Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-4893169-20150627030850

Ch 1--What happened Before

"The malevolent have hidden teeth."

[Lat., Malevolus animus abditos dentes habet.] - Syrus (Publilius Syrus), Maxims Roman (Syrian-born) mimographer (c. 1st century BC)

"Be wary then; best safety lies in fear."

- - -William Shakespeare "Hamlet" English playwright and poet (1564 – 1616)

"Those that set in motion the forces of evil cannot always control them afterwards."

- - - Charles W. Chestnutt American Novelist (1858 - 1932)

From the Journal Entry of Kes Allyntahl

The house I had lived in was one of the oldest in town, and I knew this because despite new ownership, the locals still referred to the place after the original occupants--the Herons.

Heron Manor, as it was called, looked more like a frog than a heron. The house had none of the angular grace and spiky dignity of a heron. It was a low and rounded house with white plaster walls and a roof of thatched reed, plopped on a low hill above a marshy stream. Whoever had built the house had not like straight lines, the corners were rounded as were the windows and a South facing bay window. It was an humorous house, with a certain froggy charm. The sort of house inhabited by harmless amiable bumpkins, whose conversations were full of fish caught and balls hit.

It was a happy house. Surely, I thought, nothing could possibly go wrong in such a picturesque, bucolic locale.

I was so wrong.

'''Year of the Silver Tiger

Heron Manor, Swanwick Coast

4th of Sept. 2012'''

Kes was curled up beneath her embroidered down covers.‭ ‬Its quilted layers were supposed to offer the occupant a comfy warm space to creep under and shut out the outside world. Yet her dreams were far from comforting.

In this dream,‭ ‬a steady stream of skunks was pursuing her. They were gamboling merrily along,‭ ‬while Kes shrieked and clawed her way desperately through air as thick as molasses.

Despite her frantic efforts,‭ ‬she only achieved the same rate of speed of an ordinary skunk plodding along in its usual flat-footed gait. Suddenly she was covered with them,‭ ‬hundreds,‭ ‬perhaps thousands,‭ ‬maybe even tens of thousands. She could feel their pudgy-clawed feet digging hard into her backside. At the same time there came an unmentionable odor that made her gorge rise.

Kes opened her eyes slowly and blearily. Reluctantly,‭ ‬she glanced up at the window at the foot of the bed. The advancing dawn made the bedroom shutters a luminous pattern. To Kes,‭ ‬it was a blurred smear of light that hung in the semi-darkness like a faint reflection in a dark pool.

She tried to pull the covers over her head,‭ ‬but they were caught under something. Working one hand loose from underneath the sheet,‭ ‬she fumbled around and felt something heavy and furry lounging between her shoulder blades.

Purring loudly,‭ ‬Miss Tabitha began kneading her claws into Kes's back as if it was a soft plush cushion. Squeaky was another leaden weight laying across her two twitching feet.

‭"‬Ow,‭" ‬said Kes,‭ ‬rolling the tabby off.

Miss Tabitha gave a little mew of disapprove and then jumped back onto Kes's shoulder. She started digging in her claws again.

“Hey,‭ ‬quit that,‭"‬said Kes,‭ ‬rolling her aside again.

The cat went back to her favorite sleeping spot.

‭"‬Okay,‭"‬muttered Kes,‭ ‬giving up.‭ "‬You can stay there.  Just don't claw me again.‭"

With an exasperated sigh,‭ ‬she closed her eyes and tried to get back to sleep,‭ ‬a faint noxious odor made her think otherwise.

Of course,‭ ‬she thought,‭ ‬with that smell and the cats sleeping on me,‭ ‬it's no wonder I dreamed of skunks chasing me.

She wondered why of all places in the forest did the skunk had to let loose a barrage near the front door‭?‬  Hopefully,‭ ‬the smell didn't seep through enough to permeate her clothes and carpeting.

Eventually,‭ ‬she rolled both cats to one side,‭ ‬stretched,‭ ‬and then slipped on her buckskins. From her bureau she got two large bath towels and her brush,‭ ‬which she stuffed into her shirt pocket. Then she walked outside,‭ ‬and down a narrow path through the forest.

Kes tried to make it her daily devotion to go down to the river and bathe before breakfast and dinner. She only did it during the summer months. During the winter,‭ ‬however,‭ ‬she would heat the water in a kettle and pour it into a washtub. Although there were hot springs in the Yggdrasil Wood, she no longer used them when she was informed of the Rules. New Residents to the Quinarth Rim Area were always told of the Rules, and usually, they obeyed them after they heard the numerous terrifying stories of people who had dared explored this dense wooded area after sunset.

