,
They quivered to some unheard rhyme,
And as they did, the lake did clear,
I crept out from my ledge and peered.
/me slowly creeps out behind an imaginary ledge, her eyes glued, fixedly, at the scene before her.
Then stirring in the deepest depths,
A glimpse of movement therein lept,
Within the waters there did rise,
An orb of growing, swelling size.
/me ’s voice rises in pitch,  volume, and tempo.
From the surface, then discovered,
A giant, floating eyeball hovered,
It surveyed its worshipers,
Malicious stare and silent curse.
/me slows her words dramatically, pausing for effect, her voice still rising in volume.
Round the bank the eye did go,
Slowly bobbing to and fro,
Rounding corner, it turned to see,
Then paused and focused right on me!
/me eyes become wide with fright, her voice nearly screaming.
To my horror, now insane,
The entire congregation came,
Up the hill towards my site,
I turned and lept into the night.
/me begins yelling the words in the above stanza, then turns and leaps from the audience towards the backstage.
Falling down the mountain side,
I bounced and tumbled to reside,
At mountains base where fading sight,
Did claim me in that awful night.
/me shoulder rolls, landing on her side, eyes closed.
When I awoke, it was all gone,
That mountain and its hellish spawn,
I swear this story is all true,
That none of it was construed.
/me awakens and slowly rises, facing the audience.
So if you go to foreign lands,
Where ne’er doth step the foot of man,
Beware that midnight mountainside,
Where nightmare and this realm collide.
/me approaches the front of the stage, smiling slightly, finishing the story.
/me bows.

A Night of Weeping - A Tale of Lament as told by Patriciann Heron of SL

One fog-filled night, I sat apart, not knowing that my beating heart,
Would willfully weep a great and heavy sigh,
Whilst I trod to take my place, I slightly quickened my lowly pace,
I knew only that I must try, to fulfill my duty lest I die.
“Duty bound,” I whispered, “I must comply -
To do my duty, lest I die.”
Patricia seems to look out, as if into a fog-filled night, squinting to see what lay ahead, with determination and resolve impressed upon her features.
I crouched there in the murky soup awaiting the time to recoup,
A fraction of acceptability.
Little, though, was I to know, the velvet curtains soon would draw closed,
And loves last lingering would be lost, lost to days of yore.
Oh, would that things could be the way they were before!
It’s all lost to days of yore.
Patricia looks out over a vast expanse towards the horizon past the audience, her face melting into a look of great despair and yearning for intercession, her hands clasped to her chest.
I glanced up over the high spiked gate, waiting the time that I must wait,
Then scrabbled scaling skywards towards the wall.
Once atop the granite tower, I paused peering, squinting downwards,
Looking o’er the vast expanse, I saw nothing that should cause distress.
The fog itself was no distress, it hid me in its soft caress,
There was nothing there- just emptiness.
Patricia pretends to climb a series of vertical bars, looking up into the sky; then, crouching atop a wall, peers, scanning out over a vast sea of fog.
As I deftly descended down, my handhold broke and with a frown,
I struggled with the hold as it tore free.
Swiftly sailing up to meet me, came the ground and oh, how sweetly
Did my body rush to embrace that plain of earth,
Slowly crumpling did my body greet the earth,
This just the beginning of my dearth.
Patricia acts as though she is losing her grip, then leans back, looking at the piece of mortar in her hand, twisting and falling onto the floor, skillfully.
Once inside I was now free, to meet my goal, to go and see
The missing monkeys I’d been tasked to find.
Just a touch to cage and door, my mind illumined, then once more,
All would be finished, my burden done, my chore complete
That’s all I wanted- to have my chore complete.
The ground then rumbled- trembling, beneath my feet.
Patricia gets up with her back to the audience, then she looks to the ground, and her head turns slowly around, her black- lined eyes widened dramatically in fear.
The largest eyes you’d ever seen then pounced on me, I held my scream,
And pulled my lifeless limb from ‘neath its jaws.
Blood beckoned burning from my bones, my speed increased, my senses honed,
That thick, warm fog that hid me, that welcomed me, was now my foe.
It curtained me, enveloped me, ensnared me, that nameless foe,
Where exit lay I did not know.
Patricia‘s arm yanks her 5 feet across the stage, before she rips it free; the arm falls helplessly to her side.
I ran blindly, groping, seeking, refuge from pursuing beastling,
Away from razor claws and baited breath.
Then from the fog a silhouette, a gated entrance I had met,
As I lept upon caged doors- with a padlock it was held fast,
Escape… denied, from a simple padlock that held it fast.
Death’s dark shadow had come at last.
Patricia grips an invisible cage door rattling it, only to look down with disappointment to see the lock firmly holding it shut.
Renewed fury then did claim me, with one good fist I hammered vainly,
Against the simple lock that held my key.
Stabbing, striking to be free, each bloody blow struck back at me,
Shredded, severed, sliced asunder, as beast into me tore.
‘Til metal breached and crumpled, twas no more.
I hurled myself through open door.
Patricia pounds at the padlock with her one good arm fiercely, wincing visibly as her jabs strike with each hammering blow. She finally falls forward.
One would think I had survived, with renewed hope I sought to strive,
To make my way from tigers deadly den.
From the pan into the fire, I found that then I was now mired,
Powerless, prostrate, prone- I could not move.
No will was left for me to move.
A feeble joke for fate to prove.
Patricia starts to crawl, then stops, unmoving, except for her recital.
I lay there empty, mute, alone, my body quiet like a stone,
As memories of times past did pass me by.
Then in sorrow, moveless, weeping, of my sin I was now reaping,
Loves last lingering had been lost, lost to days of yore.
Oh, would that things could be the way they were before!
It’s all lost to days of yore.
Patricia’s still, unmoving body along with the accompanying silence is startling. Then, slowly, a single tear forms in one eye, as it accumulates and begins to flow down her cheek, until it gathers, then drops to the polished hardwood floor with a tiny -drip.-  Then… silence.

