Rebellion Tales

"That's it Maisie, into the barn you go." Vivian said, as Maisie the cow entered the bright colored barn on her farm. Vivi's green eyes stared off into the distance at the setting sun- which was hidden behind dull grey clouds. She sighed, wishing the scenery was prettier. She'd love to paint it. She couldn't remember the last sunny day she'd seen. A nudge from a cow nose on the back of her head made her realize she should get back to work.

Her dad had needed an extra hand that day, so the blonde was willing to help out. After feeding the animals, Vivi skipped out the barn,happy as a halibut. It was Friday night and she was free! She stopped by her house to put on her favorite dress. Now that she was 18, she could go to pubs. Her father became worried when she said she was going out; she was only child- her parents' miracle child. She figured it he was afraid something would happen to her. As she pulled her long hair up into a pretty but messy bun, she listened to her father ramble on as he did every weekend night.

"Remember, no drinks from strange men-"

"Got it, Dad."

"If they're getting too close, don't be afraid to sock em! If any of them start to bother yeh, you be sure to tell that barmaid Kyra, she's a tough one-"

"I know, We've gone over this a million times!" She smiled at him and hugged him. "I'll bring my painting stuff just in case, just as I always do."

"Alright, alright. don't bring any boys home, I won't allow-"

"Jesus, i won't!" She said, her face heating up. Her dad was just about to bring up the unthinkable! As if she'd bring home a man for that! She gave an awkward cough, and left the house, heading down the bustling street.

---------------

Titus let his heavy hammer drop as he wiped his sweaty brow. He'd just finished making a double-ended blade. He admitted it was a strange order, but an out of town merchant requested it. Eager to start such a strange project, he couldn't turn the man down. He set the blade aside and began to close up shop. It was so hot in there! But the Elf was used to it. He wiped his brow with a dirty towel, and began to wipe his well-toned arms; hoping to get some of the soot and sweat off. It all seemed to mix and stick to his skin. He grunted and head up into his house, which was attached to his smithing shop, knowing he'd have to bathe.

After showering and saying goodbye to his mother, Titus left his home, heading down to the local pub which was ran by the looney Jareth and his lovely family. Titus walked quietly and briskly through the streets, earning many hellos from customers he'd recognized. He merely nodded in return, keeping his head low. His heavy leather boots met the familiar path that lead to the pub. He searched the crowd in front of the bar eagerly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pretty barmaid Kyra.

He did, and his face began to light up. He quickened his pace, even though he knew when he arrived, he wouldn't know what to say to Kyra or her father, who was out rambling about a legend of some sort. As he edged closer, a red blur went flew through his peripheral vision. He then heard a weird squashing sound as a tomato hit the side of the lovely barmaid's face. The snicker behind him let him know who the culprit was.

It was some little shit kids, running their mouths and throwing perfectly good food. They fled, but they weren't about to get out of his grasp! He dug around in his pocket, finding a small ball of metal. He tossed it gently at the kid, watching it pop him in the back of the head. The kid yelped, turned and met the glare of Titus. The group fled, intimidated. A smirk lit up his handsome features.

The voice of Jareth calling to him and a blonde girl made him remember what he was there to do; visit the pub. Jareth said he worked too hard and needed a break-come by his pub for a drink and a story. Titus offered the older man a small smile. "Jareth, I come to your pub every Friday- you know I'll be there. Heading there now. Maybe I'll stay for your story." He knew many found the man crazy, but Titus was intrigued. A way to defeat their current king?

He looked up at Kyra's tomatoed face, suddenly at a loss for words. He found his voice quickly. "Hello, Kyra. Good to see you." He spoke softly.

The 'lassie' Jareth had gotten ahold of was Vivian. "Oooh, a story! I'd love to hear- I'll be there! The bar opens soon anyways, doesn't it?" She continued on. "I'd love to hear this legend. Maybe it'll inspire me to draw something new!"

"She caught a glimpse of Kyra's face and gasped. "Woah, what happened? Where's the lil shits that did this? Do I need to teach em a lesson?" She started to reach for her paints.

"I took care of them," Titus mumbled gruffly. He didn't want Vivian to make a scene! He wasn't sure why she reached for paint, though. He wasn't aware of her abilities. Unsure of what else to say, he continued on. "I'm uh- gonna go sit at the pub." He knew they weren't exactly open yet, but being a regular, he was sure they wouldn't mind. With that, he walked into the pub, taking his usual seat up at the counter.

 

The bell at the tavern door jingled and Brant looked up from wiping down the counters, preparing to open for the night. He wasn't expecting customers just yet, but smiled when he saw Titus's familiar face come through the door. He grabbed a tumbler off the shelf and set it down as Titus took a seat at the bar.

"Evenin' Titus. The usual, I presume?" Brant chuckled, and without waiting for an answer, he reached under the bar and grabbed a bottle of gin. He poured a generous amount into the glass, replaced the bottle, and topped it off with tonic water. He slid the glass over into Titus's waiting hand. "Is that Jareth out there yelling. I presume?" He sauntered out from behind the bar and walked over to the window. He wiped some of the dust away and peered out at the cloudy sky. He could see Kyra, Jareth and Vivian headed for the pub. He flipped the sign in the window to open and headed back behind the bar.

Outside, Cardiff sat on a barrel, picking at the strings of his banjo as passersby tossed coins into the case at his cloven feet. He looked up as Jareth came down the street, shouting about some legend. Many of the people quickly took off down other roads to avoid a lecture from the town drunk, but Cardiff's long ears lifted in curiosity. He placed his banjo carefully back into its case and slung it around his shoulder. He saw Brant turn the sign over in the window and headed over to the pub. As intrigued as he was about Jareth's so called legend, he was more excited about the bar being open. The bell on the door jangled again as Cardiff entered. His hooves clacked against the wooden floor as he made his way to take a seat at the bar.

