Storytelling Night: The Little Duck Who Could

Breandryn

Another Gaudiguch storytelling night! I'll try to hold these a bit more often and feel free to come join us if you hear we're holding one!

Each person had to incorporate three items into their part of the story. Most of the chatter is cut out for easier reading, though there was some pretty amusing sidebar. Full log is here: http://pastebin.com/e2xYEWN6

Xypher: Lizard, duck, mud

Xypher begins to hover, his wings fluttering in a haze of chaotic colours as he rises above the sandstone counter. In abrupt moment, he lands on the counter striking a heroic pose, speaking fully in a hollow tone, "This tale I tell, it is a thing of woe.." He sweeps an arm out to the left, "It begins with the ducks of the Etrai country. A simple people, of simple ways. For they loved to fish and swim, and generally laze about without a care in the world." He sweeps an arm out to the right, "And to the neighboring side, there were a tribe of desert dwelling lizards who soaked up all the sun they could, eating whatever scarce food they might find buried in the sandy ways...."

Xypher stomps on the counter with his left foot, his gaze flowing over each of those gathered as he continues, "But, one lone duck came to the desert...and hated what he saw...SAND! NO SAND!...He left to go to the place the water of the lake of his people were stopped from flowing. I WILL HAVE NO SAND! He declared, as he unbound the various sticks damming the water flow...in an instant..." He waves his arms madly as he speaks loudly, "Water crashed down into the lizards desert home...leaving the sand turned into a thick, pasty mud...no water nor sand to be found..."

In her ponderous way, Pash murmurs, "But Xypher... Sand doesn't turn into mud... It eventually settles..."

Sagely, you say to Pash, "It must be magical sand, for the duck is talking."

As if it all makes sense now, Mystic Pash says to you, "Ah, this is true..."

Xypher hops down off the counter, bouncing to the ground with a flutter of his wings. With a wink toward you he whispers softly, "Perhaps. But it is to Pash who will continue this tale, this horrible no good song of woe!"

Pash: Pig, cactus weed, unicorn

Pash inhales deeply through her flattened nose, letting it out as her mind works. Finally, she begins to speak: "Now, with the magical sand and the water both gone, it left quite a predicament for the ducks, who could not laze about in mud or swim in it, and other things that ducks enjoy doing, AND the lizards, who found it severely hampered their ability to find foodstuffs." Her hands lift from her knees, webbed fingers splaying as she begins to gesture with them. "It was, however, a great draw to the nomadic pigs that wandered the desert. This was bad for everyone, though: the pigs, you see, were grotesque, oversized bullies, keen on stealing the resources of those smaller than them so that they could laze about."

A pig shuffles in from the east, snatching up a platter of potatoes before scuffling off the west, his grunting still audible long after he has faded from sight.

With an indifferent stare, Pash slowly blinks one eye and then the other.

"They liked the mud, and with its presence, they came in great droves to wade in it," Pash continues, scratching at her cheek with a webbed finger, "Much to the dismay of the ducks and lizards both. Upon learning about the duck that sought to bring water back to the desert, and thus making the mud that then brought the pigs and led to the misfortune of the fowl and lizardfolk both, the poor duck was judged quickly and in a very unkind manner. 'This is your fault!' cried the Elder Duck, 'The Pigs would not have come if you had not created the mud!'"

With a great sigh, Mystic Pash says, "The Elder Duck, outraged at this new predicament, banished the unfortunate duck until he could find a way to drive the pigs out."

Pash settles her hands back on her knees. "Forced out of the once-desert-now-mudhole, the duck wandered for some time, alone and lonely and quite sad, until he came upon a curious tear in the fabric of the world before him. Naturally being a curious duck, as all ducks are, he entered the tear." Her hands lift again, electricity crackling between her fingers and bouncing off of her hairless skin as she waves them about. "What a magical place it led to, this tear in the fabric of the world! Full of wandering flowers and mushrooms, and tittering butterfly-girls who loitered within the trees."

Nodding sagaciously, Pash continues, "It was here, in this glorious, sparkling place that the duck came across a glistening horse with one single horn, resting beneath a tree. 'Oh my!' cried the duck, 'What are you?!' 'I am the Unicorn,' it replied, eyeing the duck with some suspicion, uncertain of what the duck wanted with its mystical home. 'What brings you to us, in this great world of Faetil?' the unicorn queried, causing the duck to relay the tale of the pigs and the mud and his home.'"

"The unicorn listened, and when the story was over," Pash offers up, "It rose from its place beneath the tree. 'Walk with me,' it said to the duck, who waddled along as ducks are prone to do, 'There is a plant, a spiny plant, that grows between this world and your own. It is a weed, one that, when smoked, turns the mind in interesting manners. Take this weed to the pigs, and you will soon be in the good graces of your flock once more.'" The mugwump relaxes in her place, nodding her head solemnly. "I pass the story on to Tremula."

Tremula: Trolls, slaughter, reapers

Shrugging her shoulders, Tremula picks up her staff and gingerly steps between those seated until she is in the centre of the cantina. She looks around and says, "I hope no one minds, but I find stories without visuals to be so...unappealing. Let's see if we can continue the story of these damnable pigs." She raises her staff once before sharply rapping against the floor, and the ball at the tip begins to burn brighter, sizzling smoke rising up before falling down in a blanket of fog that quickly covers the floor around her feet and begins to extend outwards.