Mountain Man as told by Patriciann Heron - A WoD poem -the /me denotes an action during telling of story/poem

/me introduces the poem. "The following story is based on a true account of events that occured in New Corsica, Louisiana, that I was witness to. It's called, 'Mountain Man.' "

Duncan Montana was a mountain man,
And a mountainous man he was,
The strength of his will, and the depth of his heart
Stood fast in the heavens above.
/me begins the story, admiring the Gangrel she once knew.

On the peaks he strode through moonlit troves,
On velvety indigo snow,
'Neath blinking starry skies, civilization he despised,
His love was for his abode.

/me sweeps her hand across the audience, describing the mountain snow, then her eyes survey with wonder the brilliant winter sky.

O'er summit he'd roam, like an ambling stone,
Surveying all he could see.
Where eagles dare and foxes 'ware,
He was home in that aerie sea.
/me smiles now, remembering Duncan's love for his homeland- the smile starts at first with delight- then it turns bittersweet.

But one day as is often the way,
His life was about to change,
For his sire had come under midnight sun
Over the windy mountain range.
/me raises her eyebrows with curiosity in anticipation of what might happen.

"Childe you've been free to stay and see
Fair nature unrefined.
But now explore some distant shores
And learn more of our kind."
/me sagely intones the words of his sire, filled with wisdom and understanding.

So off he went with his pack and tent,
To the oceans far away.
He finally arrived and would there abide
In the city to make his stay.
/me furrows her eyebrows, struggling to understand the difficulty of leaving the wilderness to come to an urban life.

The land was flat, the humidity moist,
It was a swampy, soupy mess.
Not pristine where the air was clean,
And his mountain soul could rest.
/me squints her eyes at first describing the conditions, then her face becomes compassionate, understanding the need for rest- for home.

He met them all that night in the fall,
In Elysium fair and true,
Though some distained; still he refrained,
Keeping his peace anew.
/me nods in approval to his discretion.

His eyes would squint like a man named Clint;
He was silent as a monk,
Although unspoken, the question unasked,
"Do you feel lucky, punk?"
/me laughs a little at her allusion to the actor, Clint Eastwood, and Duncan's striking resemblance to him.

To the trees in silent breeze,
Where crickets chirped their tune.
He would retreat, but soon did meet,
The bluest of blue moons.
/me 's face becomes more serious, her speech slows; the foreshadowing an ominous omen.

They gathered there, in the park square,
Seeking some fair sport.
To put him down, to make him pay,
They were not the pleasing sort.
/me frowns, shaking her head.

Upon the man they descended and
Abused him with words most fowl.
But all froze still, with a frightening chill,
At a cacophaneous howl!
/me 's lined eyes widen dramatically, her speech becoming more intense.

Eyes alarmed, they were disarmed,
The lupines were at hand.
"You get away, and I will stay,"
He turned to make his stand.
/me becomes concerned, her admiration visible although her body language tense with the stress of the situation.