Brant was quick to serve Cardiff's usual drink, a foamy mug of ale, greeting him with a smile. "Eager to start drinking tonight, aren't you?"

"Like every night. You should know by now." Cardiff chuckled and took a hearty swig from his mug, letting out a refreshed sigh. He nodded in greeting to Titus. "Seems like Jareth's got a story lined up for tonight, from the sounds of it. Screaming about some legend? I saw you talking to him before I came in, you know anything about it?"

 

Titus felt himself relax as he was surrounded by a familiar atmosphere and people. As always, the friendly bartender Brant was there waiting to serve him drinks. Though Brant wasn't blood related to the rest of the pub workers, Titus was sure he was family to them. The bar wouldn't be the same without Brant. Titus appreciated the buff man for seeming to go out of his way to talk to him. The blacksmith had always been a quite guy. "Hey, Brant. Yeah, I'll take my usual." As he watched Brant prepare his beverage, the two held a small conversation on the commotion outside.

"That's Jareth alright. He's telling some story tonight..a legend about the king and an heir of some sort. I promised I'd stay and listen." The familiar clopping of hooves hit Titus's ears as Cardiff entered the bar, taking his usual seat next to him. Like Brant, he asked about Jareth.

"Heya, Cardiff. Yeah, ol' Jareth says he's got a story about a way to," he began to whisper to the older satyr, "A way to overthrow Cage. Something about an heir of some sort." He sipped his drink, nodding to Brant in thanks. The drink was cool and delicious, the strong liquid slid down his throat with ease. Brant was a wonderful bartender.

Kyra had come back out, prepared to work, her pink hair in a pretty ponytail. Titus watched her walk across the room. He admired her work ethic and found her very pretty. He really hoped she'd be working the bar tonight. It was true her sister didn't spill the alcohol as much as she did, but Kyra was more enjoyable to talk to. Agatha only flirted and urged you to purchase more alcohol. While Kyra did flirt, she talked about many different subjects, making the night enjoyable.

Vivian had only been to the Aye Pub a couple of times, so she wasn't a regular. This also meant that the arguments between Kyra and Agatha were still new to her. She stood by a table that Caroline was cleaning, unsure of what to do. She grit her teeth as she listened to Agatha's cruel words- and then Carolina sided with her! What the heck! Vivi didn't get to help Kyra get revenge from those kids earlier, but she'd help her with Agatha, this time!

Titus sat quietly, sipping on his second beverage as Brant and Cardiff began to converse with each other. He sat and listened to the twins of the pub bicker. Agatha was very harsh to Kyra- and he didn't like it. It wasn't long before the busty Agatha catwalked over to the bar, leaning over so that the men at the bar had a good view of her womanly assets. He blushed, but was thankful that he was sober enough that he wouldn't stare at her.

"Hello, Agatha." Titus said, keeping his eyes on his drink. He though about what she said about her father. He hadn't heard the story yet, so he wasn't going to say it was bologna! "I'd like to hear it. I'd do anything to get the king overthrown." He said, thinking back to his father's death. It was then that Agatha was called over to help her mother out. She began to strut over, her hips swaying about.

Calcifer, Titus's talking sword, who had been quiet all this time, unfortunately began to hoot and holler at the young woman. "Woo, babyyyy! Back that thing up! Dayum! Sweet heavenly blessed beauty!" The sword wiggled in it's scabbard, eagerly wanting to be drawn out.

The blacksmith had been taking a sip of his drink when his sword began to shout vulgar things. He coughed, choking as the harsh liquid went down the wrong way. His face was red as a beet, and he looked around frantically. "I-uh- It wasn't me! I-It was my sword, honest!" He felt himself growing nervous; what if they threw him out over his sword's behaviour? "I usually leave him at home, but I forgot today, honest!" This was probably the loudest and most frantic Titus had ever spoken in awhile. He'd shown a few of the people there his talking sword, and it had a different voice than Titus, so hopefully someone believed him!

Vivian wanted to laugh at Titus's sword's words, but she was too focused on tripping Agatha. The twin of Kyra hadn't been paying attention to her walking as her attention was drawn to Titus and his sword. As Agatha walked past her, Vivian stuck her foot out, and tripped her! As she landed on the floor, a small squeak was heard. Vivian then snickered, a look of triumph in her eyes. "Oh, what a mess! You should really watch where you are walking." she said with fake concern in her voice. She glanced at the floor, at the rag she had placed there. It would look as though Agatha tripped on a rag, instead of her foot!

Alfie wriggled and squirmed underneath the curvy woman. Oh he should have flown higher, or gotten out of the way in time! He wouldn't have been in this predicament if he had. He squirmed out from under her stomach. Unfortunately for him, due to his small height, no one had seen him slip into the door behind Cardiff. The tiny child-like fairy dusted off his robes, before stammering to Agatha. "O-Oh, I'm sorry!" He hurried over to one of her hands, picked it up with his two, and began to fly up, attempting to help her get up with no avail. He was too small!

"I should've watched where I was going.." he mumbled, as if her tripping was his fault. He was scared to find out how she was feeling, afraid it would be anger. He sensed the air around him being happy and cheery, laughter all over. Whether it was from her fall, or the vulgar comments from the talking sword, he didn't know.

"Aw, a tiny man!" Vivian cooed wanting to hug. She helped him help Agatha up, so she didn't look at fault for her tripping.

"I-I'm a fairy.." he said shyly. He was growing bashful at the many eyes on him. Titus was eyeballing him from the bar. He had a thankful look on his face; glad that attention wasn't on him anymore. The tiny fairy, Alfie, began to fidget with his sprout hat, before heading to Caroline. "H-Hi, Ma'am. My yeti friend and I reserved a table tonight.." he gulped. "He should be here soon.." The tiny fairy blushed, unsure of what to say. He then fluttered quickly over to the bar, having to sit on the table due to his shortness. Vivian followed him, taking a seat next to Cardiff, giving all the men a cheery smile.

