June "Grab bag" stories/poetry/art/etc....

I will eventually get back to my Island elves (and Nightsea's relationship to Wavecatcher--my named character not the canon one).  I just need time in a block to focus, access online and access to my notes all at once.  So far that combo is elusive.  That and the fact that you've also just made a tribe, regardless of if we get stories about 'em, means I'll just take my time to get there.

I do not know on this forum how to link to just one post instead of the whole thread, but in case
my point got missed...this month's contribution to this grab bag thread from me is in my tale of Vytha...
https://fathertreeholt.forumotion.com/t196-vytha-what-if-daughter-of-winnowill-voll.

It is short but there's already so much to read there if you are new that anyone wishing to read
it may find that fact helpful!


--Nightsea

PS: Let me know what you think of the Stonehowl Dollz, folks!  I will take feedback from anyone,
especially Tymber, of course!

Nightsea wrote:

I will eventually get back to my Island elves (and Nightsea's relationship to Wavecatcher--my named character not the canon one).  I just need time in a block to focus, access online and access to my notes all at once.  So far that combo is elusive.  That and the fact that you've also just made a tribe, regardless of if we get stories about 'em, means I'll just take my time to get there.

I demand to see yours get some more life! Demand it, I say!

Nightsea wrote:

I do not know on this forum how to link to just one post instead of the whole thread, but in case
my point got missed...this month's contribution to this grab bag thread from me is in my tale of Vytha...
https://fathertreeholt.forumotion.com/t196-vytha-what-if-daughter-of-winnowill-voll.

It is short but there's already so much to read there if you are new that anyone wishing to read
it may find that fact helpful!


--Nightsea

I know I read some of it (one of the grab bags recently) - but I need to read it start to end!

Nightsea wrote:

PS: Let me know what you think of the Stonehowl Dollz, folks!  I will take feedback from anyone,
especially Tymber, of course!

The problem with feedback from me, is I am super biased to the characters you make dolls for when it's for me - and so utterly honored and flattered - that it's difficult for me not to just love what you're doing! (I saw the newest ones you did - but at work - and will reply with more detail on the proper thread).

Finally! I ended up having to muscle my way through it, and it's not the most inspired of writing, but after a long dry spell it's finally something.

I decided to take a page out of Tymber's playbook and try to continue on with the same characters letting the elements dictate where the story goes, so this involves characters from some of my other stories. I have a thread of my fanfic around here somewhere if anyone's interested in more backstory than I give here.
_______________________

Distraction
A Broken Weapon
A New Home
Confusion
A Thief
schizophrenic

Eyes open...darkness. Cool air, muscles stretching. Stomach aches. Be still! Rustles all around. Scent on the wind. Slowly follow, sounds nearer. There! With young...

Young ones...mother. Never mother! Her way, she said. Never mothers, never more than needed, never in joy. Never joy in killing.

Killing. Hunger. Rustling close by. Scent on the wind. Follow slowly, footsteps silent. Slowly closer. Hands close on warm heart beating, squealing, pulsing against fingers, bones hard underneath. Twist and crack. Silence. Stillness.

Tough skin. Teeth press harder, pushing! -  then not. Gush of blood, overflowing, dribbling down.  Swallow quickly. Scent on the wind. Warm blood...warm skin, soft against his own. His own. One of his own...

Coarse, fur-covered. Jeering, snarling, pushing him away. Blood and howls in the night. His own, but one no more.

Smooth and fair, light in the darkness. Not one of his own, but his own – flesh and blood – drops of blood shimmering in the moonlight. Hair shimmering like starlight. Not one of his own...but one...

One of Her way...never the mothers...mothers...head hurting, ache in the breast...never the mothers...never his own...scent on the wind...child?
_______________________________

It had been good for a long time. Game had been plenty, and Prey-pacer's tribe had been able to stay in the same area for more turns of seasons than any elf could count. But the two-mooned world was not as unchanging as the long-lived elves who inhabited it. Floods and fires scoured the landscape, making what was once lush forest into barren waste. Rivers changed courses. Lakes dried up in one area, new ones formed elsewhere. Migratory paths changed to accommodate the land. What had once been bounty near the elve's home had slowly dwindled until the decision had been made to follow the game to whatever new home it had found.

They moved in small groups, spread out to not over-tax the thin resources, always keeping within sending distance, tethered by that small spark of linked awareness in the back of the mind.