His nails grew, he snarled and through
The treeline came the beast!
It howled again and loped at him,
One man to fill the breach!
/me raises her voice once more, the narrative reaching its climax.

Then they engaged, both were enraged,
It was an awful sight.
Claw to claw and fang to fang,
They battled through the night!
/me 's voice reaches a fever pitch as she describes the battle.

The others ran, their selfish plan
Of evil turned awry.
No longer did they speak ill of he
Who for their sakes had died.
/me slows down, the fight resolved, her voice now somber and emotional.

So when those new or green to you
A tempting target makes,
Remember when you were once green too
And correct for instructions' sake.
/me gestures with an open hand, palm up.

For it is not depravity, but to humanity
That we must earstwhile cling.
In truth we all have a part to play
In the grand scheme of things.
/me reflects on the idealism behind the moral of the story, her face hopeful while addressing the audience, then she continues.

O'er summit he'd roam, like an ambling stone,
Surveying all he could see.
Where eagles dare and foxes 'ware,
He was home in that aerie sea.
/me recites the reprise, looking off towards the horizon, then bows.

The Dragon and the Genie as told by David Itamae

It has been ages since this story took place. In what day or age is anyones guess. If i had a choice Id say sometime in the Silver or Bronze age. The time of the tale is not the concern here.

  No the tale itself the completeness is the most important. For in the sands of time many names and tales are lost and forgotten. I hope that this will not be so but as with anything created only time will tell.

The dragon had waken up as he always had. His wings flexed in the morning sun. The warmth of the cave still fresh in his scales. He awoke and greeted his loving dragoness. She to him was the most important being in his life.

He then looked down at the egg that was to be his hatchling. Male or female it didnt matter, it would be loved either way. This was a morning like all others and so roll the stone and off in flight he went.

On the other side of the world was a genie. Not like a genie in a lamp no this was a free genie. He managed to find a person who was not so smart as to keep a genie in his prison.

  In this day there were two types of genies who served: those who believed in making the world a better place for those in need and those who were bound because they were evil and arrogant. This genie so happened to be of the later type.

The origins of the genie are not known however it is said that he was of an ancient tribe far superior to the elementals we know today. Of what elemetal he was aligned it was said to be all.

So his great power came from a combination of things. He was evil and cruel so the elders of the day bound him in an invisible chain. The chain was not long and was held in place by a bottle.

The distance was said to be 20 feet. One foot was granted per good deed in his life. He was over 3000 yrs old. The base was set to a metal bottle of unknown material, unbreakable and sealed in an ancient tongue that only the elders knew.

This was his curse to serve beings of greed until he freed himself with a wish from either a kind soul or mindless fool.

The genie had found a master who had been granted three wishes two wishes irrelivant to the genie were granted. However as the man stupered in drunkenness the genie had tricked him inot making the third wish.

  In the wish the bonds that held the genie were fianlly let go. In that time the malice the genie held within him had finally come out at last.

  He trapped his master and destroyed the bottle so that his master never had a chance to redeem him to his former post. This was the nature of the genie now and forever after.

The Genie now being free from his bonds proceeded to destroy all the good he saw in the world. The one thing that along with his bonds went most of his magical power.

For now being free he could no longer be a being of unlimited strength. He was now mortal though age and air did not affect him he could die.

  He had a great stamina this was allowed to him for he still was a being of might. Though limited he used his power to kill the beings he believed was lower than he or destroy the things ones loved. In time the people called him Naropto of the Devils Grin.

Naropto began his day as any other with the suns rays beating off a fire he had caused. The village was engulfed in a mound of flame. As bodies littered the ground below the screams could be heard high above.

  Noone was spared male, female, and infant all at the hands were nothing more than play things for a child. He twisted the form of the village chief. making his body in a rectangular shape with arms and legs twisted in all directions.

He then placed him on a tree to swing for all to see. He had taken a woman and from her womb he ripped out her organs and layed them around her in a gruesome order another spectacle of his genius.

The dragon flew fast and far that day. Somehow his mind was filled of thoughts beyond his reach and it was said he took long strides to be at peace.

The winds in his eyes the ground beneath his feet. What sights he must have seen? The wings beat hard against friction of the air as he moved like a graceful bird.

 The smell of smoke reached his nostrils. The scent of the dead rang clear like bell. Though he disliked killing to a small degree sav if it was a thief or muderer. The scent however peaked his curiousity and his appitite.

