Story Time

[KannAllyEnd 12]

You arrive in the library to be amongst the comforting words of your kind. It is a familiar place, dimmed so the sunlight does not harm the carefully inscribed pages here. As you attempt to select from the many, a place to begin your adventures…one volume in particular catches your eye.

It has been shelved recently; the un-embossed spine sticks out from the others by an inch or two. You take it down carefully, the leather binding heavy in your hands. When you open it on the study table before you, you are engulfed by the scent of fresh ink. The spicy, elusive smell piques your curiosity. You decide to read a few pages on.

It is a journal, written using thick, bold printing. A small heading is scrawled in cursive on the first page.

It reads…

Fables for Children: The Silver Collection

A gift for future generations of our Blessed City

By Ante’vuln Llumcelia.

---

[story #1]

“The Crying Orc Child”

Long ago, there was a child born amongst the Orcish people with a particularly awful temperament. Not, mind you, that awful temperaments are uncommon in Orc society. But this child was far more unpleasant than any of the stinking, smelly oafs that were the norm for her race.

She had the same ugly, piggish face as all Orc children. The same skin that was forever reminiscent of dirt and filth. But it was her voice that truly made one shudder. For she was the owner of a loud, shrill cry that was so loud and horrible that it could be heard from ten miles away.

This child was also apparently predisposed to constant crying.

It caused much unrest in the neighboring lands. Many sleepless nights were had by all in the near vicinity. Soon, fights broke out due to insomnia-induced distemper. It became such a problem that a council of elders from each race was called in order to solve the dilemma.

The wisest Dwarf, Man, Orc, and Elf were called to a gathering held in the capital city of the Orcs. They sat around a table, the crying infant placed in the center, and each presented a solution.

“We should give it gold and jewels, to bribe the child into smiling again,” declared the greedy Dwarf. He then presented a huge chest of gold to the child, who barely seemed to notice the offering and simply continued to scream.

Clearly this was no solution, and the Dwarf then left to sulk in a hole.

Then it was the Man’s turn to come up with a solution.

“We should put a magic spell on the child, to mute her forever,” declared the Man after only a few moments of thought, “let us take her to a wizard!” So the child was taken to a wizard. Her powers of sound were taken from her soon thereafter. However, she then took to hurling items at the wall in her rage and anguish. She was a strong child, and the resulting crashes were so loud that the peace of the nearby people was just as disturbed as before. And so, the spell was lifted.

The Man grunted with defeat and drunk himself into a disappointed stupor. He then bragged unjustly to his friends about how he’d solved the situation, and was recorded as a hero by his people (who never bothered challenge his claim, even though the crying had NOT ceased) for generations after.

The council gathered again, and the remaining wise-people continued to offer solutions.

At last, the silver-haired, High Elven wise-woman (obviously the most enlightened of the Elven kind) spoke. She had said little throughout the meeting. But when it was her turn, she intoned in a calm, reasonable voice.

“I would like to observe the child more before suggesting a solution,” she said, for High Elves are the most practical and studious of all sub-races, and do not like to rush to conclusions without proper evidence.

So, she followed the Orc and the child back to the Orcish village. Though it was distasteful, she bore it with grace.

The haggard-looking parents of the child eyed the Elven woman with distrust. But they were quite overwrought, and desperate for a solution, and so they allowed her make her observations in peace.

“How do you usually attempt to comfort the child?” The woman asked with curiosity.

The Orc mother grunted (which is generally the extent of Orcish conversation), and shrugged.

“We deal with her as we deal with all Orc children.” And to demonstrate, she, without prompting, cuffed the child with force on the head.

The result was a much louder wail from the unhappy Orc baby, followed by a series of blood-curdling shrieks. The Elf woman almost felt pity for the creature.

...But of course the Orcish solution was entirely consistent of unnecessary violence.

“Why don’t we see if anything ails the child?” she suggested, remembering a time when her own daughter had scraped her knee while playing and become quite upset.

The parents, who, to no ones surprise had no concept of proper child-rearing—had not even thought the child could be crying due to anything but poor spirit. They insisted the child was merely a mean, spiteful creature with no help for it. Well, it wasn’t too far fetched, considering she was an Orc.

The parents’ plan was to simply be rid for the child, and thus the crying, forever. But the wise and pure Elven woman was convinced there was a better solution. At last, she convinced the parents to allow her to examine the child more closely.