"Hi, boys!" She said, pulling her dress down. She turned her eyes onto Brant. "What do you suggest I drink tonight, big fella?" She'd only been there a couple of times, so she didn't know what was good. "D-Do you serve any juices?" Alfie added. He was old enough to drink, but couldn't handle it much due to his size.

 

She hadn't planned on going there.

The cobblestone streets of the city had looked all the same when she'd first arrived, and looking around even today, they hadn't changed in the least. If anything, Gargoloth looked more depressing than usual.

She'd already been over to one of the other taverns, made one half-hearted attempt at flirting if only to take her mind of the rest of her life troubles and to perhaps find some companionship for a short time. Of course, as was expected, arguments broke out, anger took hold, and she'd been forced to leave before her temper could properly take hold. Even now she was tempted to march straight back to the bar she'd left and de-limb the centaur who had threatened to have her trampled in public.

As she walked through the streets, raindrops began to patter in time with her footsteps. The droplets spattered off the worn stonework in a seemingly fixed rhythm and soon the entirety of the city was caught in a torrential downpour. Rain was streaming off the glass windows of the homes and places of business and driving the citizens to any shelter available. Lanterns were re-lit and torches were covered as best they could be by anxious travelers and merchants who sought to keep the last bits of light in the city ablaze through the coming night.

And all through the shower, nobody noticed that the cloaked traveler suddenly stopped, turned her covered head up towards the sky, and scattered the rain. it continued to fall around and about her, but within mere inches of her, not a drop fell or was felt. Continuing her slow walk, she made her way towards the most brightly lit place in the city. As she drew close, she could hear raucous voices within.

She stopped.

She was in no mood for merrymaking, but she didn't want to exert herself in keeping the rain away for much longer, and the place did seem to be the most brightly lit. The rain was obscuring most of the details with the gathering darkness, but she could just make out a wooden sign hanging from a metal frame that read "Aye Pub". Resigning herself to what would probably be a night of forced merriment, she began making her way towards the brightly lit tavern.

"And in the sweeping darkness, I met a warrior mighty,
He wore no armor but moved with grace and held his ideals most tightly,"

She blinked at the sound. She was used to many things in Gargoloth now. Despair, anger, touches of idealism and hope, but mostly resignation.

Singing in public was a new one.

"Nearer I drew and closer I came,
Hoping to learn this fighter's name,
A lover, a hero, a monster, a villain?
A traveler from lands where even I've not been?"

The voice drew closer as her desire to punch whoever was making the infernal racket on a stringed instrument grew greater.

"Bearing straight, shoulders proud
VOICE BURSTING WITH DECLARATIONS OF GREATNESS LOUD!
SURELY HE'LL STOP THE KING AND HIS CLAN
THIS GREAT AND POWERFUL MA-"

She could stand it no longer and whirled, lashing out with a high kick designed to catch the figure behind her across the face.

Instead, her foot clanged off a metal shaft. Leaping back as the rain shield fell and the torrent soaked her anew, she found herself facing....something. It was clad entirely in clothes with a green and black diamond pattern that made it hard to properly distinguish whether the thing was even human or not. His eyes and the areas around them were red, and even his face was painted green with black stripes running vertically and making him look for all the world like a desert plant she'd once encountered when she was...younger. He was holding the stringed instrument by its bowl and handle; strings inward with the wrought metal shaft held like a staff.

"Apologies for the mistake of your sex, but you really should try not to break peoples' necks." He said in a sing-song voice. "And a lady should not kick so high if she's fancy, for the rest of us may lay eyes on your-"

"That doesn't even rhyme properly." She said, cutting him off before he could go any further.

He stopped, coughing slightly before adjusting a tassled hat. Tossing the instrument over his shoulder, he straightened and clicked his heels together, delivering a mock salute. "Shall we be off to yonder bar then, angry maiden?"

"Don't call me that." She groaned, turning from him and continuing towards the bar just in time to hear a loud thud followed by a squeak of dismay. Things were sounding a bit wilder inside, and she fervently hoped that the loon wouldn't be following her.

"I say then if not angry maiden, what shall I call you?" He asked, skipping up behind her and twirling to a position ahead of her where he began walking backwards.

"Colena." She said shortly, picking up her pace. To her surprise, the jester's eyes bulged. The red paint around them widened as he did so adding to the effect and making him look even less human.

"The elvenfolk of Sycit grand,
Fell foul of a goblin band,
The land was lost and many died
Save the heir, the cyanide.

I say, would this "cyanide", this poison, be you?" He asked, backing up faster as she moved faster. "Named thus for the lethal poison as per your vow to end the reign of-"

THWACK

He had failed to look over his shoulder and Colena had backed him up all the way to the door where he'd slammed into it back-first. Smirking, she sidestepped him and tugged the door open. The interior was warm, well lit, and while there were more people in the bar than she had expected, it was not crowded. As she entered, one of the patrons was helping a girl with a plunging chasm of a neckline to her feet. Several others looked like they were in on a joke while the rest seemed oblivious. Casting an apraising eye on the barmaid, she moved to find a table before she could draw attention.

"I SAY!" An all too familiar voice bellowed from the door. Apparently winding him had done no good. "No warm welcome for the eccentric Gyrosco, the lost bard,"

Nononono She thought, Just shut up and...

"and no drink or food on the house for this fine young elf-prin-"

A damp cloak whirled like a great bird of prey across the room and caught Gyrosco in the face, sending him stumbling back and crashing into Agatha.

 

An answer to our problems? This question lingered in Tamir's mind as Jareth continued his ramble. The mage didn't have a whole lot to do later, so he figured he would stop by the pub. Walking forward a branch suddenly fell in front of his face, lashing out and scraping itself across his brow. Taking a step back, it seemed a small birch tree had grown suddenly, but Tamir knew better. "I believe we agreed you wouldn't do that again?" With a shimmer, the tree dissolved into a young girl who was giggling with glee. "Sorry," Gardenia replied, "But it's fun to do that!"