The huntress Twinstar lead her small group at the edge of the tribes awareness, passing in and out of contact as they followed the twists and turns of landscape, watching for the small game that would sustain them in their journey. With her was her son Lastlight and his lovemate Sunflower, he brown and she golden, the two combining like patches of sunlight and shadow dappling the forest floor. Filling out their group was the elder huntress Joygleam.  Not family in blood, she was the mother of Twinstar's lovemate Dusk, killed before Lastlight was born. She served as support and mentor to Twinstar and a second mother to Lastlight.

It was Lastlight who caught first scent, as usual, the casual conversation brought to an abrupt halt by flaring nostrils and his face turned towards the wind. The others knew better than to ask as every muscle froze, only the slight movements of hands tightening on bow and blade as they were slowly made ready hinting at their intentions. The snap of branches, the stamp of small hooves, and the elves silently fanned out, each trying to catch sight of the prey hidden in the bushes. They all heard the shriek as Sunflower’s arrow found its mark, but the crashing din made it clear it was not a fatal shot. Lastlight tore away in the direction of the deer’s noisy flight, the rest following after, pulled by the ruckus as he struggled with the wounded beast, laying in the last merciful cut. They found him, panting over the beast and quickly all knelt down, hands cupping as much of the warm life-blood as they could gather before it poured away into the ground.

Fuller than he had been in days, Lastlight finally fell away from the lessening stream to lie spread out in bliss, only to be brought up again in surprize. “Ouch!”

Twinstar looked at her son with concern. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. Something pricking me…” He reached behind him and pulled up the offending object. About half the length of his forearm and encrusted with dirt, still the moon glinted brightly off the untarnished surfaces. “It’s a knife! A metal knife!”

He brushed away some of the dirt with his shirt, revealing a blunt facet where the tip had broken off. “Too bad it's broken.”

Joygleam rose quickly. “Let me see!”

Lastlight handed the broken weapon over, stunned by the intent look on both Joygleam and his mother’s faces.

“Can it be?” Twinstar whispered.

Slowly, tenderly, Joygleam wiped more of the dirt away, nodding. “It is...this was my parent’s knife. The one I gave to Dusk.”

“Then this…” Twinstar looked around, her eyes misting with tears. “This is where it happened.”

Lastlight and Sunflower could only look on in wonder. The whole tribe knew the story. Twinstar and Dusk’s horrific meeting with one of the long estranged Hunt - the vicious wolf-elves that were the other half of Timmain’s legacy. The encounter had resulted in life for Lastlight, as his mother had found Recognition in the violent stranger, and in death for a gravely injured Dusk - a death given by Twinstar herself as a merciful final gift to her dying lovemate, given with his own metal knife.

Lastlight rose to stand beside his mother, hands resting gently on her shoulders in silent support. “We should rest for the night.”

He body had been shaking with sobs, but now she breathed in deeply and wiped at her eyes. “Yes,” she nodded, “but not here.”

They quickly dressed the deer and were soon moving again, carrying what meat they could, and the knife, with them.
___________________

It wasn’t much later that the storm hit. They had noticed the change in pressure that had told them it was coming and had been wise enough to find a safe shelter, even making time to lay out traps, hoping to catch other beasts that were running from the storm. For days they had holed up, taking refuge from the driving rain, watching through the roots that made up their makeshift den as deer paths became streams and lightning revealed tree tops whipping in the wild wind.

Finally, the storm abated and they had emerged, blinking at the sun's short show between the clouds departure and the growing twilight. Stiff from muscles not used in days, they began walking the trapline, hoping for something to ease thier hunger.

The first trap revealed no luck, still set, undisturbed by the storm. The second trap was not much better. If it had been sprung, it was impossible to tell. Either the storm had destroyed it, or its victim, in its panic, had fought its way out, leaving nothing but a pile of sticks and string to show what had been there. The third trap had done its job, as evidenced by the tufts of fur and drops of blood. But of the unfortunate creature, there was no sign.

"Look at this!" Sunlight knealt by the trap. "The prey is gone, but the trap is undamaged. Whatever was here, something took it!"

Wary, they searched for a familiar mind-touch that would tell them one of thier tribe was nearby. Their minds touched something, faint and strange. Soberly, they moved on.

The sounds told them the last trap had been successful as well, but when they moved into sight they saw not only the sprung trap, but the thief as well.  Looking like nothing more than piles of matted pelts, he started when he saw them. Head down, he began backing away, but not before Lastlight had his knife out and the stranger backed to a tree, stretching his neck away from the flinty point.

