April 2021 Grab Bag - stories | poetry | art

Stories, poetry, artwork, whatever your talent to share - must be ElfQuest themed - and may contain canon ElfQuest characters (Cutter, Leetah, Skywise, etc) or custom characters of your own (as long as it's in the "ElfQuest" universe).

Your submissions should include at least one of these things (for art), and at least 3 of the 5 for stories (but let's see you use all five!)

Stories can be as long as you want them to be.

Elements:
A Joke/Jest/Prank (To honor "April Fool's Day" in the US - not sure if that's a thing outside of the US)
Easter Eggs
Dancing
Rain

My entry is running late. Im half done but I have a pinched nerve and its making it hard to do anything right now. Its getting there, just might be another few days.

Why shouldn` t Mers wear dresses? At first sight I thought, oh no, it looks ridiculous , but at second glance, ok why not, mers wanna have fun with gown too, lol!
Oops, is Yeee pranking King  Areias? Or is it a joke? She can't be serious, a high sea savage wearing clothes like that, pretending to be as cultivated as an Atlantican? Even if the Atlantic snobs grimace in disgust  at the royal ball because of her (it`s raining mean glances on her), she doesn`t give a flying...or swimming shit about this and enjoys dancing with the king.

this is the copied down version, the water colours look not good, so here is the original, a little bit too big for my scanner.

As always, you have an amazing talent for capturing and laying out action and meaning in a single frame. I used to cartoon but mine were highly... Robotic, as I have no gift for composing imagery like this. It is great to see what someone who does have your ability to play with Elfquest and communicate such joy while doing so. Thank you for sharing this!

Aww, thanx Trollhammer.
But I must confess, that I like to use templates that show me a few details when I'm a little unsure about it. This time I needed a little bit help with the drapery, so I took a picture from the movie "Anastasia". In animated films, things are reduced to the essentials, and in Don Bluth films the reduction is such that nothing is missing. Btw. I was a big fan of "The secret of NIMH" when I learned about it when I was about 8 or 9 and Bluths drawing style influenced me enormous like that of Wendy.

I, too, grew up eith Nimh, had a... Well, they werent called graphic novels back then but a thickish book with Jeremy on the cover that I read to pieces. I think it was one of the few movies I got to see in theater back then (the other I remember was Star Trek the Motion Picture in the drive in. It was doubled with 9 to 5 ut I dont remember more than the song.) Much later I discovered Wizards... Watched that a few dozen times... Might again later today.

Anyway, using references isnt cheating. While I work on Two Edge (on my storyforge thread) i snap a picture of its current state and generate a GIF flipping back and forth between the clay and a reference image. Yes its easier (you should see an earlier version... Wow, it was bad.) Using references is difficult too, as you have to have a catalogue of images in your mind and know A) the image you want as a referecn exists and B) where to find it. Poor Embala, I pick her brain/library far more often than is fair.

Dont discount your talent. Its the produced image that is important, so as long as you arent photocopying someone else's work and claiming it as your own, great worn is work, and you should be happy with your's, it is great. Far better than I could hope to do.

Sorry for the length, and how late it is. My arm finally cooperated tonight and finished it... well, not like how I wanted but its AN end. lol

Written with Embala in mind.

A Joke/Jest/Prank (To honor "April Fool's Day" in the US - not sure if that's a thing outside of the US)
Easter Eggs
Dancing
Rain


"These Trolls, searching, mining...
picking, finding...
Sending their kin off on hunts...

The Elves hunt too,
For flowers blue
and for meat, and for peace...

These halves of me search as well
My anvil rings like a bell..
for knowledge and wonder call to me."

Two Edge mumbled to himself absent-mindedly. The white-cold had broke and the land outside was vibrant with color, but Two-Edge was unmoved by the dance of the new season. for whatever reason, he'd fallen into a slump, and as a result he'd tipped into some of his old ways. In this case, he was lurking, spying on those that had seemed to accept him. The door in his mind could not decide which way it wished to be: open, closed, half way between... his mind begged for it to slam one way or other, but, in a way, when he reflected on just what that door was and which way it should swing, it seemed that the one door could close into one doorway or another, which made it even more frustrating. Should that door shut on one path, the other would be wide open. Which way should be closed, though? Should he choose to close either path? Where did these paths lead anyway?

