Vashtya
Tipsy Hoarder
Sarano_Krem
Feral Knight
13,615 Points
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50
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400
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100
Amizade
Phantom
Matope
Matope
Another contest judged! Without any fancy lead-in, our winners:
Moonstone Dazzle
Hush! Hush. You must be quiet if I am going to tell you this tale. This story upsets me- turns my stomach, makes me ill. I will not tell it to you again. Only once. That is all I am able.
You must be quiet, so you will hear it all.
This story I have heard since I was young. My mother, and her mother before her, have warned their children of The Mother.
No one knows if she is Acha or Kin. No one has lived long enough to tell. She is tall, and thin, and has a hungry look in her eye. You are not to trust her, no matter what! This is the most important. She will bat her eyelashes, plead with her silvery voice, and you must not listen.
She comes when you are tired, when you are alone. She is not menacing, no. You want to take care of her, to love her. She is so frail, how could you not? Shelter for a night, that is all she asks. And you welcome her. It is cold, and it is raining- how could you say no? There is plenty of room in the cave. And she thanks you, assures she will be no trouble. Makes certain you are fine.
How is your family? Your parents? …You have not spoken to them lately? What a shame. You seem such a good child. Letting in such a poor, frail soul. These are the things which she tells you. So unassuming, so soft and kind. You cannot help but trust her. She is so loving, how could you not?
Why, you ask her? Why are you wandering out by yourself? And here is where it begins.
She will cry. It will be a raucous, howling sound, and she will be pained. Down to your core, you will know her pain. And you will comfort her, being the good child you are.
Once, she had children. A lover. They were, the whole of them, inseparable. Traveled the swamps together, seeing the world. It was such a lovely adventure, learning the world and seeing all the sights. Who would pass on such an opportunity? Life was so good, so wonderful.
But there was a storm, you see. A great and terrible storm that shook the trees and scorched the earth. One of their foals did not survive the floods. But one did- their daughter. Mother and daughter were lost, trapped beneath the earth. Her lover had tried, tried so hard to dig them free. But the soil did not budge, and the logs did not give.
I will be back, he promised. I will be back.
In the pouring rains, they waited. Minutes turned to hours, turned to days. Her daughter cried. Wailed against the rains, endlessly. I am so hungry, mother. Where is father? I am so hungry!
But there was no answer.
As the strength of the rains grew, so did her daughter’s cries. And finally, she could take no more. The mother did not even bother killing the filly, first. Her teeth, not fit to cutting, dug into her daughter’s flesh and tore.
The cries were finally silent.
When the father returned, he had found help. They dug up the logs, freed the soil, and pulled up the mother. But there was something wrong. There was a look in her eyes, hollowed and empty. The father asked, wondered where their daughter was.
She was ashamed, of course. Ruined by what she had done. A mother was not supposed to let harm befall her young, ever. It was her duty to protect them. And she sobbed, and sobbed, and the group there assembled knew she had lost her mind.
For her crime, they exiled her. The madness would be what killed her, they said. At least, that is what they said at first. But when they slowly disappeared- leaving piles of bones- the comments started changing.
The Mother, they began to call her. She would take your young in the night and devour them. Keep them close, don’t let them wander.
What does this have to do with you, you ask? And she smiles, leaning in close. I am so, so hungry, she murmurs sweetly. And that is the last you will hear.
So please, sweet child. Be careful at night, when strangers come to your den. When you are alone, and the moon is high, be watchful of who you welcome in.
…Oh! I forgot to say, my dear child. Thank you for welcoming me into your den this evening. I've been ever so lost, and ever so hungry.
Blinded By Silence
"The moon sleeps tonight," the tall buck said, his voice grave and distant to the little filly that played by his feet, "You best sleep close to your mother tonight, little one. And with one eye open, at that."
"Why?" Asked the filly, curious as all children are.
"Because, my dear, that is when the Mirror Poole appears. Have you not heard the tale?" The buck asked, a hint of worry in his voice. The little doe settled, eyes widening, ever waiting, as they always are.
"Well, sit close, child, and listen well. I dare not repeat this too loudly, lest they hear..."
When the moon shuts its one great eye and disappears from the night, it appears. The Moon Poole; a dark little pond with water so dark, so utterly still, it reflects back a perfect image. It glows faintly despite the lack of moonlight, and the air around it is dead, cold... No matter the season. No birds sing, no frogs croak. The Poole sits silently, waiting for a wandering fool to gaze into its depths...
"What happens then?" The filly interrupted, to his displeasure. They always did.
When a kin meets their own reflection in the Mirror Poole, a strange, weird magic happens. Your head fills with a mystic spell and tumbles from your mouth without you telling it. And as you chant in a monotonous tone, you watch as your eyes bleed from blue or green or which ever they are into the same reflecting black that gave the Poole its name.
