Tales of the Islands (IC | TWI ONLY)

[Noronica]

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"The little 'uns are too afeared to go to their beds. They fear the bumps in the night and the tingle in their bellies, the howling of the wind and the beastly ghouls that may take 'em. For as we know, it is the All Hallows' Eve."

As it is Halloween, I thought it'd be a nice idea to hear any myths or tales from the Isles. Be they scary tales or just tales of your nation's mythology, modern or old, they are all welcome here.

Rules:

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• You must be in the region (The Western Isles) to share a tale.
• Feel free to use any mythological creature of your wildest dreams, it's your tale and they should hold no bearing to reality.
• Saying that, please don't make this a dumb post by making the Gingerbread Batman, try to make it at least somewhat realistic, (in that you'd expect to hear something like it in myths today).
• Remember that these are myths and so you shouldn't have flaming hell-hounds randomly popping up in your IC nation.
• Posts should be IC stories about myths, (Exception below) they may be told by a character or lived by someone in the story.
• If you like, you may create a fact-file for a mythological creature, its name, powers, etc., and an origin story.
• Stealing real myths and twisting them for your narrative is fine as long as you don't say, for example, "The term 'Demon' was first used in Noronica".

Spooky version of the TWI anthem to listen to while writing

[Noronica]

They appear in many a tale, spoken from the tongues of men for centuries. The fear generated by them is such that a parent would only scold a child with their names for the worst of offences. Their story reached the shores of Noronica under the name of the 'Tri Sitraichean' or 'Three Sisters'. The Clans used them as omens of war, their appearance sparking a shift in the tide of battle.

- Noronnican Mythology Vol. 1, Professor Gerald O. Duncan

Thomas yawned loudly, his body shivering slightly in the October cold, his arms covering his thin jacket to conserve heat. Gazing around at the village houses next to him, he noticed that Halloween in Noronica had come out in full, some houses bearing religious symbolism while some held garish neon crap on their doors, often over-exaggerated 'Keep Out' signs. Smirking, he walked past a child wearing traditional Nyssic garb carrying his little bag of treats from door to door, giving greetings to her neighbours. The child would bow to them and greet them in Nyssic, then hold out his bag with puppy eyes already formed to get the most treats. Thomas remembered those days, walking the streets on Halloween, jumping at the slight flicker of the lights and the barking of lone dogs in their homes.

Times had changed and Thomas was no longer a young child, now he was a man that held little belief in those tales of fear and horror. That was not to say he did not enjoy a good story, more that he no longer cowered in terror. A good thing too or he'd be hiding behind the bush at that moment. Noronica was famous for its countryside and on a cold October night on Halloween, the mountains in the distant looked that just more jagged and alive. The wind howled and whipped around him, the trees swaying back and forth with angry cracks, their branches straining towards the windows of each house of the village.

Turning left, he saw two girls, both around their late teens. Both wore flowing white dresses and they wore red masks on their faces. Thomas knew it was a local tradition but never paid much mind to it. The practise of dressing in a white dress and wearing an ugly red mask seemed odd out of context, yet he passed it by. Sniggering to himself when one of the girls swatting the other for running to far ahead. According to his knowledge, Tri Sitraichean was the only Noronnican State that held onto most of its traditions, the others turning to the comforts of technology and cosmopolitanism. The downside of this effect would be that the population of said state were rather more isolationist and proud.

Finally reaching the 'Silver Owl', Thomas pushed passed two staggering men reeking with strong alcohol and entered the pub, his senses immediately blasted with the sights and smells of a Noronnican country pub. Spotting the open fire and the well-hidden modern heating system, Thomas slid his jacket of his body and hung it precariously on top of a coat-stand. Manoeuvring passed the rabble, Thomas finally plopped down onto one of the stools by the bar, his eyes tiredly gazing over the choices before him while the barman sauntered over to him.

"What is it you'll be wanting?" The man asked, his voice hoarse. Thomas smiled and brought his attention back into he present,
"I'll, ehm, have a pint of Benbreck Arrow." Thomas took his wallet out and put a few Norons on the table for his drink before turning his attention to the rest of the room. It was slightly quieter than normal what with most attending the Sabbath, where those two girls must have been a part of. Thomas, bored of the silence beside him, turned to the elderly woman next to him. She nursed her drink calmly, her eyes never leaving it as a sad smile crept onto her face. Thomas recognised her as a neighbour, just a few houses down, also one of the only people to welcome him and his family to the village.

"Alice?" Recognition sparked on her face so he kept going, "How nice to see you! Not wanting to be part of festivities?" Thomas may have come across as a little forceful, but he was desperate and needed a conversation.