Tamir shook his head and laughed. "You really don't like to follow orders do you?" Turning away, he started toward the pub again. Gardenia huffed and followed him, her skirt flowing with her movement. "It wasn't an order!" Tamir laughed at her remark. "Wow, you really need to learn to take a joke, sweetie." This was rewarded by a swift kick to the back of his shin from Gardenia's boot. "Okay," Tamir mumbled, "I kind of deserved that. Lets just get to the pub."

Walking into the establishment, Tamir could already tell that there had been a bit of a commotion. Agatha was lying on the floor with a small fairy child desperately trying to help her up. Brant seemed to just not care about it and Kyra was going about her duties. Sitting down at the bar, Tamir nodded his greeting. "Scotch on the rocks for me," he said. With a smile and a gesture to Gardenia he added, "And I believe she would like a juice box."

Annoyed by his antics, Gardenia slapped the mage I the back of the head as she sat down next to Titus. "I'll take an ale, please," she corrected. Looking over at the blacksmith next to her, she took in his face and well toned body. Then a voice that wasn't the man's spoke up, outwardly complimenting Agatha. She tilted her head, confused, but thankfully Titus managed to explain it. The girl looked down at the sword. "I didn't know it could talk," she said to Titus.

 

"Hey babe in the cloak," Calcifer hooted from his spot on Titus's waist, calling to. "Take that cloak off, show some skin!!!"

Titus growled, gripping his sword tightly. "That's enough!" He began to sweat, worried the newcomer wouldn't believe that it was his sword that was talking. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. He never shuts up- I would've destroyed him by now if he wasn't so damned useful in battle.."

The woman, Colena, had then tossed her cloak at Gyrosco. So much commotion at once! As soon as Gyrosco and the cloaked woman entered the bar, so much began to happen. Agatha was dumped over once again, which Vivian thought she deserved. She was rude to her and Alfie! She snickered when her mother called her a 'hussy' and to do some work. She howled when she was dumped over again. "Karma is a bitch," she giggled from her seat and sipping at her fruity drink.

"I'm not a pixie.." Alfie mumbled gloomily from the table, sipping at his juicebox, which came up to his waist. He'd never be able to finish it. "I'm a fairy!" He added quietly, fluttering his wings.

Titus's hung his beet red face low, deciding it was probably best he didn't respond to Agatha- she didn't believe him about his sword anyways! He felt a pat on his shoulder, and looked up to see the teasing eyes of Kyra. Surely she believed him! Though her words sounded like she didn't believe him about his talking sword, her pat let him know she believed him. He sighed with relief. "It's the sword, I swear.."

Kyra took her position behind the bar, asking the newcomers, Tamir, Gardenia, Gyrosco and the woman what she could get them. Calcifer, the talking sword, seized the moment to make a raunchy comment. "I'd like a piece of that sweet ass, baby!!" Titus groaned, scowling down at his waist, where his sword was. "Stop it, Calcifer! You're going to get us kicked out..I'm NEVER taking you out again.."

It pleased the quiet blacksmith to know Kyra would be running the bar that evening alongside Brant; he threw Vivian a grateful look, knowing she'd really tripped Agatha. It was a smart move on her part. A young, pretty brunette lady took a seat next to Titus. He noted she had very nice hair. The blacksmith had seen her around a couple of times, her name was Gardenia. He watched as her eyes looked him over, before they made eye contact. He looked away, embarrassed; why did she look at him like that? She'd asked about his sword. "Yeah, unfortunately he talks..often getting me in trouble with women." He made eye contact with her again. "Please ignore anything he says-"

"Of course I can talk, babe! I can also know how to please a woman, come home with us and I'll show you a fun-" Titus smacked the side of his sheathed sword, hissing at it. "Shut up!!" His face was red again. He grabbed his glass, gulping down the strong, alcoholic beverage.

Next to Vivian sat Tamir, who had ordered a scotch on the rocks. She'd only seen the man a few times. She looked at his attire curiously, before saying with a slightly buzzed smile. "Hi. Are you a wizard?" She watched as his drink was being made. "What does that taste like?"

Multiple thuds from behind Alfie let him know that his best friend, Zog, had arrived. The big furry Yeti had called his name out childishly as he came up from behind him. "Zog!!" He yelled happily, rushing to hug the big white fluff ball's chest. He basically got lost in it- all you could really see left of the fairy boy was his sprout hat. "They're telling a story here tonight, Zog! A legend! Won't that be fun to hear??" He handed the Yeti his juicebox, knowing he wouldn't finish it. "Here's some juice!!"

By then, Jareth was on top of the largest table in the pub- a large around one in the middle- clapping his hands, getting everyone's attention for the story. Vivian's heart pounded with excitement. "Woohoo, story time! Let's go!" She grabbed Cardiff and Tamir by their hands, hoping to drag them to the large round table for the story. Knowing he'd promised Jareth he'd listen to the legend, he moved to the table, too.

"Might as well get close.." He mumbled to whoever was listening.

 

The catcalling was nothing new.

The fact that a sword was somehow able to see her and yell from across the tavern however, was another story.

Colena resigned herself to what was likely to be a long evening where she wasn't likely to have a chance at drinking the most obnoxious of the people under the table. She'd caught enough of the names through conversations already to begin moving people into categories. Alfie, Brant, and Cardiff, she had absolutely no opinion of; Jareth, Gyrosco, and the talking sword could drown; Kyra, Agatha, Tamir, and Titus were decent as far as she was concerned, and Gardenia and Vivian...

Gyrosco plonked himself down in a chair next to her, scraping its wooden legs across the floor and dragging her out of her own thoughts. At the same instant, he slammed a tankard down in front of her. He was already drinking himself, and she realized she hadn't heard him order any drinks.

She didn't ask how he'd made it behind the bar and back out without attracting the attention of someone in the room.