“If yaouw should ever venture into the Yggdrasil Wood, keep ter the Lung Trail an' don’t goo too afar in an' avoid guin into the woods at noight.”

The Rule Informer happened to be a be a troll woman who went by the name of Madame Mosley. Although grotesquely ugly with a red face, a droopy nose like a bulbous, wart-covered squash and crooked yellowed teeth protruding over her wide lips, Kes listened with grave courtesy and did not flinch as the crone tore greedily at the food with long claw-like nails and slurped her tea noisily.

It was back in Feburary when Kes was first made aware of the rules. They were in the living room of Heron Manor. Many interesting things adorned the room--beautifully made clothing of sewn pelts and embroidery hung from the walls as well as the rafters, along with all kinds of ornamented objects. Numerous shelves were full of old books on plants and animal identification, carpentry and home improvement, woodcraft, bush-lore and trapping.

Kes took a sip of her tea and then heaved a deep sigh of disappointment.

“I guess going to those hot springs is out then,” she said gloomily, “since they’re way off that path.”

It was too bad since those hot springs were a good place to relax and to think without the outside world intruding in.

Madame Mosley shrugged her massive shoulders. “Well, there’s always the town pool, although it tends ter get a lickle crowded duren the summer.”

Kes frowned as she began filling her own lunch plate with some modest portions of roasted boar and stir-fried vegetables.

She hated the town pool with its harsh chlorine smell, the crowded locker room with so little privacy, the scrum of noisy kids running about ( some with very little bladder control), and the nosey people who constantly badgered her with probing questions--

''“Is Kes Allyntahl nearly your real name? It sounds more like an alias to me.”

“Are you an orphan? You seemed rather young to be off on your own.”

“Where on Relmar are your parents, gel?”

“Aren’t you afraid of living near a haunted location?”

“Why don’t you live closer to town? It’s much safer and more convenient.”

“Why do like living by yourself? Aren’t you afraid of wild animals or ghosts or the King of Freaks paying you a visit?”

“So...are you seeing anyone, right now?”

“Why don’t you like dogs?” ''

Kes sat herself back down in her chair. “You said there were two more rules?”

“Uh-huh,” said the troll woman, mopping the grease from her mouth. “You knoo that clearen where the trees bend completely awoy frum the center...as if shrinken in fear of summat unspeakable?”

“Yeah,” Kes muttered, feeling a slight chill.

“You knoo those big piles of stones around the center of the clearen, connected together with bolts an' anchor chains?”

“The ones where the chains seemed brand new and the rocks never had anything growing on them?”

“Yes, those things,” intoned Madame Mosley. “Don’t ever step between the chained crains...you knoo that big metal gate at the center of those stones.”

“Yeah, I always wonder about that,” muttered the perplexed Gerdin. “Why build a big gate without a big fancy mansion to go with it?”

“Accorden ter sum of the local legends that gate sits at the entry woy ter a deserted manor owse woy back in those well woods,”replied Madame Mosley darkly. “Back in the days of the aud courts, the'er was a gentry family of minor aristocrats who used ter own all this lan' eya. A lot of banquets an' gatheren went on at the place, with a lot of guests frum the royal court frum Waldalchia’s capital."

Kes took a forkful of stir-fried mushrooms.

“What was the family’s name?” she asked between chews.

“I believe they were called Chanterelle...”

“Oh, like the mushroom?” said Kes, nodding as she concentrated on her lunch.

“Yes, but these folk were mower loike the deadly, poisonous variety,”replied Madam Mosley darkly. “They were a haughty ruthless lot. all the common folk hated them; the chimeroids most all. the chimeroids were partially human an' were a well proud people. but the Chauterelles regarded them as nothen mower than servile beasts, lower than even a troll or human slave.

“Well, the War of the Courts came, an' loike so many noble familes, the Chanterelles were ruined by it. most doid off rather quickly after they lost much of their protectiv' magic, an' the tewthree that remained kept ter themselves in that aud dilapidated owse, too proud an' ashamed ter accept anny charity, the only sign of their existence were a tewthree aud servants comen ter town fer supploys.

