A Quiet Time – A Fantasy Faire Story

The streets were quiet.
They had been quiet for days…
Days? No, Cerys’ foot nudged the drift of detritus forming a strange high tide line along the cracked pavement. It had been a good while longer than that.

The Midas Touch

Ishtar of Midas by Duchess Flux

As the sun baked down on Midas, the news spread like wildfire that Fantasy Faire exceeded their goal of 40K and surpassed it at 60K, thanks to an anonymous donor. Local chat was quickly filled with Fairefolk in celebration mode, and as tears of happiness streamed down my elven cheeks, we decided to do the next best thing. Shopping!

There are some incredible stores on the Midas Sim.  Kynne and I found ourselves in the deviousMind store and after much “Ooohing” and “Ahhhing” we settled on these gorgeous Ishara Snake Silks.

A Wandering Life

For some, a life apart was the only true way of living.

 

Never quite comfortable at the beginning, all things take some getting used to. Even ruts take time to wear in, furrows some time to plough. Some find comfort in the familiar, unaware of, or perhaps not caring about the wearing away and moulding they receive in return. The grit in the shoe, the twitching discomfort of muscle or soul, these plagued some past the point of forbearance. For better or worse, the pursuit of something ‘other’ had to begin.

Why I Relay

The words whispered through the lanes, rounded corners, and whistled through the leaves of the Shrine Tree.

 

Words of all languages, from all lands. From tongues long lost, their syllables faded from all worlds but this. Cries of pure sound, filled with meaning even before understanding speech. The murmured, the whispered, the silence of words only thought, or communicated by gesture, by touch. Their soft breeze gently nudged the lanterns hanging from every bough. Shouts, yells and screams shook the ground, sending showers of petals down from branches high above.

The Journey

“Come on down to the Faire,” they said.
“There are wonderous things to be seen.”
They hadn’t lied, there was more in this Tiny Town than met the eye, particularly at your eye level. The creatures which tended to make this Town their home were diminutive in stature, but certainly not in personality. Around you they crowded, each chattering away merrily, all encouraging the same thing. Not to remain safe in the town, but to venture further afield, to take on an adventure. To take on a quest. Who could resist such a challenge?

You were never one to shy away from a challenge, and this? Moving against a force as despicable as the unweaver… With your friend ever close by, cheering you on, you would answer this call. “Head north!” The first clues told. Strange creatures left behind, cheering and dancing, toasting the escapade with something they called ‘Wootberry Juice’, you had to wonder who you would meet along the way, and how this adventure would change the way you see the world, and yourself.

Escape from Bazaar Dungeon

Waking up in the darkness was disconcerting. Eyes open or closed, at first it didn’t matter. At first, it was hard to tell if there was any difference at all. It took a little time, then gradually, the edges began to appear. The texture of cold stone, warm stone, dank corners and humid halls opened into an expanse of darkness, thin violet light glinting from the foxed surface of a giant mirror. This had been the way into the dungeon realm; now the reflections betrayed no door nor even whomever stood before it, only the shifting forms of the guards.

The hunt for Purple Broccolino

 

In Severina it rained all the time. Dark clouds were a constant presence, scudding across the sky with the briefest glimpses of moonlight piercing their depths to illuminate the ground below. In this unique ecosystem, in the dark and the dank, strange beings flourished. It was one of these strange beings that Calle was hunting now…