He looked down with his great dragonic eyes and saw the smoldering village in the woods around it. He decided it was  worth a closer look swooped down from his high rise above the small clouds.

He reached the viallge and the scent of burning flesh was still fresh. He could see the half burned bodies of the people and it sickened his heart. He was noble and kind and the slaughter was enough to make even this great wyrm sick.

  He saw the remains of the chief and woman and began to vomit. For the spell had also given the bodies a foul stench that was now evident above the smell of wood and flesh. The village was gone now and every flower and small animal too were destroyed.

Then he saw movement in the woods. He changed frm a large dragn to a smaller more manuverable one.

 The trees alive with fire  blazed fast against the mighty oaks. The trees swayed side to side as if in a rythmatic pattern to rid themselves of fiery death.

Naropto in fashion froze them in place and made the fires spread faster and hotter than before. He danced in the meledy of flame and hatred. The ground itself had dried up and water was no longer available or boiling.

As the fish came up littered the banks in what seemed to be a curse from a most ungracious god.

The dragon had seen the form in the woods. It was said the form looked human with tattered clothing which was nothing more than a dark robe covered in rotting flesh and dried blood.

  The face wore an ivory mask that only had a smile and behind the mask a set of dark red eyes that to ones easily frightened would kill them. He wore no shoes yet the fires seemed not to affect him.

"Naropto is my name and your far from home I suggest you leave now dragon, or face your death a little early." said a voice. "I know your thoughts I can read your mind. I can enter without but a glypse in your direction.

Now hurry along I have no time to play with giant snakes." The voice said sturnly. "I am not your play thing. You will not address me so poorly, nor will you ever remark me as such again.

You may talk in my mind but I know you cant read my thoughts. You dont scare me and you will pay for deeds both seen and unseen. "

  Shouted the Dragon. "I am Kabitis of the Storm clan and I pledge my devotion to put you down."  At this Kabitis slit his scales with his mighty talon and let the blood soak to the ground.

The First move was swift and Naropto struck first. Having heard the dragon raced toward him at blinding speed. As he neared he grew bigger and bigger and landed an elbow on Kabitis.

This sent Kabitis moving backward. At the challange Kabitis grew to his full size and raced toward the humanoid. Landing a strong paw into his right shoulder the claws sunk deep. Naropto hissed in pain and backed slowly.

The two made another pass at one another and Kabitis pinned him to the ground. Naropto clenched his fist and began to punch the dragon. Hit so hard it stunned Kabitis and made him lose focus.

The monstrous form grew ever larger and head butted the dragon right in his snout. The dragon staggered back and Naropto got to his feet. He lunged at the dragon and grabbed his foot and began to swing them around.

Around he went faster and faster and finally let go. The force was so strong that it threw Kabitis far into the woods. You could see the birds escape the area, and with a loud thuderous crash he fell deep in ground.

Kabitis after some struggle got to his feet and spread his wings far from his body. He roared loudly as a sign he was not going down easily. Just has he regained his focus Naropto jumped on his back, and began to hit him repeatedly.

  Kabitis feeling the gounds sting decided to take to the air. He flapped his wings hard against the wind and rose high above the earth.

  With Naropto on his back, the mighty dragon took his tail and wrapped it around Naroptos neck. As the force of the tail forced him off his back he plunged him back to earth. With Naropto free falling Kabitis rushed forward slamming into genie and now moved with greater force to the world below.

As he neared the edge before he could no longer swing out of the dive he stopped and fired his mighty breath into Naropto.

Falling into the ground made a large crater, the crater in turn spewed steam that rose high in the air. The descent had weakened Kabitis and his wings tired. As he believing his victory in hand began to turn.

As he turned away the genie had sprang again this time with his own energy beam. As the dragon saw the beam comming fired his breath again and summoned his aura to help keep him revitalized.

The two beings were now at a standstill. The victory belongs to one who can survive each one knew it and each one wanted it. The genie began to weaken as the dragon was revitalized by his own aura.

The power the genie wasted on the village was now his downfall. In a desperate move he stopped his beam and made his hands into a weapon. curving his hands into a sigle sharp point he charged.

The skin burning and being electrofied did not slow him down enough. He still charged forward. The dragon seeing either to take the hit or stop altogether decided not to be rash and dodged out the way.

With the aura and electricity gone Naropto thought he would simply get aother chance. However he was mistaken as again he was racing toward the world below.