“This went on till the spren of 1888 when an aud groundskeeper an' his missis came into town an' said that the remainen chanterelles weren’t the'er anny mower, that they all caggy 'un stormy noight wiouten given anny parten weared or explanation. the couple didn’t knoo where the family 'ad gone, but they were afraid ter stoy on the property themselves. Said even though the owse was supposed ter be empty, they were constantly plagued by the maddenen feelen that someone was constantly looken over their shoulder or waiten just around the corner of the hallwoy. At noight lief the sun set, they ood often heard someone prowlen outside their locked door, fumblen an' tuggen at the letch.

“The aud couple moight yav node who or what was roamen abart, but fear an' maybe family loyalty 'ad sealed their lips. people 'ad said that their remainen 'eass were spent in a crowded boarden owse an' they always kept a lamp burnen all noight lung with the doors locked an' blocked by sad furniture. “as fer the owse, nobody every bought it, an' it stood just as the lus caretakers 'ad caggy it--full of dust with cobwebs layen noggen yedded in the high ceilings an' shadowy corners...an' accorden ter the crows an' ravens who fly over the wood, it still stands with all its furnishen in place because folks around eya am much too scared ter stale everythen ert of it...even the rom an' tinkers gid it wide berth. I reckon it was aither 'un of those people who raised those cairns around the gate, ter act as both warnen beacons an' a protectiv' barrier.”

Madam Mosley sipped her tea thoughtfully while Kes watched her. “Folk around eya, don’t loike ter terk abart it, an' most visitors ter these parts don’t even knoo abart the Chanterelle Place, weege is a bostin chops because not only keepen mom on this legend keeps us frum been invaded by hundreds of noisy, obnoxious explorers an' thrill seekers, it keeps visitors frum fallen victim ter the Cuss.”

“Curse?” said Kes, pausing in mid-chew.

“Yeah,” said Madam Mosley gravely. “It’s widely believed that anyone who dares ter venture pus the Cairns ter stond in front of that Gate, wull be stricken with bad luck, illness an' even jeth under mysterious circumstances. supposedly that place claimed an untold number of lives over the lus 300 'eass.”

Kes blinked anxiously as she gulped down her food, “Oh, so no rain of frogs and fish then?”

“‘Fraid not,” Madam Mosley replied, setting down her now empty tea cup. She then delicately picked her teeth with her personal silver toothpick. “It’s a vicious cuss spawned by long-ago cruelty an' heartlessness, an' I hope it doesn’t cum true, fer yaw sek.”

“Uh, yeah, that would really depressing if it did,” Kes mumbled as she stared nervously at her plate.

Madam Mosley pursed her lips and furrowed her enormous brow. “Oh?” she said, staring hard at Kes. “You did goo up ter that Gate, did yaouw? perhaps yaouw thought yaouw cud just goo an' pick at the lock?”

Kes set down her fork. “No,” she said. “I didn’t do that. I went around the clearing instead.”

Madam Mosley looked startled. The toothpick slid from her droopy lips with a clatter. “But yaouw didn’t step between those chained stones...?”

Kes shook her head. “No, Madam,” she said. “I know something was very fishy with that place, got that creepy feeling people get when something bad was going to happen. Well, I soon found these pathways in back and tried to walk up them--”

“An' yaouw never seemed ter move forward?” said Madam Mosley, cutting her off. “No mater 'oo sound yaouw try an' naaa matter whichever path yaouw tek, yaouw never seem ter get anny closer ter the owse itself. you’re not the fust ter experience this odd phenomenon, since i’m naaa sorceress, I don’t rightfully knoo if it’s part of the cuss or if the'er am furder barriers weege prevent yaouw frum getten anny closer, but promise me yaouw keep well awoy frum those Stones an' Gate. the place isn’t fer the likes of liven folk loike us, but a place fer the jed...an' not the bostin honorable jed, but the dark twisted souls that don’t deserve a return ter loife an' rebirth.”

The troll held a huge, clawed hand with the pinkie stuck out. “Promise me you’ll poy heed ter those most important rules: if yaouw should ever venture into the Yggdrasil Wood, keep ter the Lung Trail an' don’t goo furder in.

“Don’t ever goo between those chained Crains an' don’t stond in front of the Gate. “don’t ever goo into the Yggdrasil Wood after sundown.”

Kes bit her lip as she wrapped her tiny pinkie around Madam Mosley’s salami-sized digit. “I promise to obey all the rules,” she managed to stammer out.

“Good,” Madam Mosley nodded approvingly as she released her firm grip. “Oh, by the woy...there’s also a fourth rule.

“Don’t ever open the door ter anyone late at noight, 'specially after the clock strikes twelve. naaa matter 'oo much they knock an' beg, don’t ever open the door.” 