He was an elf, but the way he carried himself was more like an animal. Lastlight could see his discomfort at being forced into an upright stance. He whimpered and clawed at the bark behind him looking down, refusing to meet thier eyes. Lastlight's arm was across the stranger's chest. He increased the pressure now, angling the blade so the elf had no choice but to lift his face and look at him with eyes wide with fear. "Who are you?"

Twinstar had come up behind her son, hesitant to come closer but pulled by morbid curiosity. She knew him, knew the pressure of his hands, his body covering hers. Her skin crawled in memory of the pleasure-pain. Revulsion at the first touches, then the quakes that came after, the flush from head to toe, the shuddering of the soul that was Recognition answered. She looked at him, cowering in confusion, and the whispered sensations faded to hollowness. He had no effect on her now. “This is your sire.”

Outlier wrote:

I decided to take a page out of Tymber's playbook and try to continue on with the same characters letting the elements dictate where the story goes, so this involves characters from some of my other stories. I have a thread of my fanfic around here somewhere if anyone's interested in more backstory than I give here.

This is awesome! I love that someone else is doing this! This truly makes me very happy!

Where can I find your previous stories so I get to know your elves before I dive in and read this? And does this mean you will be doing other grab bags (July, August, September) with your tribe? (I hope the answer is yes!)

Good story, Makes me want to read what went on before.

Tymber wrote:

Where can I find your previous stories so I get to know your elves before I dive in and read this?

I don't know if there's a way to link to individual posts, so it's kind of hard to direct to them because they're kind of spread out, but they are here starting about halfway down the page. The main characters are Twinstar and her son Lastlight who are part of Prey-Pacer's tribe.

I wanted to finish what I was writing before reading any other contributions for this month, so I've only finally read these now.

Tymber - I enjoy reading your stories. It's interesting, as a reader, to be placed in the moment in the aftermath of a very traumatic event and to see how the different characters react and what the fallout is. What I really like about this month is that you have taken the same elements and given us not only one, but three different viewpoints of the same event. It will be interesting to see how all these characters move forward. I also like how you use the setting and the weather to reinforce the mental state of the characters.

Trollhammer - Interesting development with Grubfinder. I admit I should go back and read the other stories because I don't quite remember how he has ended up all alone like this, but maybe that's the point - to have us experience his confusion of suddenly being alone? I wonder about this strange creature. Is it all in his head? A dream caused by too much sunlight? I almost expected him to wake up in his bed at the end and have it all be a dream.

I love the way you talk about Grubfinder gathering so much information through his feet. It seems weird at first, but then makes sense as you describe how they have to find their way through the dark. I've heard they think elephants communicate by low frequencies that they sense through their feet.

Two-Edge sure got a lot of love this month! The poems and accompanying art are wonderful. Through everything he seems like he always resonates as a tragic hero rather than a villian.

Outlier wrote:

It had been good for a long time. Game had been plenty, and Prey-pacer's tribe had been able to stay in the same area for more turns of seasons than any elf could count. But the two-mooned world was not as unchanging as the long-lived elves who inhabited it. Floods and fires scoured the landscape, making what was once lush forest into barren waste. Rivers changed courses. Lakes dried up in one area, new ones formed elsewhere. Migratory paths changed to accommodate the land. What had once been bounty near the elve's home had slowly dwindled until the decision had been made to follow the game to whatever new home it had found.

You and Trollhammer both have an amazing sense of being able to be very descriptive and clearly paint a nice visual. The above paragraph is pretty freaking amazing. It nicely shows that the world is ever changing. Something we all know; but you told it in a way that just painted a nice, time lapse visual in my head. I absolutely loved this!

Outlier wrote:

The huntress Twinstar lead her small group at the edge of the tribes awareness, passing in and out of contact as they followed the twists and turns of landscape, watching for the small game that would sustain them in their journey. With her was her son Lastlight and his lovemate Sunflower, he brown and she golden, the two combining like patches of sunlight and shadow dappling the forest floor. Filling out their group was the elder huntress Joygleam.  Not family in blood, she was the mother of Twinstar's lovemate Dusk, killed before Lastlight was born. She served as support and mentor to Twinstar and a second mother to Lastlight.

I know Prey-Pracer is one of the chiefs; but I didn't read a lot of the books after OG, SaBM, & KotBW - so I am not sure if these above characters are part of cannon - or something you made! (Not that it matters at all, other than my own curiosity!)

Outlier wrote:

It was Lastlight who caught first scent, as usual, the casual conversation brought to an abrupt halt by flaring nostrils and his face turned towards the wind.