"And the spell? What's that?" Again spoke the filly. But this time, he fought to hide a grin. She was hooked now, as they always became.
"And into her own reflection she stared. Yearning for one who's image she shared. Trying so hard not to be scared--"
"At the prospect of being doubly mared..." The filly whispered, terrified that she knew what she had never heard. Her eyes so wide, he could lose himself in them. And he would. He always did. He grinned now, unhindered.
And when the spell is complete, the two change places. The reflection on the shore and the kin trapped beneath the stillness of the surface, staring back, wide eyed and scared. The reflection knows all you did, speaks as you did, moves as you did. No one could tell the difference if it was not for the glassy black eyes that had replaced your own. But that's no matter, your body is hers now, and no one will be around long enough to comment. They're jealous they are, the souls the Poole traps, of the lives we lead and the freedom we have. And so, in their icy, silent rage, they steal everything that you ever loved. Your parents, dead by your hooves; your home, tattered and empty. And when the sun finally rises on that bloody morning...
He looked down at her, his eyes huge, glassy and black as the dead of night, and grinned a slow, dark grin.
"No one will remember who you ever were."
Amorpheous
she asked me, "mother,
why don't we eat their hearts?
not I nor father nor brother?
why when we eat all other parts?"
she looked at me and leaned
closer and closer as I whispered
"to eat their hearts is to be a fiend"
the air around us blistered
with the knowledge of a terror
that she did not know yet
why we must all be the bearer
of this story at night set.
"once long ago, there was doe
who walked the swamp with grace.
she laughed and sang and had no foe
she was the one they would chase.
but beauty is not eternal, no it fades.
she watched her allure melt away
like snow under the sun with no shade.
too soon, she thought, so she found a way.
a way to keep her limbs light and young,
her voice smooth and alluring.
she ate the hearts of birds as they sung,
hiding her ugliness with blood, so obscuring.
but soon these hearts turned her teeth dark
and stained her eyes with blood,
her spirit no longer held a firefly's spark.
she lost her will and was pulled into the mudd.
she still walks the swamp today
hungry, vile, and cruel
searching for the young hearts to pay
the price for eternity, and hence our rule:
never eat the hearts of birds
or any creature to be sure.
for if you don't listen to my words,
you'll be caught with no cure."
"mother, mother, where do the hearts go?"
she asked so innocent and young.
with bloody teeth I smiled at her just so,
and a scream from out of her I wrung.
Ruriska
“It’s really quite easy,” the doe was saying as he woke up. She had clearly been talking like this for a while despite an unconscious audience. “As long as you have the right state of mind. Determination and dedication, those are the keys.”
Confused, the buck slowly became aware of the dead weight of his body. Only his head would move at his command, and then only slightly.
“Poison,” the doe explained cheerfully as if reading his thoughts. Her voice floated to him as she moved from his limited field of vision. “It’s wearing off now but will last until we’re done here.”
Done with what? The words ran through his mind and stopped on his tongue.
“The First Son was born of the MotherFather’s sweat, as she toiled and created the swamp. He was brilliant, his hooves pounding out the safe places. He is what the good aspire to become.” She grunted and he heard something being dragged across the earth. “The Second Son slid out from her eye like a bloody tear. He is merciless for he is the dark places and knows nothing but greed.”
She doe reappeared, looking pleased.
“Two innocents. Those are the first two ingredients. Easy to get. Nobody watches out for their foals these days. Such a shame. The first must swallow the water, the second must be embraced by earth.”
He finally managed to turn his head enough to see the two small bodies, one sodden and the second still tangled in strangling vines.
“The First Son was meant to lead us to utopia. He would make the Swamp a home without pain or suffering. But the Second Son would have no place there and he rose up and tore out the throat of his brother!” Her voice rose to a delighted shriek. “That is why we include the wolf- you can’t see him, he’s behind you. He represents the First Son and must be treated accordingly.”
The buck closed his eyes to escape the horror and when he opened them; her face was an inch from his.
“Don’t sleep yet.”
She pranced away and he watched as she pulled the limp body of one foal closer until it was resting against his side. A sob ran through him and was caught in his throat.
“The MotherFather saw what had been done and she cast her Second Son down into the depths, where he would have no form.” The doe giggled in his ear. “Four cranes, one for each direction, to blind the MotherFather’s eye.”
Her felt her sigh brush his hair. “The last is tricky. The willing sacrifice. Then the Second Son will rise again, for one night he will run through the Swamp, taking his fill, until the MotherFather sends him down once more. Glorious. Glorious. If only I could watch…”
He heard her hiss and something warm splattered across his face and ran down his nose. It pooled around his head and leaked into his eyes. The doe’s body slumped against his, sliding until her head lay beside his own.