"Drink up, get drunk, be a lush! Stop being so cold and let's see some blush!" He called in a voice far too loud for her ears. Standing and accepting the drink reluctantly, she made her way across the room as everyone else began to gather around the big table, sitting herself down behind Vivian as the young woman practically dragged the others to the center table. She would have sat next to her but for the fact that sitting meant putting her at a lower angle than the already-buzzed old man, and she had absolutely no desire to catch a glance under his kilt. She momentarily pitied anyone close enough and wondered if the talking sword would let loose its own feelings on the matter. Even as her mind turned to the others around her and back to years ago however, a voice whispered at her back.

"Backing away from the happy drunk, hoping you won't catch a glimpse of his-"

Someone, she didn't see who, elbowed the mad jester, blessedly silencing him. The corners of Colena's lips twitched upwards for less than a second; all that passed for a smile on her these days.

She had some idea as to what this "legend" Jareth's was going to be about. She'd heard the tale and lived parts of it herself. She could only hope that Gyrosco wasn't going to jump up and volunteer to contribute what was now known as "The Last War of Sycit".

"Ahem." The jester coughed.

Colena looked at him in horror. He was already standing.

"If I might contribute some to this tale
Though my skills may yet pale
I hope it would not be crude
If with music I might lighten the mood?"



Elsewhere, the merrymaking went entirely unheard. In fact, many things in Gargaloth's walls went unheard in the Astray Forest.

But that did not mean they were unknown.
Surrounding much of the immense walled city, trees towered close together over a dark woodland that remained almost completely covered in darkness even in the brightest of days. Sunlight lanced through in several areas, and at best the light illuminated dangers otherwise unseen and rendered them all the more terrifying for anyone foolish enough to wander among the ancient forest. Trunk and root had grown thick and gnarled over time, creating a veritable labyrinth of shadow and savagery. Even the most sure-footed of explorers would think himself on solid ground, only to put one foot wrong a step later and vanish into a hole formed by a network of creaking roots.

It was a realm unto itself; one that even the new King was wary of, or so travelers said before vanishing.

That was one of King Cage's favorite punishments. To imprison his enemies for a time; however long it took their hope to fade and their dreams to die. In the end, he would personally visit them in prison; throwing open the door and casting off their irons with his bare hands. He would speak grandly to them of great and tragic misunderstanding, of how justice had been grievously miscarried against them, and with a comforting arm, he would speak then of their newfound freedom and how his personal carriage would escort them free of Gargoloth's walls.

Less than an hour later, the poor wretch would be thrown from the carriage into a designated clearing just inside the Astray Forest and abandoned.

Such was the state Brandrus now found himself in. He had been in the cells for seven years for supposedly...he couldn't remember any longer. All he knew was that he had suddenly been granted freedom, escorted happily from the castle, and now...

He gulped, looking around. Supposedly there was a trail out of the clearing he was in. He could hear the carriage rattling away madly in the distance, but the wood and foliage around him muffled and distorted the sound and he couldn't tell which direction it was coming from.

And so he fled for his life.

Stumbling wildly, he did not so much run as he did crash. Through several root-mazes, over one branch, and scrambling through moss patches and giant spider-webs he went, sobbing wildly and tearing his clothes as he went. Almost immediately, he had heard the growling behind him, and didn't dare turn back.

To his side, he caught a red flash, and something moving within the crimson light. Tripping, he fell flat on his face as the growling neared and became a roar. Crawling now, he fell through the ground and into a small depression. Something crashed by overhead, followed by another burst of red light. Now looking as wild and frantic as he felt, Brandrus tore his way through the relative underground, ripping through grass and vines back into the near-blackness of the forest. Above and ahead, the red light arced, turning through tree and branch where it abruptly vanished.

He now heard many noises, deafening roars and a multitude of howls. It seemed in that instant that the entire forest had come to live around him. Shades of midnight blue, dark grey, and pitch black plaid about with his sight as he spun blindly.

Stepping backwards, he felt hot breath on his neck and nearly blacked out from terror. Stumbling, he fell away from the soruce of the growling and found himself seized by a pair of claws that lifted him into the trees. Whirling madly against the clutches of whatever had him, he spun and tried to wrench himself free to no avail. All he accomplished was shredding his ragged robes even further as whatever had him leaped higher into the branches. The roars receded below him. Brandrus almost began to believe he had actually died when she was hauled to the broken top of a tree taller than the rest; only a thin layer of leafy twigs that failed to keep the moonlight out were above him now.

He found himself shoved back against the edge of the craggy wooden perch and staring into red eyes.

 

Naomi walked into the bar, fiddling with her dragon charm on her necklace. "Hey guys, I heard something about a legend." She felt comfortable in the bar, she didn't have to act all cheerful. She pulled out her cornet and started spinning it on her finger. "There is a dark mage in their army who I have a bone to pick with." Naomi walked to one of the empty tables and started to play with a bit of fire, blowing it through her cornet while she played it.
Flare, Naomi's little lizard, walked of of her shoulder and onto the table. It started slamming one of its feet onto the table, asking for a drink. Naomi put down her instrument and started petting the little reptile. "Sometimes I forget you aren't like a dragon and can't talk Flare. But you should know by now you can't have beer. Maybe just some water. Hey Brant, could I get some chili juice and some water for Flare?" She could never tell if she was rude to him, since she knew what most people hated, but surprisingly not any of the regular customers at the bar. She didn't need to as she trusted them.

------------------------------------------------
"Oh great it's dim." Joshua looked through the bar window at his regular seat and saw a slight shadow around it. "Guess it's a wrapping around the mark this time." He pulled out a strip of gauze and wrapped it around where he knew his mark would glow if he was in even the slightest bit of shadow. He walked into the bar and half way to his seat, he noticed a girl sitting in the corner of the bar. "What's Naomi doing here. She's never normally here on Fridays." He started swearing under his breath, hoping that she wouldn't see him and recognized him, even though it had been 18 years since they had last seen each other. "Hey guys, how's everyone doing. I've heard someone's got a story to tell."

