Post by Vyn on Sept 7, 2008 13:03:01 GMT -5
Heh, part 1 of three Golfram Myths and Legends about The Swamp Witch. The second one will be a wonderful tale of the evil she has done in the swamp. Careful what you believe, though, because stories get all blown out of proportion<3
The third will actually be in character for Meecha and give you a more accurate view of everything Mr. Rat is yarning for the children. XD
Enjoy!
Author: Vyn
Characters: Various NPCs, Meecha (referenced)
Setting: Golfram Marsh
Word Count: 824
(Swamp Myths, The Swamp Witch - pt. 1)
An old Golfram rat sat in a musty bar, lean form hunched as he peered down at the group of children around. They were all snuggled up firm against each other, eyes big and curious. They had asked to hear the tale of the swamp witch again, and the old drunk with the bite taken out of his ear knew the story the very best.
"Once upon a time..." he started, voice rough with the abuse of smoke and alcohol. He took a few more swigs of his choice poison and cleared his throat, continuing with a crooked-tooth smile.
"Once upon a time, in a small village not far from here, there lived a family of Golfram Hamsters that were full of high ambitions for themselves and their daughters. They had been gifted with two beautiful daughters, born bipedal and human but both one a 10 and the other just a 7. Good numbers, though, and even better suits: Hearts."
The children gasped a little and the old rat grinned wide.
"Now one day dat li'l bipedal girl, Meecha was her name, she went out to play in the swamps as she oft'n did; lookin' cetch herself some of dem frogs an' crawdads dat she was always chasin'. Well, while she was scoutin' through the muck and da grime, she found herself somethin' more valuable than any amphibian she could've hoped for."
He went silent and the children all perked up, urging him onward with little pleadings of "what 'd she find?!".
"Dey say it was nuttin' more than a li'l black stone, all full of strange little cracks. Some say it was a magical rock, for the li'l girl she guarded it with fierce jealousy an' wouldn't let a single soul look upon it. Not a one. She hid it away for a long time, growin' more and more wild with the thought of people stealin' it away frum her. Worst of all, though, was her jealousy toward her sister who she already be bitter at from years of fallin' behind while her human sister advanced in her magics.
So one day, while her mom and pop were out at the Market, li'l Meecha finally snapped."
The old rat clapped his hands together as he spoke the final word, causing the children to jump and gasp before breaking into fits of giggles and hunkering down once more to allow him to continue.
"When her parents came home, dere was nothin' left of their little human girl. Meecha had gone and killed her, splattering the pretty little thing all over the living room and when her parents found her, they say she'd been eatin' what was left of her." A group shudder went through the children, but the rat went on without pause. "In a fury they chased their one precious li'l girl from da house, banishin' her out into the swamp where she disappeared an' was never seen again."
Now his voice lowered to a whisper, his eyes shining in the light cast from the fire.
"Now, da story does continue...for evil things like dat don't just die. Dey say she lives on out dere, deep in da swamp where no one ever travels an' not even da most talented of guides dare travel.
She's made her home out dere, in a li'l hut where she practices her spells an' uses 'em on trespassers dat she doesn't deem worthy of eatin' on da spot. It even goes to say dat from time to time she ventures out of her hut into da local towns to look for ingredients in her wicked spells."
Suddenly a little boy stood up, a small golfram fox. His whiskers quivered and his whole body shook, but he tried to look big and bold when he spoke. "She ain't never caught no body, though! Or we'd be hearin' stories about that!" His ears shrank back against his head and he furrowed his brow a little. "Right?"
The old rat just laughed, tipping his head back to chortle in his drunken amusement at the boy's statement. When he contained his laughter he hunkered down again, eyes bright.
"Of course she's caught people, boy! Plenty of 'em! People dat go out into da swamp an' never come back. It ain't the swamp that eats 'em boy, it be Meecha Grimes! Dead men tell no tales, lad! Dat's why dere aren't any!" He chortled again before turning somber quite suddenly. "An' dose dat get away. Dey never be the same. Haunted by misfortune's unfriendly kiss until da day dey die!" Absently his hand went to his large ear, feelin' the chunk that was missing with a curious longing in his eye.