The slam was great as Naropto hit some trees and went to the ground. The smoke was heavy and was not clear but as it settled the mighty jaws of Kabitis were deep inside the genie.

  Eating away his life force and ripping his limbs from their body. The thoughts of the past had came into Kabitis's mind and he knew all that happend before him. The trial of Naropto his 3000 yrs before being a genie everything.

A tear had formed over Kabitis's eyes and fell to the ground the genie was dead. The sins he had commented were avenged. The light had once again returned to the world which cowered in fear of this menace.

True to his nature he cried aloud in victory. He once again took to the skys and raced toward his home and into history. "May the wind find grace within your wings and your eyes never fail you oh noble dragon you inspire us all."

GREED or The Trinket as told by David Itamae

 It was in the days of old this story takes place. I have went over many nights trying to decipher the meanings to these tales. In the end I can only wonder aimlessly at what went on in their heads. Though it is not my job to decode anything. I just tell the story.

While on my many travels I came across many cultures and people. In the richness of all they had to share I was greeted by many tales to which was had many meanings for them in their lives. Of this tale that was told to me was about a man called Falek.

Falek was a man of high station. Son of a  merchant and a gypsy, he traveled the distance with his family learning the trades and the people. He was of a stern build strong in mind and hand. Many labors would not be completed had it not been for his will alone. of the detail of appearance they could not fully say just that he was scarred from his left brow to his cheek.

Falek had lived among his family many years. One day as the caravan passed along a river bed Falek had looked out the wagon to behold the beauty of the water. However it was not water he saw but an old man. He bid the man steering to halt the wagon. Falek stepped out and greeted the old man.

The Old Man was dressed in robes and rags. Carrying only a small sack on his left hip anda larger one over his right shoulder. His face was dirty and marked with age. His hands withered from many winters of hard work. Hiseyes however showed a kind of child like clarity. This was also showed in the smile he gave to Falek on that day.

The two men sat around the banks of the river, for what seemed to be hours. They laughed into the night. In that time the old man presented Falek  a trinket. Nothing too fancy but just a small silver trinket. "Said to bring luck to whoever controls it,".Said the Old Man As the old man nodded off dawn approached.

The caravan slowly drew away from the river. In the happiness of his new toy Falek starred and admired it. he looked for any inscription, to his dismay was none. It was as the old man had stated a simple ordinary trinket. Still seeing somthing good from it put it deep in his possessions and fell fast asleep.

The caravan was still along way home when Falek was suddenly startled. It was evening now and the cold in the air was felt. Falek grabbed a blanket and quickly slipped back into the land of dreams. As he slipped away a smile unlike any other greeted his lips.

The next few days were uneventful even boring. The Caravan saw no business. They simply waited then moved on. it was a saturday when at last some business had finally drummed up. Falek was pleased. Clutching tightly to the trinket he watched and smiled as many buyers came and went. Eagerly he counted his gold. Nothing special here, he thought. Hmm this trinket would be better melted down. Passing the notion from his mind he threw the trinket on a pile of clothes and went to bed.

The Night came to morning and covered in a deep fog. Falek called for his servants but noone ever came. He cried louder but still noone came. He raised ou his bed and went ouside. The fog was still thick but the suns rays still pierced through. The cold air around him he walked searching for answers. He came to the head of the convoy, to see noone there.

The wagon had been completely cleaned out. of any life that was in it. Nothing was touched as far as objects. Neither was anything out of place. Strange he thought as he went from wagon to wagon. Same thing in every part of the Group. No women, no children no men. Seeing as this could be a joke he started to laugh. Come out you guy!, He Yelled. Still nothing.

Seeing that it could be far worse he grabbed his knives. Still calling to the wind for anyone he made his way back to his bed. He looked to the ground seeign for any tracks. In the corner of his eye he could see a flicker of orange. Looking up he saw his wagon becoming engulfed in flames. In a mad rush he made his way toward the gold. The flames so intense he could not pass. There Falek stood in awe of such things.

As he ran to run back to the first wagon he was stopped cold by a big hand. The hand had pulled him backwards with so much force that he fell to the ground breaking his wrist. Getting up to see what happened he only saw the eyes of a beast. "Your sins are to be cleansed from you Falek," it called. "Who or what are you?" Falek yelled in fear!" I am Luck Redeemer for the Just," said the beast in haste. At the No more was ever seen or heard from Falek again.