 

Brant served out drinks deftly, making sure to woo every lady that crossed the bar with a wink. A slew of people were beginning to file into the bar, a little more than usual this early in the night, but he had a handle on it. A lot more people seemed to be curious about Jareth's story then he expected. The onslaught of customers seemed to catch poor Agatha off-guard as she was battered and thrown around by a few hapless guests. He couldn't help but chuckle and took a moment to drink in the view of her ample backside in the air. He had a nice view from his vantage point behind the bar. He turned his attention to Kyra as she came behind the bar. As lovely as Agatha was because of her blessed figure, Brant enjoyed Kyra's company more because of her cheery attitude.

"Good to see you back here again, Kyra, love! I was beginning to think your mother would never let you back here." He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and quickly planted a kiss on her cheek before she could shove him away. He let her go and turned back to his duties, serving a small dish of water and a cup of chili juice to Naomi on the other end of the bar with a flourish.

Cardiff, meanwhile, was thrilled with the presence of another bard bringing up the prospect of music to add to Jareth's story. The satyr downed the dregs of his ale and slammed his cup down before heading over to take a seat near Gyrosco, swinging his banjo around to settle it in his lap. The strings let out a twang as he brought his fingers down upon them. He got comfortable, leaning his chair back to rest on two legs, crossing his own hoofed legs up on the table where Jareth stood. His fingers sped softly over his banjo in anticipation of the legend, filling the room with its cheerful vibe.

 

Vivian sat comfortably by Tamir, waiting for Jareth to start telling his story. Many chose to sit away from Jareth, afraid they'd be able to see up under his kilt. Vivian was sitting rather close to him, but thankfully he was far enough away on the table she couldn't see up it! If she could, she didn't know what she'd do. She glanced around the room, wondering who else had come in to listen to the story.

Naomi and Joshua had then entered the bar. She'd seen them around the kingdom quite a bit, but never talked to them much. She'd heard rumors that Naomi was actually a dragon trapped in a human form. She'd never asked the girl about it, in case it was true. She doubted any dragon would like staying in a human form.

Titus looked away when Brant began flirting with Kyra. He knew they were good friends and possibly were attracted to each other. He stared at his drink, finding himself in an awkward position. He began to fidget with Calcifer, in hopes the sword would shut up. Before he knew it, Kyra was eye-level with the sword, calling him a pervert and poking him. Titus blushed at her closeness.

"I'm not a pervert, baby! I just wanna be your lover!" The sword began to wiggle and sing Prince, much to Titus's annoyance. He balled up his fist, which caused the metal around Calcifer's mouth to scrunch him, making him unable to speak.

"That outta shut him up for awhile." Titus grumbled, watching Kyra as she walked back behind the bar. "He's so great in combat, but it's hard to get him to shut up. I've tried to sell him, but no one wants a perverted sword." Kyra went on to say she hoped no one threw glasses at her father tonight- she didn't want to clean them up. "I'll help you clean them up," Titus added quickly, before looking at his glass again. "Wouldn't want you to cut yourself on any glass.."

The twangy sound of a banjo filled the air, along with the cheerful voice of Gyrosco. Cardiff, whose face looked flushed from the alcohol, relaxed back in his seat, filling the air with his banjo's tunes. It was quite catchy, even if the instrument and the singing didn't go together. Jareth cheered on the band, asking for Kyra to come on up with her bagpipes. Titus didn't even know she played. He turned to ask her about it, but found her ducking under the table. She didn't want to play!

"Kyra, Kyra, Kyra!" Vivian cheered, knowing the lady was a prodigy on the bagpipes. "Come on, come play!" She hoped Kyra wouldn't get mad at her for chanting her name. Vivian was already tapping her foot to the music. Having just had alcohol, she wanted to dance! She floated about the room, finding herself next to the giant Yeti, Zog.

"Zog!" She called happily, looking up into his cheerful face. "Let's dance!" She grabbed his large hands, hopping about around him. She giggled and twirled, feeling more girly than normal. She enjoyed the music and singing around her, having a good time. If Jareth decided to tell the story, she would sit down.

From up on top of Zog's head, Alfie was dancing about, holding onto one of Zog's horns for support. The flower on his hat had bloomed in his happiness.

 

Tamir smiled at Vivian's inquiry. "Well, it's good but it may take a bit to get used to at first." He took a sip of his drink and shook his head. That stuff was really strong! He found himself being dragged over to the table Jareth stood on. Thankfully, Tamir was far enough away he couldn't see up the man's kilt; that would have been a disaster. A few bards had decided to show up and and some music to the story; Tamir couldn't help but stifle a laugh at Gyroscoro's outfit. He looked ridiculous, but at least he played well. Jareth even called out Kyra to play bagpipes, which she clearly did not want to oblige. "Aw, come on, Kyra! Toot those pipes!" In all honesty, the mage was much more interested in the tale to be told, but he figured he could have some fun while Jareth tried to rally around an audience.

Gardenia gasped at the sword's comment to her; she hid her face and turned away to hide her embarrassment. She never knew that a sword could be so provocative with its remarks! Trying to come up with a good comeback, she blubbered, "S-s-sorry, I don't think you could handle this magnificence of mine." She made an elegant motion, gesturing to her slim body, her face bright red. She really hoped Titus could get the dumb sword under control, she didn't want to be a victim of its catcalling again.

 

For a moment, the music seemed determined to take over the evening, merriment going on heedless of the pouring rain just outside.

And then Gyrosco brought the reverie to a crashing halt by hitting several off key-notes that were sure to jar some people. Twirling around on one foot, he teetered and fell towards Titus, stopping inches from the other's face while staying perfectly balanced at a twenty degree angle.

"Accompaniment for now," He whispered, straightening back to his usual standing height and strumming again in a lower tone to allow Jareth to begin the story, "to the end of the tale when the man takes his bow. After the old legend who can say, but my words fill the time from then 'til today."