The cool fog coils about your legs and feet as it spreads, a myriad of unformed shapes and esoteric markings viewable for a moment before falling back to the ground.

Her voice taking on a mystical, alluring appeal, Tremula turns and hunches slightly waving her arm in a wide sweep to send a wave of fog rising to begin forming a small mound. "Now then, you will be surprised to find that our duck is but a deuteragonist within this story." She blows softly, and the soft edges of the fog begin to fade, revealing sharpened edges and the leering features of a troll leaning heavily on its spiked club, leering towards Pash. "For these pigs were not just wild pigs, but the escaped pets of a vicious gang of trolls, known only as the Yaevyns."

The troll belches a massive burp as he picks something out of his teeth, tossing it to the ground to land with a sick squelch as it fades into the fog.

"For years, these trolls had ravaged lands far and wide, only letting the lizards and ducks live because the desert chafes their skin so, and we all know trolls are terribly vain." Tremula waves her hand, and another form begins to grow behind her, a large pillar nearly as tall as she is. "Yet the trolls were still always moving, and while many assumed it was because they were pillaging and looting, it was truly out of fear. For they had spurned the wrath of one much mightier than them, a terrifying reaper!" With a forceful motion, she presses her palm flat towards the ground and dark black smoke flows over the pillar, cloaking him in the guise of a gaunt reaper.

Midnight blue colours the dark robes of the reaper as he swings a massive scythe over his head, bellowing an unholy scream of rage as he charges towards the troll, gliding over the heads of those seated on the floor.

Tremula turns and points her finger imperiously at the reaper and troll, the former nearly at his death blow and the latter seeming to be close to defecating on himself out of fear. "You may be asking yourself, what is it that the trolls have done to spurn the ire of such a mighty foe, causing him to cull their numbers just as fast as they can continue populating?" She twirls her finger and a smaller figure emerges from the mist, dressed in reaper robes as well but well over half the size of the original.

Spectacles appear over the robed face of the small reaper, and curly sprouts of grey hair pop up over her head as her back hunches. It is glaringly obvious this is the reaper's aged mother, but before you can see much of her, a hog's tusk impales her from the rear, and she falls to the ground, dead as a doornail.

Shaking her head, voice filled with tremulous sorrow, Tremula says, "She never stood a chance, I'm afraid. The troll leader thought her glasses looked particularly shiny." She waves her hand and the reaper follows through with his blow, decapitating the quivering troll before his foul smelling residue can emerge. "And because of this, the reaper has sworn to wipe out their line, leaving naught but carnage and bad stuffed trolls in his wake, outfitted with googly eyes and wide, goofy smiles to showcase their buffoonery eternally. Because of this, they rampage the land before them, driving others out and ruining the lives of all those who they cross, including our dear friend the duck." She smiles and points to Alaksanteri, "But that is your story to tell, not mine."

With a hot wind blowing in suddenly, the fog in the room turns a bright crimson before rushing back towards Tremula in a wide maelstrom, soaking into her staff until it is all vanished, leaving not even a single trace of the terrifying troll behind.

Alaksanteri: The legendary poleaxe Gunthngillstfrsh, ghost fish, a mighty dragon

With intonation, Bad Taxidermist Alaksanteri Elithysius, Dirge of Insanity says, "The duck returned to the rift and transversed it riding on the back of the unicorn he has just met, pockets brimming with freshly picked weed. They traveled for a whole day towards the location of the chief of the wild pigs, the legendary poleaxe Gunthngillstfrsh."

Bad Taxidermist Alaksanteri Elithysius, Dirge of Insanity says, "This poleaxe was, in fact, a sentient poleaxe carried by the wild pigs."

Bad Taxidermist Alaksanteri Elithysius, Dirge of Insanity says, "To which they would turn for military strategy."

Bad Taxidermist Alaksanteri Elithysius, Dirge of Insanity says, "At the turning of the weave though, the duck and the unicorn decided to rest for some time by a campfire. The unicorn fell asleep only to be awoken by strange muffled noises..."

Bad Taxidermist Alaksanteri Elithysius, Dirge of Insanity exclaims, "The duck was bent over the campfire, mumbling, rolling joints and smoking all the weed they were supposed to bring before the chief of the wild pigs!"

Eyes gleaming with bloodthirst, Bad Taxidermist Alaksanteri Elithysius, Dirge of Insanity says, "The unicorn burst into uncontrollable anger!! She said 'May you be taken into the greatest depths of the Void!' She then powerfully charged to gore the duck with her horn, and stomped the duck several times... then left the campfire in a bloody mess bfore returning to her magical rift."

Bad Taxidermist Alaksanteri Elithysius, Dirge of Insanity says, "In the morning, a starving lizard was passing by looking for something to eat or drink when he saw flames into the distance..."

