Over the last week, Fairelanders have been joining tours of individual lands and telling stories about them. These we will be preserving on this website – and some will be made into special tales to be recorded for Fantasy Faire radio. We’re also going to share some of these stories here, starting with Tales from Mudrana.
A Story from Mudrana
It was a big frog to be sure …
Well, that was an understatement. It was HUGE! And Fidget was having third and fourth thoughts about her plan.
Still, if she wanted to ride the dragonflies, she had to get to them. And to get to them, well a particular kind of Dinkie bravery was required.
Taking a deep breath; whiskers a-quiver, she put one paw in front of the other and began the climb.
A steady drone of noise from the frogs and the flying things played in her ears … helping to steady her focus on the green slimey moss that was growing on the surface of the godfrog statue.
Wafting up from the purple-centered blooms was a delicate fruity scent, while the yellow-centered blooms on the other side had a kind of mineral quality to their sniff.
She was fortunate in that — because if either one of them had smelled of chocolate or bacon … well! Climbing would have been an impossibility.
So up, and up, and up, and up, and up she went …
And at just that moment, the lands began to quake, the HUGE godfrog began swaying … was it a katastrophy for our brave Dinkie?
Some blame it on a monster they call Lag. Others blame it on something called Knew Servers.
And if you want to hear the rest? My deary … you’ll have to ask her yourself! I suggest you lay down a trail of gummi worms to draw her attention.
The Perils of Youth: a Tale of Mudrana
by Lyr Lobo, aka Cynthia Calongne
Fantasy Faire 2017
“Come back here!” Esme said, her roar sounding fierce.
Mynx knew better than to stop. She knew Esme would follow, but at a snail’s pace. Instead, her gaze drifted to the lilies where the light twinkled, a strange haze that drew her deeper.
She danced across the lilypods, feeling them shift in the water as her feet dashed over them. The leaves swayed, displaying wee frogs that stared as she danced past. They croaked a song unfamiliar to her.
The lilypods rose to form a graceful trail, lining the hill. A distant light flashed above them, beckoning her to draw near. Mesmerized, she took a few steps, only to snap out of her reverie as Esme called to her.
“Do not go up that hill without me. Mynx! I’m warning you. I’m going home if you don’t slow down this instant!”
Unwilling to go alone, Mynx turned to wait for her. Exasperation fueled her next words.
“Getting too fat to catch me, Esme?” she said, glancing back to see if it worked. She knew how to goad her. They were childhood friends, approaching the edge of womanhood, which took a lot longer than they would admit. Feminine and at the brink of their power, the two girls couldn’t be more different.
Mynx was tall, athletic and strong. She looked good, but her tomboy ways kept interested parties at bay. In contrast, Esme was luscious, a ripening peach that turned many a head. It was only her hesitant manner, fed by a lack of confidence that made would be suitors pass her by.
Mynx stamped her foot as she watched Esme tiptoe from one lilypod to the next. Her gait resembled an old woman, cautious as she stepped onto one and tapped the next with her toe, testing to see if it would hold her weight. This was going to take all day!
“Come on, already. They’re safe. I ran over them, fast as I could! You can do it!” Mynx said, growling.
Esme frowned as she inspected the next pod, tapping it with one foot on it before shifting her weight to test it.
“Oh my sweet beehive, at this rate, it will take forever!” said Mynx, growling. “I’m not going to wait much longer.”
As Esme stepped on the next lilypod, a frog jumped, landing next to her. “Ribbit,” said the frog, his eyes bulging. He wore a fancy vest and a top hat, but Mynx saw that his lower half was bare.
Mynx’s eyes narrowed, not due to the roguish frog. She saw her friend fall on her backside, landing hard on the leaf as it rolled beneath her. The side she sat on dipped low into the water. Esme clung to it as her foot kicked against the water.
“Dashed plucky frogs,” Mynx snarled under her breath before hollering, “Come on already. Quit fooling around and get up here!”
It must have worked. Esme prodded the frog with her toe, nudging at his belly, but her foot slipped from its target and landed in his crotch.
“Ribbit!” said the frog, roaring in pain as he retreated to the next pad.
Esme knelt on one knee, preparing to stand. She cried out as she slipped, the water splashed around her, making the leaf slippery. She lost her grip and slid toward the water.
The frog’s tongue whipped out and snapped around her ankle. He yanked her back onto the lilypod as she shrieked and kicked at him.
“Ow!” said the Frog as he tugged with his tongue, dragging Esme flat on her face. Alarmed, Esme cried out as she rolled over and kicked at him.
“Get off of me,” she hollered.
Mynx, fearing for her friend, broke her disguise and snapped open her wings. She flew fast, swooping at the maligned frog, who yanked back his sticky tongue, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. Any other time, she would have enjoyed the sight, but Esme let out another cry.
Her placid friend lost her grip on the slippery lilypod and slipped from into the water.
Mynx flew fast, grabbing her by the ankle as Esme’s head dipped under the water. She strained she flew, her wings beating fast. Her friend was no dainty miss dry, she thought as she struggled to carry her wet friend.
They flew up to the summit of the rise, where Mynx dropped Esme onto the grassy hill.
“Ow!” said Esme, turning to glare at her.
Mynx fluttered to the ground, coiling her wings back into their hiding place. She sat down next to her friend and let her toes wiggle in the soft, strange grass that twitched as she settled onto it. The scene played across her mind, and a laugh escaped her.
Esme friend gaped at her. “How can you laugh?” Esme looked so bedraggled that Mynx let out a roar of laughter. The once beautiful curls were dripping wet, and a wet leaf stuck to Esme’s eyebrow.
“It’s not funny,” said Esme, shaking the wet curls out of her face.
“Oh, but it is. Your frog prince came to your rescue. What did you do? You kicked him. And not in a good way.”
“You sure did. Whatever hope he had for a family is now a thing of the past.” Mynx laughed so hard that tears formed at the corners of her eyes.
They sat back, dazed by the mishap. After a few moments, Esme grinned.
Behind her, Mynx noticed the hapless frog hopping up the path. Her giggles grew as she caught sight of his soggy top hat.
He announced to no one in particular.
“Fine. This is the thanks I get — a swift kick in the unmentionables followed by whiplash of the tongue. Females! You’ll be the death of me,” said the frog, gesturing at them with his cane.
A deep rumble shook the ground beneath them. The hill pitched and rolled as it drew back. Mynx grabbed Esme with her right hand and buried the frog under the crook of her arm, ignoring their protests. She took to the air, her wings straining to elude the new threat.
The ground rolled back as two eyes, one green and one blue, stared at them. The frog in her arms squirmed, his little feet kicking at her arm as he tried to jump.
“I am alive,” said the Frog King, his voice reverberating as he wiggled a sticky tongue at them.