His horns, he realised. She’d cut her own throat on his horns.
He laughed in revulsion, finally capable of speech... and as he rose to his hooves, he knew no more. The Second Son was reborn.
….
…..
……….
The huddle of young kin were very quiet after the story, each casting sly glances at each other.
“Is it real?” one finally asked.
“Of course not,” another scoffed a little too loudly.
“I’ve seen it,” said a third, her face pale.
The rest turned to stare at her.
“I’ve seen a place like that. With the cranes and the… and the little… the poor foals…”
“Liar,” said the second speaker.
Again they fell quiet, each inching a little bit closer to their companions.
A howl rang out through the night, only to be violently cut off, as if the beast had just had its throat ripped out.
“Just a story.” The second kin whispered. "It's just a story."
SerinaNight
The doe paced quietly in front of the group. "Ready to hear a story? It is rather scary." She added, almost teasingly. Several members of the herd rolled their eyes, others simply nodded. A comment or two was also heard before it was shushed down.
"Well, the story starts just like any other night. A lone kimeti walks through the swamp in darkness, not an uncommon occurrence, when he notices something strange. The glow of the moon seems brighter, and wider then before. He thinks nothing of it. He keeps walking. After some time he notices the glow is even wider, and is beginning to stretch down to the trees. Slightly disturbed, but once again choosing to ignore it he keeps going. Unable to control his glance, he looks again. It's moved all the way from the moon to the swamp, and it covers part of the sky behind him. This large figure can no longer be a trick of the eye. The kimeti stares in awe, for what he sees The Moonlight Mother. Now, you see-
While most of the herd sit quietly, and listen with either vague interest or rapt attention, one of the bucks seems to be thinking. As the doe goes to continue her story, he interrupts, almost unintentionally. "I've seen that before." The rest of the kin pause, oddly worried and fearful looks on their faces. "The Moonlight Mother. I've seen that before."
"That's not possible." The doe says, looking unnerved. "You wouldn't be here." She continues the rest of the story, quickly.
"When you see The Moonlight Mother, eventually you will no longer be able to stop, and then she'll slowly devour everything around you, filling your vision with whiteness until you can see no longer. She takes your soul and makes you her child. You are doomed to wander for eternity, looking for her warm embrace, but seeing nothing!"
"How could you have seen her?" She asks again, this time her worry almost making her sound angry at the buck. "If you had seen her, your soul would have been eaten, and you wouldn't be here!" The doe sounds tearful, this story is obviously something that quite disturbs her.
"I didn't realize what it was." The buck says, shrugging. "I saw the moon expanding, and fell asleep watching it. I felt warm, as though I was being held during the night, but when I awoke there was nothing." He smiles, trying to comfort the now almost crying doe. "If I had known at the time, I might have been more worried, but I was rather tired."
The doe berating the buck for his stupidity, and his attempts to calm her, stop any other talk of The Moonlight Mother, though when it's time to sleep it is quite sure they will think of her, and the strange story they heard that night.
Matope
BUT FEAR NOT, those of you who didn't win, there's a new opportunity to get your hands on some sweet spiders...
TRICK OR TREAT, SMELL MY FEET, FIND ME SOMETHING TASTY TO EAT.
Each of these spiders has been hidden in a thread related to Matope -- both event threads and threads in the guild! They're scattered in five different locations.
All you have to do is find them, and when you do, execute the tasks that the spiders give you!
If you want a place to start, here are some hints to help you find these creepy crawlers:
Originally this event was going to last only the weekend;
now it will go until the end of the event,10pm EST on Oct 31.
Matope
TRICK OR TREAT, SMELL MY FEET, FIND ME SOMETHING TASTY TO EAT.
Each of these spiders has been hidden in a thread related to Matope -- both event threads and threads in the guild! They're scattered in five different locations.
All you have to do is find them, and when you do, execute the tasks that the spiders give you!
If you want a place to start, here are some hints to help you find these creepy crawlers:
- Indulge in some spooky storytelling.
About a year ago, we introduced a new species...
Take a look at the first time we ever gave away kin.
Someone's Autumn generosity is coming around a second time.
Give us some love, and you might get some too!
Originally this event was going to last only the weekend;
now it will go until the end of the event,10pm EST on Oct 31.
Tiarana
Dangerous Lover
Vashtya
Tipsy Hoarder
Sinbari
Handsome Reveler
17,550 Points
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50
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200
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200
Amorpheous
Human Human
SerinaNight
Feline Rogue
11,325 Points
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100
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100
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175
SerinaNight
Feline Rogue
11,325 Points
-
100
-
100
-
175