The Night the Truth Stood Still!

It is never a typical gather when such things happen at the Nexus. But this particular time was unique indeed. Two ugly enemies reared their heads to attack the citizens and even travelers in the town, like some big ugly thing… with two heads. Beastmen and Nightmare host. Not something anyone typically likes to mention and even worse when mentioned together. Apparently the very words we use act as fuel to those that would seek to harm wanderlings and folk alike. But while out words can fuel their power, their words can cause us to flee in terror or even strike out at those we care about. Beastmen, while a problem more mundane, arrive in larger numbers to the threat is no less. This particular story is only about the consequences of these encounters. The encounters themselves were truly heroic and best to be told around a camp fire with survivors there to fill in or add to the various bits.

The best way to start this tale is the also the best way to enter a nixie pool, dive in head first. So apparently I winked (or died as non-folk call it). I say apparently cause we wild folk keep no memory of the actual winking. At times that makes us a little reckless with our actions cause we don’t have the benefit of what has gone before. Typically we wake within a mushroom circle or beneath a particularly big mushroom. I have heard that some of the tree tamed folk wake beneath their beds. As we usually don’t have any to speak of that is only a guess. Since I have been in the forest I have encountered many strange things, but I couldn’t even pretend to make up what truly happened when I winked. I am told I was fighting beastmen (and doing a rather good job) when I was struck down from behind. Here is what I remember: I was preparing a rousing song I thought might get everyone excited and “wide-eyed” as we say in the grass lands. When I was suddenly being pulled by something I could not see to a garden. This garden was in a horrible state of repair as the sun was not very bright and everything appeared dismal. There was a very old man working in the garden and there were dim globes all around. The old man seemed much too tired and worn and before I had met him, I did not have a good idea what an old man really was (we don’t grow old in the glade, just bored). The globes were also unique in that in them were folk, dozens or more all around. Some seemed very sad (mostly bored) while some found a way to entertain themselves albeit in a pale comparison to true folk fashion. I realized I was in front of a house. I have no idea as to the outside or around it as I only clearly remember the garden and the door. There was a voice from within asking if there was a visitor. The garden, short of breath from standing (I believe) said there was and I was allowed in. I must say, despite being curious as to what was inside, I don’t think I could have avoided entering even if I didn’t want to.

Upon entering I say tables and chairs and other furniture, but much of it was old and seemed not in use or was covered up for storage. I would have say it looked like a study but since I have never seen one, I can only guess. There was a door that seemed both alive and horrid. It had markings that seemed to move about and writhe. There was a table with a couple of books and a large black globe. But there was also a man. He seemed older than the average wanderling I met but I’m not a good judge of age (remember no aging in the glade) and distinguished in a very dapper suit. He had glasses which gave him a scholarly appearance. He was not intimidating or rude but seemed both curious and business like. Not the boring business of a brownie, but as if he had a job and he would do it in the best way he could. He introduced himself as “The Guardian of the Gate of Hell” or the Gatekeeper. He explained that I had died. He also explained that if I think of winking (as we fairies do) I was at the point before my eye opened. He then asked me for my name. Now I must tell you I began to laugh and tell him he was crazier than a rabbit trying to fly, but then it was as if something had reached into my eyes with freezing cold fish hooks and pulled them all the way to my feet, spun them around till they had a good grip on my toes then slowly pulled them back out! Needless to say I was in such pain I couldn’t even stand but The Gatekeeper had a sad and sympathetic look and tried to comfort me as something spilled out of my mouth of its accord. After a few minutes of catching my breath and putting my eyes back in my head. He told me I could ask one question and he would answer it. I must admit, having been hurt to the point of exhaustion, I was in remarkably good spirits and this fellow seemed very polite and even interested in me. I couldn’t help but like him despite myself. I squatted on the ground in typical Wild Folk fashion and thought about what I wanted to know. Well something had happened that I was a little curious about, but mostly I wanted to know about spirits. Spirits are something I have yet to know very much about. So I asked him if knowing the name of a spirit would give you power over it. He said as much power as knowing the name of anything. What is most important is knowing the aspect of a spirit. When one knows what a spirit does or is supposed to do you can affect its nature or call upon its opposite to fight for you. It was very enlightening, at least for me and I thanked him and asked if he was alright or needed anything. He seemed flattered by that and explained that he had a job to do and regardless of his own wishes (which were benevolent) he could not deviate very far. He explained that Hell was a horrible place and that it was full so no more could be put in. He explained that is why the dead walk, because he could not send a soul to oblivion to make room for another. He then said we creatures of the light (Folk) could not pass the door of Hell, but that we too could only wink so often. The globes outside were the folk that had winked too many times. He explained that the garden was not so bad a place but that it was not true place for one of us and it would be better not to wink at all. He also explained that he had once been a healer in an order of healers from a city named Un (or Oun or maybe Uhn). He had acquired his current job when a powerful member of the Nightmare host had ripped the face off his predecessor. I told him that all sounded awful and I wished there was something I could do to help him. He explained that many Wanderlings had come this way and claimed they would find a way to restore the balance of Hell (or something like that). I told him I would see what I could do to help inspire that to happen. I was about to say something else when he told me I could not stay much longer and indeed, as if waking up from a dream (I couldn’t stop waking up from), I was in the middle of a mushroom circle outside of town. I am not very familiar with the town so I had to walk around a minute or two but when I found my way I ran in ready to put my armor on, wield my spear and play my war drum! All I knew was that there were beastmen to fight. Of course the battle had been over for a little while and I was little sad that I felt I had missed it, but apparently I had done very well. It’s not the same though.

Much went on later, but it had a lot to do with the spirits!

(work in progress…)