Alice spoke softly, a contrast to her hardened appearance, "Good Evening Thomas, I'm glad to see you here. I'm afraid it is my own tradition to not set foot in that place, too unnatural for my liking. Besides, I don't want to be telling friends from other parts of the country that my village has a tradition of worshipping, for want of a better word, witches." Thomas laughed in jest,
"Aye, I must say it'll be a little odd for my friends in Nolon. However, I thought the Sabbath was a holy thing, meant to drive away sinful whatnots?" Thomas leaned back onto the bar, getting comfortable.

Alice's eyes screwed up a little, genuinely discerning whether or not Thomas was lying about his lack of knowledge. Seeing the man was clueless, she sighed and took a large gulp from her pint and began talking, knowing she wouldn't be over for a while.

"In the land that was to be later known as 'Tri Sitraichean', there were three clans who had territories in it. Clan Godwyn, Frasyr, and Dunhade. Dunhade, being the Royal Clan during Queen Magaidh's rule, held most influence over the land. Yet the animosity between the three clans was enormous. The Laerd of Clan Godwyn planned to usurp the lands of Queen Magaidh, angered by a female ruler of the Kingdom. Marching to Benbreck, Laerd Godwyn unleashed the fury of his clan and ravaged the lands. Seeing her land being so quickly taken, and due to recent affairs with the Khas Kirat Empire, Magaidh was torn between joining her new husband in his quest to make a Union between the Khas Kiratis and Noronnicans, and fighting a war against Clan Godwyn. It is said that an advisor came to her during her annual audience with the Laerds (omitting Godwyn of course) and imbued the desire for war, stating that there were three powerful persons wanting to aid the Queen in her control over her land. Seeing her options drain before her, she threw caution to the wind and travelled hard alongside the unnamed advisor to the lands of Clan Frasyr which had been quiet during the invasion of Dunhade territory. Queen Magaidh was given audience to these three women, 'Aenna, Glanne, and Petrenia', otherwise known as the 'Three Sisters'. They were said to be beautiful beyond belief, their skin radiant and their voices like angels. Magaidh, according to legend, was bewitched by these sisters who told her that they would fulfil her desire of control only if she would allow them control of the land of Clan Frasyr. Magaidh agreed to these terms and soon the Dunhade armies seemed to be bolstered in their attacks. Clan Godwyn was thoroughly smashed, but when the Dunhades entered the office of the Laerd of Clan Godwyn, they found a mutilated lump of flesh amongst the other family members who had been left in a most horrible state. The sight was so horrific that some of those that went into the room killed themselves shortly afterwards. The sign was clear on just what they were dealing with." Thomas thought he saw a hint of an upturned lip, but ignored it to favour another sip of his drink, turning back to Alice to get her to continue.

"The sisters quickly became famous, no peasant, lord, cleric or laerd could escape hearing about the sisters. Clan Frasyr was said to be dominated by the sisters, its male population often ensnared by the sisters and their demands. Sacrifices were made to them in exchange for protection during the long winters, including the practise still know today. The cave under Frasyr Keep was where the sisters lived, and every October, before the winter set in, several young women were sent to the cave as an offering to the sisters. They were never seen again, their screams often heard by nearby villages. The sisters became crueler in their demands, wanting more human flesh and offerings. If one was to defy the sisters, the person would be horrifically tormented for weeks and would be in such a state that they would throw themselves off of their houses' roofs. Their children would then be kidnapped and put into the service of the sisters, their souls taken from them. The Queen, hearing about this, sent help for a Khas-Kirati Shaman to drive off the sisters. A battle was fought between the Shaman and the sisters who, in their descent into madness, had skinned themselves and their servants of their skin to strike fear into the people of their lands. The Shaman defeated them at the day of the Sisters' Sabbath, temporarily destroying their souls, freeing the lands of Clan Frasyr. The Sabbath now serves as a protection against the influence of the sisters, so a Sister may never set foot into Sabbath grounds lest they be banished again."

The two sat in comfortable silence as they took their drinks. Thomas then thanked Alice for her story and left, walked the streets feeling a little more protected against the howling winds.

[Covonant]

It is said that Coventry is the most haunted area in Covonant with her many haunted buildings and sites. But the most haunted among them all was the Tigranis River and the majestic Solemn Bridge. Many tales have been expressed of this place, some believing them true, others hoping that it is mere fable. I cannot say if it is true or not but I will shed light on her tale.