Another nicely written line!

Outlier wrote:

They all heard the shriek as Sunflower’s arrow found its mark, but the crashing din made it clear it was not a fatal shot. Lastlight tore away in the direction of the deer’s noisy flight, the rest following after, pulled by the ruckus as he struggled with the wounded beast, laying in the last merciful cut. They found him, panting over the beast and quickly all knelt down, hands cupping as much of the warm life-blood as they could gather before it poured away into the ground.

A very vivid set of images.

Outlier wrote:

“I don’t know. Something pricking me…” He reached behind him and pulled up the offending object. About half the length of his forearm and encrusted with dirt, still the moon glinted brightly off the untarnished surfaces. “It’s a knife! A metal knife!”

Were the trolls already developing metal weapons?
(Again, not that it matters, it's fan fiction! We can do what we want, damn it!)

Outlier wrote:

“Can it be?” Twinstar whispered.
Slowly, tenderly, Joygleam wiped more of the dirt away, nodding. “It is...this was my parent’s knife. The one I gave to Dusk.”
“Then this…” Twinstar looked around, her eyes misting with tears. “This is where it happened.”

Oh! We have some suspense and mystery!
(Or was this in one of your previous stories? Maybe I should keep reading!)

Outlier wrote:

Lastlight and Sunflower could only look on in wonder. The whole tribe knew the story. Twinstar and Dusk’s horrific meeting with one of the long estranged Hunt - the vicious wolf-elves that were the other half of Timmain’s legacy. The encounter had resulted in life for Lastlight, as his mother had found Recognition in the violent stranger, and in death for a gravely injured Dusk - a death given by Twinstar herself as a merciful final gift to her dying lovemate, given with his own metal knife.

OH! What an awesome concept! The other half - the more wolf than elves side of the tribe! WOW!

Outlier wrote:

"Look at this!" Sunlight knealt by the trap. "The prey is gone, but the trap is undamaged. Whatever was here, something took it!"

More mystery!

Outlier wrote:

He was an elf, but the way he carried himself was more like an animal. Lastlight could see his discomfort at being forced into an upright stance. He whimpered and clawed at the bark behind him looking down, refusing to meet thier eyes. Lastlight's arm was across the stranger's chest. He increased the pressure now, angling the blade so the elf had no choice but to lift his face and look at him with eyes wide with fear. "Who are you?"

Twinstar had come up behind her son, hesitant to come closer but pulled by morbid curiosity. She knew him, knew the pressure of his hands, his body covering hers. Her skin crawled in memory of the pleasure-pain. Revulsion at the first touches, then the quakes that came after, the flush from head to toe, the shuddering of the soul that was Recognition answered. She looked at him, cowering in confusion, and the whispered sensations faded to hollowness. He had no effect on her now. “This is your sire.”

Oh snap!

This is awesome! You need to collect the rest of these stories in one thread for easy access reading! I need to have more of this!

Outlier wrote:

Tymber - I enjoy reading your stories. It's interesting, as a reader, to be placed in the moment in the aftermath of a very traumatic event and to see how the different characters react and what the fallout is. What I really like about this month is that you have taken the same elements and given us not only one, but three different viewpoints of the same event. It will be interesting to see how all these characters move forward. I also like how you use the setting and the weather to reinforce the mental state of the characters.

Thank you for the kind words! (Did I promise to pay you money for saying good things? I pay so many people to say good things about my writing, I've lost track!)

Kidding aside, thank you very much! That was very much a set up "segment" - because it'd been a few years since I had written Stonehowl (after leaving the ElfQuest forums). So I just did a "wipe" to clean the slate of elves I had accumulated, and have a "fresh" start with fewer elves. The stories, I think, get better after this.

I've so fallen out of the grab-bags, being so much behind ... and that after I was thrilled to see you contribution, Outlier!

It almost immidiately made me think you're telling us about the wild one again ... and the following confirms my suspicioun as it retells a story I remember. Retelling it from the pov of a creature who's grasp on the world and memory is so very different from ours or the Elves.
I'm still fascinated by the intro - in fact the wild one was much more present in myx own memories than the names of your elfin staff. Took me some time to identify them. ^^

I like how you describe the changes in landscape and environment, how the longliving elves are more aware of it than humans may be ... and how you include the nomadic life of the elves without simply stating the fact.

The hunting sceen was described so lively, even told in pictures ... capturing, scaring - almost off-putting in its uncovered bloody truth and so satisfyingly fitting for a tribe depending on hunt and scarse prey. I've enjoyed the focus on Lastlight who I knew was different, more primal in his instincts as his tribemates.