The children all shuddered and whispered among themselves, but the old rat wasn't listening anymore. He tilted his head a little to the side and scowled fiercely. "Run along, chilluns! Story time be over fer today! Maybe next time I'll be in a more willin' to tell ya tales of what dat swamp hag cen really do!"
The third will actually be in character for Meecha and give you a more accurate view of everything Mr. Rat is yarning for the children. XD
Enjoy!
Author: Vyn
Characters: Various NPCs, Meecha (referenced)
Setting: Golfram Marsh
Word Count: 824
(Swamp Myths, The Swamp Witch - pt. 1)
An old Golfram rat sat in a musty bar, lean form hunched as he peered down at the group of children around. They were all snuggled up firm against each other, eyes big and curious. They had asked to hear the tale of the swamp witch again, and the old drunk with the bite taken out of his ear knew the story the very best.
"Once upon a time..." he started, voice rough with the abuse of smoke and alcohol. He took a few more swigs of his choice poison and cleared his throat, continuing with a crooked-tooth smile.
"Once upon a time, in a small village not far from here, there lived a family of Golfram Hamsters that were full of high ambitions for themselves and their daughters. They had been gifted with two beautiful daughters, born bipedal and human but both one a 10 and the other just a 7. Good numbers, though, and even better suits: Hearts."
The children gasped a little and the old rat grinned wide.
"Now one day dat li'l bipedal girl, Meecha was her name, she went out to play in the swamps as she oft'n did; lookin' cetch herself some of dem frogs an' crawdads dat she was always chasin'. Well, while she was scoutin' through the muck and da grime, she found herself somethin' more valuable than any amphibian she could've hoped for."
He went silent and the children all perked up, urging him onward with little pleadings of "what 'd she find?!".
"Dey say it was nuttin' more than a li'l black stone, all full of strange little cracks. Some say it was a magical rock, for the li'l girl she guarded it with fierce jealousy an' wouldn't let a single soul look upon it. Not a one. She hid it away for a long time, growin' more and more wild with the thought of people stealin' it away frum her. Worst of all, though, was her jealousy toward her sister who she already be bitter at from years of fallin' behind while her human sister advanced in her magics.
So one day, while her mom and pop were out at the Market, li'l Meecha finally snapped."
The old rat clapped his hands together as he spoke the final word, causing the children to jump and gasp before breaking into fits of giggles and hunkering down once more to allow him to continue.
"When her parents came home, dere was nothin' left of their little human girl. Meecha had gone and killed her, splattering the pretty little thing all over the living room and when her parents found her, they say she'd been eatin' what was left of her." A group shudder went through the children, but the rat went on without pause. "In a fury they chased their one precious li'l girl from da house, banishin' her out into the swamp where she disappeared an' was never seen again."
Now his voice lowered to a whisper, his eyes shining in the light cast from the fire.
"Now, da story does continue...for evil things like dat don't just die. Dey say she lives on out dere, deep in da swamp where no one ever travels an' not even da most talented of guides dare travel.
She's made her home out dere, in a li'l hut where she practices her spells an' uses 'em on trespassers dat she doesn't deem worthy of eatin' on da spot. It even goes to say dat from time to time she ventures out of her hut into da local towns to look for ingredients in her wicked spells."
Suddenly a little boy stood up, a small golfram fox. His whiskers quivered and his whole body shook, but he tried to look big and bold when he spoke. "She ain't never caught no body, though! Or we'd be hearin' stories about that!" His ears shrank back against his head and he furrowed his brow a little. "Right?"
The old rat just laughed, tipping his head back to chortle in his drunken amusement at the boy's statement. When he contained his laughter he hunkered down again, eyes bright.
"Of course she's caught people, boy! Plenty of 'em! People dat go out into da swamp an' never come back. It ain't the swamp that eats 'em boy, it be Meecha Grimes! Dead men tell no tales, lad! Dat's why dere aren't any!" He chortled again before turning somber quite suddenly. "An' dose dat get away. Dey never be the same. Haunted by misfortune's unfriendly kiss until da day dey die!" Absently his hand went to his large ear, feelin' the chunk that was missing with a curious longing in his eye.
The children all shuddered and whispered among themselves, but the old rat wasn't listening anymore. He tilted his head a little to the side and scowled fiercely. "Run along, chilluns! Story time be over fer today! Maybe next time I'll be in a more willin' to tell ya tales of what dat swamp hag cen really do!"