When Two-Edge felt this way, fell into the traps his mind had set as a result of the mental warfare he'd fought with his mother. These pit-falls had been designed to keep both he and his mother from being able to trust anyone but himself, however, even he could not trust himself now after all that had happened. These others that he'd pitted against each other, had mistreated and abused, were still treating him with cautious kindness. The warmth of their welcome yawned invitingly, warm and sticky, like the honey soaked webs his mother wove to entrap him in his youth... that feeling unsettled him, as he both craved it and feared it.

These... others... how could it be they would not hold his actions against him? He'd done nothing to his mother, and she held everything against him. Perhaps it was a game, to see how far he would allow himself to be pulled in before springing their trap... or perhaps it was a trap he'd set for himself once again... placing just what he wished for just beyond his own reach.

His need to test bubbled up once again. He no longer felt the need to place the others into danger to sate his craving for reassurance, but it had been quite some time since he had played a game... and somehow the thought seemed to cause some inner joy to emerge. He was not battling his mother: there was no reason a game could not be fun for all! But how? What game should he play?

He had tested the trolls against the elves, the elves against the trolls, the elves and trolls against the humans, and so on... but he had not tested himself against himself and the others! A smile started to crack across his face...

***

*Has anyone heard from Two-Edge lately?* Treestump's sending held only the mildest concern. While the old Master=smith kept most of his smithing secrets to himself, there were, on occasion, things he would share, especially when it was bluntly simple and just out of Treestump's grasp. The blade he had been forging lay next to the handle he intended to attach to it, but a method eluded him. He could stick it on with hardened tree sap, but that would not last or hold up to use. it was too thin to pierce and pin the handle on, and also too thin to try to wrap the handle on with leather.

He'd been hoping it would be a simple enough thing that Two-Edge might aid him, but the master-smith was nowhere to be found. A few sendings came back with no positive answers, and, he noted, none of the sendings were from Two-Edge himself. It would not have been alarming or unusual to get some zwoot-brained answer from him, such as "Never seen him" or "I have no idea what he is up to", and these were usually attempts at humor at his own expense, but in his lack of experience with sending, he would try to disguise his mental voice, and the results were usually more hilarious than the joke he was trying to make.

But this time there was nothing but silence from the master-smith. Treestump wasn't sure if he should be more concerned, but was at a dead end anyway, so he went searching through Two-Edge's dens. He looked around his forges and anvils, his sleeping furs, his... what were those things again...? In all his years, Two-Edge had usually been the teacher, but there was one thing that he had learned from the humans: making marks on dried leaves. Treestump did not understand it much, but apparently one could save a thought by making marks on something. He had used limestone to draw lines on metal he wished to grind or shape, and make marks on the anvil to check length, but these were very obviously pictures and lines with a purpose. Two-Edge had a room devoted to sheaves of stacked leaves, leather, bark, and other materials that he had carefully treated, preserved, and marked on. Each piece had hundreds of curved, straight, jagged, and swooping lines in neat rows. Some of them looked vaguely like mountains or birds, but most had no recognizable purpose or meaning. Treestump was sure that, if he knew what the lines meant, he might be able to answer his own question, perhaps have other questions answered he'd never asked.

But the old master would not teach him what the marks meant, or rather, was incomprehensible in his ramblings when he did explain some of it. Treestump suspected the smith did not want him to understand, that perhaps it amused him to watch Treestump fumble with his metal-work. There were the occasions when, just when he thought it was alone, he would be in mid-swing and catch Two-Edge watching him from the corner of the ceiling. It put his hackles up, but Two-Edge did not seem to mean any harm by it.

As he made his way back to his own forge, he wondered if he was going to have to just set aside the knife until after he could find a troll or have Two-Edge help him. When he got to his workbench, the handle was missing, though. Treestump did not think of himself as one who was forgetful or careless, and the handle had been made of such fine wood... It seemed as though it had been taken, but who would have taken such a small scrap of wood?