The year was 1451. The first Neburisan explorers to the newly found island traversed up and down the Tigranis mapping and scouting the area, searching for its untold riches. The area was sacred to the Taurotian people who performed sacrificial ceremonies and made the area their sacred burial lands. The Khas Kirati invaders were certain to respect this. The Neburisan however found their tale and practices primitive. The land was to be developed into a centre of commerce for the Neburisan colony. All goods coming in and out of Covonant travelled through the city Covern (present day Coventry). It is said that once the area was claimed and its sacredness desecrated, the evils of the land unleashed its fury. Ships coming down the Tigranis would suddenly lose buoyancy and sink to the bottom of the river with all crew and supplies with it. No one could save the souls lost, as the river swallowed them up with great urgency. Many have claimed to hear the cries of men, women and children falling victim to her treacherous waters, looking calm but holding deadly movements.

The history of this city some would say is dark, very dark. Mirrored with violence, slavery, torture, and gruesome death. Once the Neburisans had established themselves along the banks of the Tigranis, the great engineers of the day thought it necessary to build a stronger bridge to connect both sides of the river. At the time the Taurotian people built simple wooden bridge which seemed to serve their needs. The Neburisan however were a people of commerce and needed to trade. Goods were needed from all parts of the colony to the commerce centre and the bridge needed to reflect dominance, Neburisan ingenuity, power. When the Neburisans conquered the island, they immediately saw the natives as primitive and sought to enslave all those of non-Neburisan ancestry. The Khas people were not spared as well. Their enslavement was mere punishment for not surrendering the island easily and for causing Neburisan blood to spill during the lengthy battle for the island. One horrific way that the Neburisan struck fear into the hearts and souls of their captured subjects was incorporating their bodies into building structures. It is said that the bones of the Taurotian people were built into the Consul building as a show of power and dominion not only over the life of the Taurotian people but also in death they would find no peace. But the tale gets even more horrific. The Neburisan found great enjoyment in carrying out deadly punishments to its subjects and publicly displaying such acts to "break the spirits" of those who wished to threaten Neburisan rule. One such act was to use the heads of Taurots and Khas subjects as barriers on the Solemn Bridge. Many scholars have documented such acts but many too have discredit it as fiction. It is said that the heads of the subjects would be sliced off in one go in front of all to see. The eyes gutted out and the nose removed. The head placed in cement and smoothed out to be placed along the sides of the bridge. Some claimed it served no assistance to the bridge but to be only a reminder of what lies ahead for those who stepped out of line.

This place Coventry has her horrors, and it only keeps getting worst from then. In 1629, the city found itself engulfed in flames. Some said it was because of the wickedness of the individuals that inhabited her. Many souls perished on that historic day, souls that would torment the city for centuries. Many have reported hearing crying and shouts of fire in distant tongue. Many have reported waking in the middle of the night to smelling smoke and burning flesh. In 1809 a young girl named Jullia found herself under a trance that saw her jump through her 2 story apartment window suffering multiple broken bones. Her reason "smoke and heat" but there was no report of smoke or heat anywhere in the building and no sign of any either on that day. Coventry though beautiful, holds many horrors and tragedy. Her river, the bloodline that shaped her history, the site of numerous suicide attempts that were successful and some not so successful. Persons have claimed to walk along the corridors of the Solemn Bridge and encounter men dressed in clothing resembling different time contemplating to jump. There are those who have claimed to hear screams coming from an area of the bridge that many infamously identify has mental leap, for it is said that those who jumped suffered from mental instability that made them leap in the river as though they had already made up their mind that it was better that way.

In 1938, on a warm summer afternoon, just before the time became dark, a young Coventrian couple who found themselves sitting on the bench overlooking the Tigranis saw the most shocking sight of all. The river turned red, resembling blood. This history had been documented and to this day no reason can be given that meets academic certification. Taurotian priest have however expressed that the river released the horrid souls that tormented her. The land was cursed and more deaths was to be placed upon it. These scenarios have caused many adventure lovers to travel across the region to Coventry, hoping to have a taste of her many horrors. These, many call myths, some call them history. I, I merely enlighten my reader on a different view of the famed capital. Her majestic towers, and beautiful halls, her centres of government and commerce have made her a bastion of the region, but her horrors whether true or not has made her an excitement of the mind and a striker of the bravest of hearts.

Excerpt: Coventry Nights (pg 15-17) by Quiriline Agathis (1998)

[Athara Magarat]

Temur was not brave like the man he was named after. Had he been born in some other country, he would have been bullied by his classmates or even beaten for having that name but luckily for him, the name was still okay in Athara Magarat even if much of the population hated the World War II era dictator Temur Buduja. To say young boy Temur is a scaredy-cat would be overstatement; for he was smaller than even your average Athara Magarati child aged six and one with lots of monsters tormenting him in his dreams.

