Bubo Owls – Storytime
The Bubo and the Mouse
by Freya Ruebens
Now, it is said that not long ago, only Goblins knew how to work on the engines. They were crafted to work with aetheric crystals and no one else knew how it was done. But when things exploded, literally, there was a breakdown of communication and they stopped working together.
So the Goblins began their feud and Tensors Flying market started to get just a little broken. They each needed items that only the other Goblin tribes had access to and they didn’t trust anyone with it. So when an engine failed it often took them months to repair it!
Then, one day, a small mouse found his way into one of the broken engines. The little mouse was just curious, and he snuck into the machine to get a good look at it. He spent hours lost inside the inner workings of the machine, and for a mouse that can be days without eating! When he finally got out he was exhausted, but he had discovered what was broken.
He was too small to repair it himself, but he knew of a child who had been lost in the Fairelands and was wandering the market. The mouse found him, after partaking in a bit of goblin fruit, and convinced the child to follow him and help repair the engine. The child was hungry, and did not know how to use tools very well, but the mouse promised the child that if he followed his lead the mouse could teach him.
The child did as he was told, dangling perilously from the scaffolds, but with the courage of youth he was able to fix the machine with the mouses help. As it roared back to life the child nearly fell to his doom, but he landed safely on the edge of the scaffold and crawled back up!
The goblins heard what the child had done, and thought that he had uncovered their secrets. For a time they were talking about locking him away for stealing their secrets, but none could prove the child had done any such thing. More, he had saved them a lot of trouble and being forced to work together.
The lad was soon running errands between the three factions, and eventually learning many of their secrets with the help of the mouse and their own generosity for his assistance. Eventually, he learned enough from them that he was able to fashion a set of wings that the Bubo’s use today and never threatened to fall to his doom again.
And so the Bubo’s remember the mouse and the lost boy who became an Owl, our forgotten heroes who earned us a place here though we do not remember the homes we had before.
Lets us raise a hoot in their memory!
A Game of Tafl
by Strifeclaw Guardian of the Earth Stone
Once upon a time, there was an island so powerful that even the Unweaver and his armies perceived it as a terrible threat. The technology it heralded and the power locked within was one that he needed to seal away forever. Thus he had readied his armies to mount an assault, but he knew that attacking directly would be unwise.
There was a powerful enchantress who held the key to the city’s barriers and its greatest defenses. She had long kept the city safe from threats without and grew confident in her ability to plan and strategize. The enchantress believed none could ever defeat her in a duel of wits and she never lost a game.
One day she received a challenge from an elven king who claimed he could defeat her in a duel of wits. Though she knew this king had a wicked reputation she accepted the challenge, and demanded to know the game. It would be a game of Tafl, which she had mastered decades before.
She met with the elven king outside the city who greeted her warmly with his retinue behind him, but she did not return his niceties. She wanted to get to the challenge right away.
That was when she heard of the Unweaver’s army moving on the city. It was hours away, and she was needed back in the city.
The elven king nodded, but did say that he would claim victory if she departed as he was the only one who had moved so far.
The enchantress refused to admit defeat, even with an army on the way. Confident that she could defeat him quickly, she played her first move. It was soon apparent that the elven king was good at the game, but she was better. Eventually, hours later, she had emerged the victor.
“I have beaten you at your game of wits, King. And now you and your people will never have power over mine.” For she had heard of the magic of games, and suspected the elven king would be bound by his defeat.
“Did I lose the game of wits, child?” The elf king looked at her confused. “You are the one who was tricked into abandoning your city in its time of need.”
And as she turned back to her city, she saw that the Unweavers forces were coming around the corner, faster than she could possibly have returned to the city. The enchantress, feeling wretched, felt her only recourse was to fall on the sword of her enemy as a way to make amends for her foolishness.
Her spirit wanders, still shrieking about her failure, and her last game of Tafl that destroyed her life, and her home.
Related by Loki Eliot
I been listening to those who come by and trade, the merchants they do talk a lot of stuff and nonsense.
My favorite times are when they gather around a fire and tells tales, and i sit the other side of the walls to hear them.
One story i recently heard was about the some of the adventures Goblins had when mining underground for the crystals that power this place.
The tale starts deep underground as the goblins dig deeper and deeper.
Eventually the Goblins stop as they know better than to dig to deep.
‘No, No, here we stop, or risk awakening the Tommyknock”
So all the Goblins picked up their tools and headed for the surface.
That is except for one goblin by the name of Nipdip.
He was a clever goblin and had invented a marvelous machine that could drill down further than any goblin had gone before.
“No, No, here we stop,” pleaded the other goblins, “or risk awakening the Tommyknock”
But Nipdip said “do not be daft, those old folk tales are told just for a laugh.”
So Nipdip set to work and his machine drilled down and down while his goblin companions pleaded down the hole…
“No, No, here we stop or risk awakening the Tommyknock”
Yet Nipdip kept on digging down until he could no longer hear the other goblins above.
And then suddenly the drill broke through into a massive chamber and stopped.
Nipdip saw a room full of crystals shining in his lamp light.
“Ho, ho, here i stop and no sign of a Tommyknock”
Nipdip called down his goblin chums and together they started digging the crystals.
But as they filled their carts, there came a sound from the walls…
knock, knock… knock…. KNOCK
Suddenly dark shadows came from the walls and surrounded the goblins.
The creatures where small, as small as could be , but their shadows did creep up the walls as tall as a giant.
And they spoke in one voice together, and it did boom in fierce tone ringing in those goblins ears…
“KNOCK , KNOCK, HERE YOU WILL STOP, AS YOU HAVE AWAKENED THE TOMMYKNOCK!”