And thus, it was found that the child had a thorn buried deep in her foot. It was causing her a great amount of pain, and thus a particularly plaintive outcry. The thorn was removed, and no children had to be killed at all.

The people finally had peace.

Thanks to a little bit of patience, observation, and intuition—serenity was restored.

[Sporadic 2844]

Doting upon the massive libraries of Haelun'or, she by chance happens to find what looks like a children's book. Absent-mindedly (for how could she not have a million things on her mind), she begins to read, but soon finds herself lost in the stunning deliverance of a most truthful morale. Ellir is smiling by the time she reaches the last page, and resolves herself to read it to her own offspring at the earliest opportune moment.

[KannAllyEnd 12]

((Just a note, but I thought I’d mention that even if no one reads these: I enjoy writing them. It’s very immersive, and moreover…it’s silly. It’s pointless. It’s lovely. :] ))

You flip through a more few pages. The cream-colored parchment is thick and heavy as you turn through the leaves of the journal. The next story’s title catches your eye.

And so you read on, stealing a few moments of childhood beneath the dusty tomes of your Great City...

--

[story #2]

“The Foolish Flirt and His Birdsong”

Not so very long ago, there was a very handsome Mali’thil man. He had hair like strands of glittering, silver moonlight, and the Ancestors were reflected in the delicate structure of his face. Even the most polite and reserved of the respectable High Elven women felt their hearts speed at the sight of him.

I am afraid to say, it went to his head a bit.

Good High Elven women never swoon. But they did write to him. He could have filled an entire library with the volumes of their affection. He soon grew arrogant and careless. No longer reserving his tongue or keeping private his feelings…the man became quite the brash and open flirt.

For a while this went on. He took delight in filling the roads with the blushing faces of his admirers. And no one scolded him. No one scorned him for his flagrant displays of careless affection. He was far too lovely, and it was easier for his admirers to simply giggle and enjoy his attention.

These things do not go unpunished, however. There were to be consequences, for someone was watching with jealous eyes.

A particularly talented sorceress amongst the High Elves had fallen in love with the beautiful man. And when she observed his salacious manner, she grew deeply envious. As time wore on, she only grew more resentful.

One day, she caught him publically kissing a particularly pretty Elf maid, and her rage boiled over. She cast a spell on the man, turning him into a common brown sparrow.

“That will teach him,” she cackled as she watched him fly away. His dun-brown feathers were now the color of mud and impurity; every semblance of beauty had been taken from him.

The man despaired, because as a sparrow, his life had been greatly shortened. He would perhaps live only a few more years, and it made him shudder to think he’d be spending them in this sorry form. Day after day he sat as an unremarkable sparrow in the branches of a white tree in a courtyard, mourning. Would he forever be punished for his foolishness?

At length, as he was sitting amongst the branched, he noticed an Elf maiden. She was bright against the day, the most perfect creature he had ever seen. And it made his sadness grow even more acute, for he could never approach her in this manifestation. He watched her go with a great pain in his heart.

It was desperately unfair. He’d had so many admirers, and he’d never known love until now. He couldn’t help it. He followed the girl home, and sat at her windowsill, watching with tears a woman he’d never know.

All these feelings sat in his small bird-chest, until they weighed him down. He could no longer lift his wings, and quickly grew quite miserable. And so, he began to put these feelings into a song. It was no ordinary birdsong either. It told of regret, it told of lessons learned too late—and it told of loss. He sat on the girl’s windowsill, and sang this song to her through the night. It was a true song. An artist’s pursuit of feelings in their purest form.

It was so tragic, and so moving that the girl began to cry. She open the window, took the little bird into her hands. She wept upon him. And as her tears touched him, his feathers began to fall to the ground.

He grew, shedding the murky brown feathers he’d worn as he did. Soon, he stood as a man again, the beautiful Elf woman in his arms.

And so it was: the pure expression of his soul through song, through art, freed the man and brought him happiness.

[Mithradites 1168]

((These are AMAZING. I would like to request to copy these and put them in-game.))

[VonAulus 2082]

((First of all, I love them, second, would you mind if I wrote a short story and put it on this thread? Remember to imbue some racism and isolationism into these stories like you have already been doing.))