Colena sighed. The mad jester had been dropping hints ever since he entered the bar, and if his knowledge of events was as extensive as he'd implied it to be, she was going to have to deal with more than her share of stares and behind-the-back whispers before too long. Her entrance had of course, been less than subtle, but so far the only ones who'd seemed to pay her any mind were already two of the most annoying. One of the two was on the table plucking strings crazily. The elf at the bar -she'd heard several people call him Brant- had offered her a drink complete with a wink and a downward flicker of the eyes that made her glad her dress fastened itself at the neck.

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she focused instead on the new arrivals. One of them was furtive if not outright suspicious. His eyes flickered everywhere and widened perceptibly at...someone. Despite his cloak, she could see movement beneath it that suggested he was concealing something, or doing his best to at any rate. He was rattled and in turn rattled Colena. She couldn't put her finger on it, and so as she did with most troubles these days, she turned her mind away. She glanced at the other new arrival; a young woman in red and white with a pet lizard who seemed both eager to hear whatever the loon in the kilt had to say, and at the same time, tense about something unseen. In short, she seemed to be more grounded in reality than most of the people in the tavern.

Then Colena saw the Cornet.

Please just be a decent person and don't blare that thing too loudly. She thought, slumping forward and letting her head hit the table with a dull thunk.




Away and down, there was a prisoner.

In the Grinding Pit, someone was shackled.

The prisoner had lost count of the days since being locked away in the deepest recesses of the castle in a cell whose only means of access was a grating embedded in the ceiling. Day after day, flakes of old stone and dust rained down into the cell, and still, the prisoner refused to beg, cry, or even give vent to the miserable allergens.

The cells were normally constructed of stone and wood with metal frames and doors of steel that were said to be capable of withstanding even a full ramming squad. Each cell was bare; loose straw bedding having been discarded after a particularly gruesome incident with an imprisoned pyromancer.

To top it off, they moved.

Constructed after Cage's ascension, The Grinding Pit was a vast amphitheater of cells of varied shapes and sizes arranged in concentric rings that led in and down to the centermost cells, one of which was occupied by the prisoner. Behind and beneath the cells, a series of gears, axles, and joints made up a vast underground clockwork that turned each ring, each cell, and even each cell door in opposing directions; clockwise, counter, clockwise, counter...

Several times, outside parties had attempted to break in, believing they knew which cell a comrade was held in and believing they had a chance. The second they encountered the gigantic array of slowly spinning and rotating floors, gateways, and rooms however, they usually lost heart and were quickly rounded up. Some would be shoved through small doors into massive cells, while others were roughly pushed through eight-foot entrances into cells barely big enough to stand in.

And all the while, the great rasping noise drove occupants mad and the grating stones of the Grinding Pit showered their dust and flakes down on the prisoner in one of the ten center cells at the very bottom.

And still, the prisoner did not show any sign of life beyond breathing.

The prisoner was patient.

The time would come...

 

Naomi couldn't help but wince as Gyrosco played the off key notes. "Seriously, if your job is a minstrel, you may as well play properly. I would show you up right now, but there is a story to be told and it looks like one of us has had enough music for the night." She looked over at Colena." And if you ever want to listen to some decent new music, come meet me sometime. You look like you have a bit of a story to tell yourself." She grabbed her juice and Flare's water of Brant and went back to her. Flare started pouting at the sight of the water and went for the chili juice. "Stop it you stupid lizard. Last time you had some of this you ran straight up my dress and... well, it was uncomfortable." She shuddered remembering it then grabbed it and started to drink before Flare could get to it.

-----------------------------------------------------
Joshua decided to whistle for his hummingbird Henry. He thought the bird would want to hear the story as well, but it was more for the music. The little hummingbird loved all kinds of music, and he often was forced to listen to minstrel performances because of it. The bird flew in right when the jester hit the off key notes and even it couldn't help turning its head. Naomi shouted out and he just couldn't help slamming his face on the table. He whispered, "Oh Naomi, why do you have to try to show people up." He decided to just rest his head on the table until the story started, even though he had a habit of falling asleep when he did this.

 

What should have been a hearty applause gave way to a few claps, a good deal of silence, and then a considerable amount of derision and anger. For all he could tell, the majority of the patrons had come for drinks and perhaps some music. They had not come to hear any legends, or at least not the particular story Jareth had told. It was a pity; the rhyming seemed a bit rusty to him, but the heart behind it was certainly sincere and it seemed to strike a rare note of optimism seldom seen in the city.

And so it was that when the first mug was thrown, Gyrosco gripped his mandolin by the handle and spun about on one foot; catching the drinking glass in the bowl of the instrument and lobbing it straight back along the path it had come. He normally was not one for violence, but he could not deny the satisfying PLENK the glass made as it struck the offending customer square in the middle of his forehead, dropping him where he sat.

Unfortunately, his return salvo had been so elaborate that in the process many more mugs had flown past him towards the suddenly winged man who was already scrambling back behind the counter.

"It's your business if you think the story is dusty
But to buy drinks from girls one tall and one busty
Then jeer and berate their old man takes some sass!
You've each had your head swapped with your a-"

He pitched forward suddenly, head spinning as the metal pitcher which had struck him from behind tumbled to the table's surface, striking the wooden top and splashing its contents on those who had been seated close by. Bad form to attack from the rear, even worse to aim the shot at a chap's ear... he thought as he tumbled crazily off the table and onto Vivian.


Colena hadn't been all that interested in that portion of the legend. She'd heard the story and the rumors concerning a hidden child once before, and at the very least some mild interest was piqued in knowing that there was yet another lost female heir to an overthrown kingdom. Unlike the old tales however, she doubted this one was going to be solved at the hands of some armored wandering prince from some far away land.

And then the attack on the performer had begun in earnest. She'd heard of such things happening during her time in the city, but for the most part such...indignity was confined to local gossip. Certainly in a realm where the majority of people seemed resigned to the rule of a usurper, the derision of such nostalgia was understandable.