Goblins ran here, and Goblins ran there, as the Tommyknocks grabbed legs and arms and dragged them into the dark cracks in the rocky walls.
Only a handful of Goblins managed to reach the surface which included Nipdip and in doing so, set the mine entrance to collapse into the sea.
Returning to Tensor Nipdip was held to account and banished from he flying market.
Some say he roams the else Fairelands murmuring the words…
“No, No, here we stop or risk awakening the Tommyknock”
The Forsaken Mer,
Related by Strifeclaw Guardian of the Earth Stone
Gather around everyone, for the tale I must tell is one filled with warning and tragedy.
It is a tale not for the faint at heart.
It is the tale of the loneliest creature in the world…
In ages past, there was a fair mermaid in possession of a powerful blue crystal she kept on a bracelet. Her brother and sisters were all assigned great tasks, but hers was to sing every day, on rocks jutting out from a beach, with her crystal shining brightly in the sun.
As long as she sang a happy song the waves were calm and peaceful. Hurricanes quited to minor storms as they passed her leaving the people she protected unscathed.
But one day, a goblin powered only be greed kidnapped her and separated her from the sea. The poor mer suffered as she was not strong enough to fight her captors when she was on dry land.
She trembled in growing fear as they openly wondered how she would taste cooked over a hot flame.
As she despaired, her prayers appeared to be answered as a charismatic figure appeared before the Goblins. Though he was too spindly for a great knight; he was dressed as a hero, with a sword at his side as well as a flute and a lute resting upon his back.
He saw her plight and challenged the Goblins for her and other captives to be released to him. As the Goblins snarled and tried to think of an impossible challenge, taking the heroic figure prisoner as well, their camp was attacked by a group of young warriors.
The Goblins were defeated and the merchild freed. But she never forgot the dashing figure who had tried to save her first, and alone.
He visited with her on the rocks several times, joining her song with his own and the days of peaceful seas stretched on though they had been troubled a short time.
One day, the charismatic gentleman asked if the crystal only worked for her, or if anyone could sing through it. She foolishly admitted that anyone could use it if they bore it, or with her permission.
He asked, with a demeanor of humbleness that disarmed her, if he could try to sing a song through it. She agreed, taken in by the dashing rogue.
His song was powerful, more so than she had ever imagined, and she was soon screaming in horror at what he was doing.
Her scream trailed off from any ear that could hear as the Barde King revealed himself to her. He mockingly told her that her voice was now bound, set to an octave so high that no mortal creature could hear it. No whale, no mer, none could feel the vibrations of her voice in the water and few on the land could hear her either. She spoke but it might as well have been silence to the world around her.
The Barde King kidnapped the girl, and threw her into the ocean randomly where she could not be found by allies easily seeking to soothe her woe. And worse she lost her sense of direction, for she too found everything through the sound of vibration through her voice.
She wandered the oceans in misery, her song becoming sadder though she herself could not hear it. The seas became mournful, bitter, and storms crashed against the people she was meant to protect.
She still swims, desperate to find her family, her people, but to no avail.
She is lost…she is now possibly…the loneliest creature in the world.
My warning, children, is to Beware the Barde King. Do not fall for his false smiles, beguiling charms, or his treacherous songs. He grows powerful on tragedies. And forgotten stories that appear only in his Worde Horde gives him untold power over all.
But there is some hope…I can hear the song on a beach sometimes, but I am of the Earth and can only go so far into the shallows before I must turn back.
But I have heard this song…and so can others. I know her story, and now you know I charge you to remember as well.
Remember the Barde King and the Forlorn Mer. Because as long as the story is known the Barde King has not fully won. She may be saved…one day.
Her own hope weeps quietly in the dark, dying, as she believes her story unheard…
Related by Cale Firesong, Guardian of the Fire Stone
My story does not take place a long long time ago, nor does it take place far far away. In a Faire realm that had been threatened by shadows, I and most of the other guardians had been kidnapped and nearly drained of our powers by…’goblins’. The shadow goblins nearly controlled all four elements here in the Faire.
The shadows failed to take the Earth Guardian, and other heroes arose to fight and save us. In the end we were saved by good will among all the Fairelanders, for which I was grateful. But something had happened to me. Me, and the Guardian of the Water stone had been held for days while those dedicated to shadow drained and tormented us. We were both weakened, and listened too closely to those we knew not were our enemies.
A tall fellow with ashen features had come to bargain for our freedom, and so he had won my trust. He sang me songs I had never heard before to cheer my suffering. One of his tales was of an underground prison that held a true wonder of the world. A place of restoration and healing that could mend even the most tormented of spirits. I went on the journey immediately, leaving those who I used to call friend behind without a word.
When I reached the prison, I found the pool yes, but it held no properties that could heal me. Instead, when I drank from the water I fell unconscious and woke in a tiny hanging prison. I had been captured by the wicked Barde who had followed me. I was unable to escape, my elemental stone had been left dangling far below my feet. He claimed he would gain more power if I and it were forgotten, and then sealed me away in a timeless prison.
Sometimes when I close my eyes, I still see what I saw when I closed my eyes there. A realm filled with other poor forgotten souls. Stories that had been stolen. A Word Horde that kept the tragedies the King had collected sealed away to be forgotten, and to give him power. A realm where the light from the stars were drawn to a single point to vanish. When I opened my eyes, I was still in the prison, but when my eyes closed I saw the oubliette that slowly caused all who knew me to forget I existed.
Beware children, of the Barde King, a man with a charming smile and ash-like skin. Never forget that our enemies prey on trust and want all our stories to end in tragedy.