Fed up with his constant fears of the darkness or whatever, his mother decided to bring home a big doll home all of a sudden one day. Temur's father was furious that his wife had brought a girlish item for their son and wanted it returned but she argued back that the doll supposedly had some sort of 'spiritual presence', was brought from an old shaman woman's shop and would keep the 'balance' in Temur's room. Temur's father, being a devout Whindist Christian, scoffed at such 'nonsense' but his Munist-Christian wife's urging of necessity to keep 'traditions alive' and the fact that Temur seemed to already like the doll made him give in - for the moment. Temur also argued that the doll was not girlish and indeed it was no Barbie. For starters, the doll was wooden-made; probably of yew or sal tree, with a wicked nose and scary large eyes that seemed to watch you all time. Her dress was in red - considered a holy color by some tribes for it was the color of fire that scared demons and the hat of worn by European witches on her head made her look extra creepy. Young buy Temur was sure that Rati [meaning both 'night' or 'red' on the situation], as he called her, would scare off his demons.

For a long time after Rati was in the house, Temur did not shout for his parents in the middle of night due to nightmares. That seemed to convince the father that maybe he should let his son have the "witch-doll". However, Temur's father was somewhat irked that his son would keep the doll in all sorts of places in the young boy's room such as the window or in front of the wardrobe. He was glad that his son at least did not take the "girlish doll" to school. When asked by his mother why he didn't take Rati to his friends, Temur would say that she didn't like the outside world and liked being confined to his room.

One night, Rati came in Temur's dreams as usual but this time she spoke and asked him if she could have his nails. "Why?" asked Temur and the reply came that she needed nails to claw at bad things that would torment him. The next morning, the boy cut his nails and placed them next to his witch-doll. That night, she appeared again in his dreams and thanked him for his love. Temur would often have such dreams and he would often place his milk tooth or nails next to Rati the nest day after such a dream.

As time flew by, Temur no longer paid any attention to the witch-doll in his room even if it was there all the time and gathering dust. But once Temur became a teenager and 'hanging out' with his pals, he started having nightmares once again. And despite being 14, he saw Rati in his dream once again. This time she was angry and he found himself pleading to her horrific face.

"Please don't kill me."

"Why would I, my love? I am here to protect you from the bad things." To his surprise and horror, the doll spoke. But instantly, relief overcame that fear. "But I have grown weaker. Without feeding, I cannot protect you. Which is why you have nightmares now."

"From what?" Temur was surprised that he was so calm. And instantly he was in a different world. Ants the size of men warred against each other. Tearing apart limbs and antenna. Feeding on live enemies. Then he was in yet another world. A feral wolf-like beast scavenged on the corpse of a human. In yet another realm, he saw the "Great Dragon" eating a sun and dooming millions of lives on this world to eternal darkness, despair and death. And in yet another flash, he was face to face with Famine, once a great warrior who was cursed to eternal damnation due to his sin to plague infinite worlds with his cursed fate. Temur knew what he was seeing. The ancient shamans spoke of infinite number of realms and that witches, despite their malevolent nature towards mankind, actually protected our realm from others. He used to hear such stories a lot during his childhood from his maternal grandfather. But growing up with a Whindist father, he had come to regard such stories as just stories - until now.

Temur sobbed upon witnessing the horrors. He felt the gentle tap of the wooden doll - the great witch - on his shoulder. Her breaths and whispers told him that everything would be okay if he continued supporting her; just like the ancient shamans did. After that day, Temur would strangle neighborhood cats and puppies to take out their sharp claws. He would pluck feathers from a bird and feed them to Rati. And just as she had said, there were no more nightmares.

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Thanks to the formation of the Cooperative Union, it was a lot easier to move to Coventry for Temur, now 26. He has managed to get Covonantian citizenship and get a decent job as a manager in one of the busiest restaurants in the capital city. There is more food on Coventry for Rati than back in his small hometown in rural Athara Magarat. After work is finished, Temur is the last to head out and he offers a ride to one of the new waitresses doing over-time. The poor girl never makes it to her home. Two weeks later, the police find her body in the Tigranis River. The case is closed with assumption that the dead woman, with her financial problems and recent break-up, decided to jump to death from the Solemn Bridge. It is never noticed that one of her molars has been missing.

"The new teeth looks good on you." Temur says to Rati as he prepares coffee for a new day.

"Do you still love me after all this?" she asks grimly.

He takes her hand and gives it a kiss. "Oh great witch, you protect this world. For that sole reason, I love you more than anything else in this realm."