[KannAllyEnd 12]

((These are AMAZING. I would like to request to copy these and put them in-game.))

((Aww, I'm SO happy you liked them! Of course you can use them in-game. My honor :] ))

[KannAllyEnd 12]

((First of all, I love them, second, would you mind if I wrote a short story and put it on this thread? Remember to imbue some racism and isolationism into these stories like you have already been doing.))

((Heh, blushing. Thank you so much! And please do add some short stories here. I'd like to invite anyone who wants to to make up some Elven children's stories! And of course, gotta have the blatant superiority and stuffy themes of intellectualism and higher pursuit--that's the fun part. :D thanks for reading))

[KannAllyEnd 12]

--

[story #3]

"The Love of a Valah"

Very long ago, a Valah feel deeply in love with a High Elven maiden. He soon took to courting her, but naturally, his advances were ignored. Seeing how indifferent she was, he became desperate in his attempts to woo her. And so, he decided to ask advice on how to impress her from his mother, for his mother was very wise, as far as humans go. Though she could not read, and had lived merely seventy years, she had slept with many a man in her day. This made her quite knowledgeable in the subject most important to members of the Valah race.

“Women enjoy being courted by a man unafraid of his emotions. Announce your feelings for her in a public space, so all may bear witness to your devotion,” she advised him. The man thanked her gratefully, and went to do just this.

He brought minstrels and a choir of reputable singers with him to deliver the announcement. He stood in a public square, and trumpeted his affections for the Elf maid in a boisterous voice. The music played behind him, and it was altogether, a terrible spectacle.

Humiliated, the Elf maiden ran out of the place in tears.

The Valah was confused, but not deterred. He continued his attempts to win her heart. Not being the most logical of creatures, he sought his mother’s advice again.

“Bring her parents riches to show them that you will take care of their daughter. Every lady demands a dowry,” the mother told him, and the man thanked her for the words of wisdom and went on his way.

The next day, he entered her home, dragging behind him a large chest filled with golden nuggets. He’d had to sell his horse and belongings in order to procure them, but their quality was beyond compare.

Her parents took one look at the offering, and slammed the door in the man’s face. How dare he insult them so? They had done him no wrong!

Feeling depressed, the man went back to his mother. The woman patted his shoulder and comforted him, and then offered him a final piece of advice.

“Challenge her other suitors to a duel,” the mother told him, “show her you are willing to fight for her favor! You will become a warrior and a hero in her eyes, and at last, you will win her affection.”

So the man went to the Silver City and asked around to learn whom the girl’s other potential beaus were. None were willing to disclose the information, but eventually, he overheard two younger Elves talking in a low voice about the High Prince’s intentions to marry the girl.

The man immediately challenged the High Elven prince to a duel. The prince, greatly troubled by this, went to the Council to disclose the matter to them.

The parents of the elf maiden also happened to be Council members, and they too brought their complaints of the grievous insult they’d received. The threat of violence against the prince brought great concern to the wise Council.

“He means to declare war,” one member declared, “let us end this threat to our peace before it descends upon us.”

And so the man was tried as a disturbance, cited with attempts to incite violence between the Elves and the people after centuries of amiable coexistence. None of his own came to his aid, because there was a foxhunt going on that day. The humans seemed to feel that this was far more exciting and important than coming to the defense of one their own.

“It is not so!” The man begged the Elves, “I meant only to express my affections for that young lady, right there!” He pointed to the girl, who stared back at him with wide eyes. For a moment she felt sympathy for the ill-guided human.

But then she remembered how he had embarrassed her in front of all her friends and relatives. Fury burned in her heart, and she turned her nose up at the piteous suitor.

“I believe him to be a dangerous criminal,” she told the Council, “he made his intentions upon me, which was a direct assault on my purity and that of future generations. Surely, he deserves the highest punishment.”

And so, for crimes of impure fraternization, insult of imminent Council members, and threat upon the life of royalty the man was put to death that night. The High Elf maid and the Prince were married in a grand celebration. She later gave birth to pure children who grew to be great leaders who brought much prosperity to the Silver City.

And never again were the Valah allowed past the City gates. But sometimes, on particularly cold winter’s nights, you can still hear the man’s last cries before he was put to death.

“Please! I never meant to damage her purity! I was planning to marry her first!”

[steelersfan1221 300]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.