But the acceptance of such a loss was something that annoyed her to no end. Standing sharply, she stretched her hand out and pushed in a way she hadn't in months.

And so it was in the middle of the jeering that several of the onlookers who had been lobbing their drinking vessels suddenly found their mugs halting in mid-air; either caught by their remaining droplets or suspended by the floating remains of a half-slurped ale. She let them spin lazily in place, allowing the various pieces of glass and metal to catch the lights of the tavern in their own way and hopefully catch the eyes of the crowd long enough to give the performers time to scramble. Jareth was behind the bar now, and Gyrosco was unconscious on top of one of the young women at the table.

She was about to speak when a glass, fully dried, whizzed out from behind the hovering tankards and goblets, breaking on the edge of one and catching her across the cheek. She ignored it and the tinkling noise as it shattered on the wall behind her. Even as a thin green rivulet ran from the wound, she was already shifting the blood in the area and forcing it to clot quicker. Another technique she hadn't used recently, and she noted with some concern that the hovering glasses and mugs were starting to waver.

"Shith'va sul nyar ko rakna lisch'kk!" She spat, straining the injury on her face slightly as she directed the hovering glasses roughly to the tables they had come from. Whatever your race, act with more dignity than orclings! She doubted many of them would understand her native tongue, but she hoped the display would quell further outbursts, or at the very least stop the otherwise angry yeti from going on a rampage.

 

Kyra once again was poking at Calcifer, saying he wasn't her type. She then went on to describe a man she desired, while making glances at Titus. When she finished, he blushed. The man she described sort of sounded like him! But it couldn't be him- could it? He scratched the back of his head nervously. "A-A hardworker-"

Agatha had opened her ugly mouth again and interrupted him. He gave her a scowl, and watched as Kyra went to work again. Much to his pleasure, she accepted his offer to help clean up afterwards- if glasses were to be thrown. "If anybody tries to throw anything, I'll throw 'em out. And I'm sure Brant would, too." Titus pitied the old man Jareth. Even if his story wasn't true, a good story is nice to hear every once in awhile. It'd give some people hope, at least.

At that moment, Kyra was brought on stage, playing her pipes. Her pretty wings fluttered about, and Titus was sure many men were swooning over them at that moment- he was starting to himself. Good music flooded his ears, along with the off-tune voice of Gyrosco. Just when he thought he couldn't take his eyes off of Kyra, the feminine voice of Gardenia spoke up.

She made a feeble attempt to make a comeback at Calcifer's crude catcalling. Titus couldn't help but grin. The petite nymph's face was almost as red as his was earlier! She'd gestured towards her body, and he couldn't help but look; he'd had alcohol! He made sure his eyes didn't linger, though. He made eye contact with her, grinning shyly. "Don't worry; I've twisted his mouth shut. He should be quiet for awhile now." He turned his attention to Jareth. "Looks like he's about to begin his telling." Titus swiveled his well toned body around in his chair, getting comfortable for the tale.

Vivian gave a drunken giggle as she and Zog danced. Who knew a Yeti could dance so well! Though he mainly just stomped his feet, it was fun. Before long, it was time to start the story, and Zog took his seat. Alfie had been thrown off his head from the impact, almost plopping onto a redheaded woman's head. Thankfully, he stopped himself with his wings before he landed on her, and fluttered back to Zog's head. "Yep!" He replied to Zog when he asked if he could see. He could see the chaos that was the band and the story teller. Alfie was overwhelmed with all the positive emotions that were swimming in the room.

Seeing as it was story time, Vivian took her seat by Tamir again, giving him a cheery wave. She noted that he said his drink was strong. "Heh, I like fruity drinks!" She went quiet when Jareth began his rhyming tale.
As Jareth told his tale, Vivian couldn't help but get out her drawing tools, deciding to draw a scene from the story. She drew the magnificent crystal in all its glory, and king Cage cowering in a corner, seemingly blinded by the light emitting off the crystal. It made the young woman wonder what this crystal looked like-if it were real. She clapped when the story was finished, thrilled by it. It really made her think. What if there really was an heir out there?

It wasn't long before glasses were being chucked at Jareth- who was not hiding. Vivian yelped, covering her head with her drawing book. Gyrosco was on the table again, sputtering out rhymes before being smacked with a metal pitcher, and tumbling onto Vivian, unconscious. Unfortunately for the young woman, the jester face planted into her bosom. Her facial expression was classic.

"W-Waaah!!" She squealed, shocked by the older man's sudden presence. She quickly pushed the unconscious man off of her. She stood, mortified by the state of her dress. Gyrosco's facepaint had made a mess on her dress! It looked like his face had been painted on her breasts. "Oh, I hope this comes off with water.." she mumbled, ducking under a table as drinks were being chucked.

Titus growled, outraged by the tossing of drinks. He'd barely had time to think about the story Jareth had told! How disrespectful. Thankfully most of the glasses and pitchers were made of metal, allowing him to stop them mid-air, and place them safely behind the counter and out of customers' reach. "If you're going to be disrespectful and throw things, then get the fuck out!" He growled angry, grabbing a stout man who was yelling profanity at Kyra and her father, and tossed him out the door.

Alfie, who had been hiding behind Zog, glanced about, looking for an opening to zip through between glass throwing. The negative emotions on the room were overwhelming! "Oh, goodness.." he mumbled, fear overcoming him. He'd hurried over to two men, making them feel anticipation to get home and sleep, causing them to hurry out the door. When the air was clear enough, he made his way to Tamir, hiding in the man's robes. "M-Mr. Mage! Please tell me you know a spell that will cause all the pitchers in the room to levitate out of everyone's reach.." he squeaked uneasily. From under her table, Vivian was drawing brooms, causing them to come alive off of the page and cleaning up the glass mess around the room. A few were even beating some rude customers out the door.