The broken knife forges a bridge to the initial story  ... evoking pictures of a familiar tale for those who followed Twinstar's fate from the beginning ... an intriguing mystery for new readers.
I love Lastlight's tender, caring reaction when the elves (and the reader) realize where they are.

You let me feel the hardships of those elves the way you picture the heavy rain storm, showing that it is so common for them that they even know how to make use of it.

And finally we get an insight in Twinstar's mind, recalling the most frightening, most overwhelming and most puzzling moments in her life. 'Though I basically knew the final resolution it was a fascinationg read til the end. Is it the end?


I guess it doesn't matter too much how it will be solved ... this way or the other - Twinstar is free. From recognition, from the wild on and from the memories that were haunting her.
*hinthint* Would love to read another sequal nevertheless!

@Outlier Puckernuts! I wantet to "call" you ...

You should know that I always love to read your stories, jeb. Terribly late at times, much too silent mostly. I love your style and the pictures you show my, drawn by pencil or drawn with words.

Wait a sec--- is Outlier Jeb? How didn't miss that?

Ooops ...

You're kidding. It was a secret?

It can't have been a secret. I'm just obtuse.

Probably not a secret but never stated, as far as I remember.

I knew pretty much from the beginning ... recognizing stories and artwork. Outlier's EQ.com screen name is so familiar to me, still present in mind - much closer to my thoughts than her chosen name here.

@Tymber: if I understand correctly, Two Edge was born before the Wolfriders settled in the forest above the Trolls, and his father was depicted as forging metal blades. If it was his own invention, he would have had to develope it after he started his quest for a rock shaper, because I cant see any Troll King let that valuable skill go to waste on a near suicidal mission unless it was a common skill at the time or unknown completely. (There's always the chance that Smelt was an Einstein among the Trolls, discovered metal forging, then later went on to work other wonders, got bored, and was somehow deemed highly likely to succeed in collecting a rock shaper and allowed to go,with or without passing on his metal forging skills.)

Either way, Two-Edge then took up the mantle of Teacher to the Trolls and either taught them his father's skills and elaborated with his own developments, or built on the skill that was already present.

Also of note: both Frozen Mountain and Forest Trolls had a roughly equal level of metal forging skill as depicted throughout the story. They were separated somewhere around the time before the Wolfridere settled in the Forest. While it is true that Two-Edge may have kept the two groups on par and equal as part of his game, its just as likely they had metal forging before the split.

Nevertheless, this all happened before Prey-Pacer's time, and metal was being forged, however the Wolfriders didnt know about them (supposedly, after all, much was forgotten by Bearclaw's time and the Trolls may have been part of what was lost). This would make any metal tools "found" items and highly rare. At the same time, we dont usually see Troll steel break too easily, and it may have been earlier, lower grade metal. Further, blacksmithing requires a hearth, fire, and can generate not just smoke (which Trolls apparently have an aversion to), but toxic fumes in the form of heavy metals and chemicals. It is conceivable that an early Troll blacksmith might us his forge in a cave at or near ground level, and discarded or abandoned tools (blades) might have been easier to find at an earlier time than they were in Bearclaw's time. (Also of note, metal weapons were not unknown by Bearclaw's time when he caught Old Maggoty, but were rare and coveted.)

Embala wrote:

I've so fallen out of the grab-bags, being so much behind ...

And it's noticed! Your insightful comments are dearly missed! But you must take of you, and yourself, and real life, first! The stories will be here waiting, whenever time permits. <3

Embala wrote:

Probably not a secret but never stated, as far as I remember.

Outlier mentioned being Jeb when first joining here I think it was the first post? I remember reading it or I would have never have known. I remember squealing with joy when reading it

No secrets, no intent to confuse or deceive - and no reason to be embarrassed! Just took the opportunity of the new forum to replace a hastily picked screen name with something else I felt a little more descriptive of who I am.

I'm glad you liked the story , Embala. When I was writing the hunting scene, I was wondering if it would be a little too...gritty? But to me that is one of the more interesting parts of Elfquest - the idea of this advanced culture having to adapt to survival mode. That's why I prefer to set my stories with the earlier chiefs when it was still being worked out.

And to answer one of your earlier questions Tymber, I took the name of Joygleam from one of the anthology stories, but it's not really based on any of those stories.

I do hope to continue this on with July's Grab-bag, as soon as I can find the time.