Bad Taxidermist Alaksanteri Elithysius, Dirge of Insanity says, "The lizard approached with caution before realizing that his wishes had come true. 'Fresh meat!' he exclaimed and he roasted the duck into a delicious breakfast. Once replete, he discovered a few rolled joints and smoked them happily. He was quite content and it had been months since he had any sleep so he quickly faded into the realm of dreams."

Bad Taxidermist Alaksanteri Elithysius, Dirge of Insanity says, "A ghost fish came to him in a psychedelic haze. They partied and they danced together in incorporeal form when the ghost fish leaned towards the lizard and whispered with an echoing voice..."

Bad Taxidermist Alaksanteri Elithysius, Dirge of Insanity says, "'You must find the great dragon sleeping in the vault of the thousand madnesses... only him can defeat the reaper and return all the water to its original place... Only him can bring peace to long lost wild pig's mothers!"

Breandryn: a funeral pyre, a flaming slyph, Tremula

(it should be noted that there was a fierce debate over whether the duck was good or bad. As in, everyone except Breandryn thought he was a bad guy)

You have emoted: Breandryn takes a moment to gather her thoughts, staring down at her hands with a frown as her hair shifts to a pensive deep green. Finally, she begins to speak, voice soft as she picks up the thread of the tale. "The ghost fish's words burbled up out of his mouth, sound resolving into a bubble, bigger and bigger, until the lizard himself was sucked in. Inside the bubble, the world became rainbows, prisms dancing across all he could see - and all pointed onwards, a path traced out by their glittering, colorful arcs, for, you see, the duck, the lovely duck, the beautiful duck: he was not yet gone."

You have emoted: Breandryn smiles fiercely at this new revelation, eyebrows lifting as she explains, "In Faetil, where the weed was harvested, magic hangs heavy and such magic lingered over the duck and the unicorn and even the unicorn's trampling hooves, so when our fowl friend became breakfast he was born anew, the magic planting a seed in the lizard's soft, fleshy belly, like Lovashi taking root. A funeral pyre roared in that belly, magic and heartburn churning until the duck was returned like a phoenix." Her smile widens, eyes shining. "And so the duck crept through the lizard's veins and sinew, melded with his bones, and with delightful snaps and withering cracks and twisting tears of muscles, the two merged, transforming and transmologizing into something magnificent and glorious, magic crackling over their new form. They looked down at their hands and were delighted, for they were wreathed in flames - they had become a fae, a slyph, born in fire, of Faetil truly, now."

You have emoted: "Together, they thought on this change as they chased the rainbows onwards across the desert," Breandryn continues quietly, hands idly raking through the air. The faintest of shimmers, a stray glint of light, something sparkles in her finger's wake for a brief moment, and then she speaks. "The duck had lessons he had learned - he had sought to help, without thought or question as to if his help was wanted or needed or even helpful, and so the mud was not loved. He had not thought of the consequences of his actions, of what would happen three steps ahead, and so the pigs had come. He had not considered others when he smoked the weed, and so his pancaking had happened." Her eyes widen. Earnestly, she explains, "The duck had learned, most painfully, the flaws of his ways, and this he brought to the slyph. The lizard...well, he was mostly just hungry and enjoyed being high, so this was also contributed to the new them, and it was beautiful and wonderful and hungry and stoned."

You have emoted: "As they reached this shared epiphany," Breandryn murmurs, "So did the rainbows converge, lancing down to a cave's opening in the distance. The slyph adjusted her hand-flames and downwards the bubble soared, alighting on the ground before the yawning opening. They were afraid, but they were also brave, so they paused but a moment before entering the void. They had a desert to save and a ghost to rest. Madness loomed. They vanished inside."

You have emoted: Breandryn's voice grows soft and her eyes get as large as small saucers. "The vault of the thousand madnesses had no sky or earth, no up or down, no right or wrong," she breathes. "The vault is where all of the could-be's and would-be's and should-never-be's converge and crash, every paradigm, every potential tangled together in a wild, wrong, crazed chaos - through this, they crept, their body tiny and gigantic and burning and frozen and outside-in and inside-out and upside down and sometimes not even there at all and then, when they thought their mind, their newly discovered beautiful shared mind would split and crack, he was suddenly there: the dragon, the dragon, finally. The dragon."

You have emoted: Breandryn smiles suddenly here, unable to keep a tender tone from her voice. "Rainbows danced across his scales and he was more beautiful than the sunrise and as he sneezed out butterflies, he regarded them, the slyph's beautiful fiery form and their keen, new-fashioned mind, and he saw all they had been through and the lessons they had learned. He snorted once, and a cloud of butterflies surrounded them and then again and they sighed, body wisping apart-".

You have emoted: "-And a third snort-" Breandryn continues, her tone shifting between a whisper and a more musical lilt. "Something was tickling her feet..." "-and the butterflies fluttered and flapped and their hands began to burn with dreammotes-" "...insistently. How rude, she thought, grumpily rolling over. Go away..." "-and the dreammotes fluttered and flew and the dragon-" "...again, the tickles. What! What!" "-and the dragon leaned in, warmly whispering-" "Wake up, Tremula! You're dreaming!"".

With a bright smile, you say, "And so she was and so she awoke and so this is the end of our story."