***

Leetah was also scrambling to try and find the ear-rings she had been wanting to give Shen-Shen. They were no-where to be found! she went through every pot, every sleeping fur, her winter furs, and all the places she felt it could be, but there was no sign of them anywhere. She sat on the floor in her room after tearing everything apart to find them, and suddenly Skywise burst through the curtain that worked as the door to her room. "You haven't seen the key for New Moon have you?"

This only slightly proceeded a wide-ranging commotion of sendings, some panicked, some frustrated, some just noting that they too, were missing something but not that big of deal. The tribe did not keep many possessions, but of the few small things they did keep, everyone seemed to be missing something, and no sign of where it went.

Most of the items that were taken were of little more than sentimental value. Few had necessary, functional value, but few, unlike New-Moon's key, were replaceable. More than that, though, was that each item was taken without setting off the wolves, without anyone noticing, and without a trace, not even a scent trail. it didn't seem possible, but something had gotten into the holt and taken many things from a wide range of areas without notice... if whatever it was that took these things was able to do this, there was no telling what they could do.

When Treestump joined them and verified that he was missing something as well, it seemed that it was someone who knew the tribe well, and was deliberate with it. Only one name came to mind, the one who was not here to defend himself: Two-Edge.

*So what do we do?* asked Strongbow, simply. *The Master-Smith is playing his games again, should we be on our guard?*

Some non-committal murders circulated, a general consensus that "...he must be bored..." and "...he had every ability to harm us if he was going to..." rose to the forefront. No real direction for action was suggested, as he could be as impossible to find as he wished to be.

"Right you are!" boomed Two-Edge's voice from just outside the group. He made no attempt to hide, sitting silently on a wide branch of a tree. "I mean no harm, your trinkets are safe, you won't have to go far."

"Great, more riddles..." Skywise whispered to Strongbow, bowing to stay out of sight. Strongbow grunted.

Smiling with playful defiance, Treestump stood and addressed the Master Smith. "And what is your game this time? Some sort of race, or path-most-difficult? Quit dancing around the point. Waiting may be fun for you, but we Wolfriders aren't known for our... long attention spans."

"Searching for words? Hunting for a reason. Reason may elude me, and my words may twist, but I will straighten this out Hidden for you to find are several small treasures: small, and colorful, containing gold. They have value to all, though you would usually value them differently than those that made them, but now you will value them differently than you would." The words were halting, as though the explanation sounded differently in his head. "You will find these treasures and bring them to me without opening them, as I intend to return each one to where it belongs. Each one you find will return a possession to who it belongs. It would be best if you all searched, but I will see what you do, as that is my game."

The elves stared at each other, trying to see if any of them understood what he meant. Skywise flipped around and threw his words at Two-Edge: "That's all well and good, but these so-called treasures could be anything, knowing you. I'd ask for a clue, but I'd be afraid of being even more clueless... Troll-dung, now you have me doing it."

"It would be fun to tease you some more and see where your thoughts take you, but time is short in this case." The Master-Smith seemed to mentally kick himself for placing a time limit on his own game. "Some are big, and some are small, some are plain and some have spots. Each one is a cell with just one prisoner, but each prisoner can leave when it is ready to." He paused, waiting to see if any of the blank, frustrated gazes showed even a flicker of realization. He finally gave in. "You are no fun. The hunt is on! Watch your feet and move your legs, go out and find some eggs!"

Wolfriders were generally quick when the situation needed them to be. Even a laid back elf like Pike was fast with his namesake when battle or food-gathering required it. Mentally piecing together a puzzle was not their strong suit. Aroree's eyes flared a moment when she realized what he was saying. "I think he means, he's hidden some various kinds of eggs and we need to go hunt for them. Each one is different and represents your missing things. Find your egg and get your missing thing back."

"Your inspiration soars like your talents, floater-flier-glider!" The master-smith's eyes had a quirk of joy that someone finally understood what he was saying. As though something inside his head tapped his shoulder for attention, he glanced up to horizon "....and... if you are quick about it, I can return the eggs to their rightful nests before the coming rain. Not my best idea, now that I look at it, but what's done is done." He jumped out of the tree and took a seat on a rock. "I'll wait here for you to return."

The elves, wondering why Two-Edge thought this would be any fun even for him, slowly meandered away into the surrounding forest to search for eggs. Not to eat, as they might normally, but instead to appease someone else's hunger.