Tales from Xnorpius
A lone traveller toiled into the deepening gloom. Eyes scanning nearby mountains for an overhang or cave and somewhere to shelter his yaks from the driving snow. The weather was getting worse and maps were useless. Snow fell heavy from the sky and everywhere a stillness but for wolves earie cries of yahoo, yahooo from dense forests.
The track, if that’s what you could call it, climbed steeply then dropped into a sheltered dell. He decided to make camp surrounded by tall white pine spears. Loosening thongs on his packs, eased them off the animals and stacked them in a ring. Not the best hotel he thought, at least they provide shelter and the animals warmth.
Thumbing through the ancient volume, page after yellow page, he found the quotes which led him to this inhospitable land. Before long thoughts of childhood tales and google eyed monsters waiting for unsuspecting travellers crossed his mind. He shuddered.
Turning back to the book for more directions he noted a quote from Mark Twain written on an otherwise blank page. “There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth”. What did he mean? Was this book a directory of sublime thought or Pandora’s box. Who were the April fools now, Martha or Stuart?
The animals were unsettled and rousing himself went to look round. Was that music or another trick of the mind? From the gloom two white pages in strange uniforms appeared, followed by Lords of the Forest who formed a ring round the dell.
Good health stranger, our people search this land for travellers before the snow wizard appears. You are welcome to stay in our Hall until the storm abates, then our pages will guide you. Again there were those startling trumpets and a call of “...to the Hall boys, to the Hall.
A lone traveller toiled into the deepening gloom. Eyes scanning nearby mountains for an overhang or cave and somewhere to shelter his yaks from the driving snow. The weather was getting worse and maps were useless. Snow fell heavy from the sky and everywhere a stillness but for wolves earie cries of yahoo, yahooo from dense forests.
The track, if that’s what you could call it, climbed steeply then dropped into a sheltered dell. He decided to make camp surrounded by tall white pine spears. Loosening thongs on his packs, eased them off the animals and stacked them in a ring. Not the best hotel he thought, at least they provide shelter and the animals warmth.
Thumbing through the ancient volume, page after yellow page, he found the quotes which led him to this inhospitable land. Before long thoughts of childhood tales and google eyed monsters waiting for unsuspecting travellers crossed his mind. He shuddered.
Turning back to the book for more directions he noted a quote from Mark Twain written on an otherwise blank page. “There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth”. What did he mean? Was this book a directory of sublime thought or Pandora’s box. Who were the April fools now, Martha or Stuart?
The animals were unsettled and rousing himself went to look round. Was that music or another trick of the mind? From the gloom two white pages in strange uniforms appeared, followed by Lords of the Forest who formed a ring round the dell.
Good health stranger, our people search this land for travellers before the snow wizard appears. You are welcome to stay in our Hall until the storm abates, then our pages will guide you. Again there were those startling trumpets and a call of “...to the Hall boys, to the Hall.
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