The morning in question everyone had awoken from their wagons from the sudden screams of women. The men and children hurried from their beds to see what was to matter. It was then they saw the groutesque figure of Falek. hung by a pole his body torn as if by a wild beast. In his hands was a scroll. The men of the Caravan decided to open the scroll as if fate compelled them to.

In the reading of the scroll it was revealed that Falek was indeed a murderer, a cheat, a coward and a liar. it was also to be known that he killed his family with a poison to gain the fortune in which they held. lastly it was in depth of all murders and cross deals ever made by Falek. As they turned to mourn for their fallen comrads and the ill will of Falek let him be and decided to press on to the nearest town.

As the last wagon passed into the heat of the day, the old man appeared once again. He walked to the spiked body of Falek and smiled. "Greed comes in many forms my fine friend. I told you that what you held would bring Luck. I never said it was good or evil. I knew all along your heart. Even as you stabbed me and left me by the river bed I knew your due was at hand. I will name clease you and the world of your filth!" Said the old man. With that he reached in the mangled guts of Falek and held within his hand a glowing white light. As the old man peered down into it clenched his fist depleting the light from the world. The light molded into another silver trinket and became still. Once all was said and done the old man  vanished never to be seen again by the eyes of the world.

At the end of this story I asked the Tribes man about how could such things be known if Falek was dead. They snickered and turned to me. Children my lord they see everything. They are innocent and see only truth. They saw all the deceptions of that night and any night. This tale was handed down from them to their children to thier children and finally to us. All I can say my lord is all our deeds are accountable and it matters not when just that they are indeed accounted for.

I am Stretched on your Grave

I am stretched on your grave
And will lie there forever
With your hands held in mine
I'd be sure we'd not sever
My apple tree my brightness
'Tis time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am stained by the weather

When my family thinks
That I'm safe in my bed
From night until morning
I am stretched at your head
Calling out to the air
With tears both hot and wild
Oh I grieve for the girl
That I loved as a child

The priests and the friars
Behold me in dread
Because I still love you
My love and you're dead
I would still be your shelter
From rain and from storm
And with you in your cold grave
I cannot sleep warm

The Wind that Shakes the Barley

I sat within the valley green, I sat me with my true love
My sad heart strove the two between, the old love and the new love
The old for her, the new that made me think on our land dearly
While soft the wind blew down the glen and shook the golden barley

'Twas hard the woeful words to frame to break the ties that bound us
But harder still to bear the shame of foreign chains around us
And so I said, "The mountain glen I'll seek at morning early
And join the bold united men, while soft winds shake the barley"

While sad I kissed away her tears, my fond arms round her flinging
The foeman's shot burst on our ears from out the wildwood ringing
A bullet pierced my true love's side in life's young spring so early
And on my breast in blood she died while soft winds shook the barley

But blood for blood without remorse I've taken at Oulart Hollow
And laid my true love's clay cold corpse where I full soon may follow
As round her grave I wander drear, noon, night and morning early
With breaking heart when e'er I hear the wind that shakes the barley

Sweet Son - aka Swete Sonne - translation from middle english

Swete sone, reu on me 
And breste out of thy bondes 
For me thinket that I see 
Thoru Bothen thin bondes 
Nailes driven into the tree 
So reufuliche thu honges 
Now is betre that I flee 
And lett alle these londes 

Swete sone, thy faire face 
Droppet all on blode 
And thy body downward 
Is bounded to the rode 
How may thy modress hert 
Tholen so swete fode 
That blessed was of alle born 
And best of alle gode 

How may thy modress hert 
Tholen so swete fode 
That blessed was of alle born 
And best of alle gode 

Swete sone, reu on me 
And bring me out of this live 
For me thinket that I see 
Thy deth, it neyhet swithe 
Thy feet nailed to the tree 
Now may I no more thrive 
For this werld withouten thee 
Ne shall me maken blithe

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sweet son, have pity on me
And break out of your bonds
For I think I see
Through both your hands
Nails have been driven into the tree
So painfully you hang there
It would be better if I fled now
And abandoned all these lands

Sweet son, your beautiful face
Is dripping with blood
And your body beneath
Is bound to the cross
How will your mother's heart
Endure such a sweet child
That was born most blessed of all
And was the most goodly of all

How will your mother's heart
Endure such a sweet child
That was born most blessed of all
And was the most goodly of all

Sweet son, have pity on me
And deliver me from this life
For I think I see
Your death approaches quickly
Your feet have been nailed to the tree
Now I may never prosper
For without you, all of this world
Can never make me happy