Setting the Scene-

[Saeltari]

Since this is the workshop area I thought I would see how everybody's imagination is doing .

The challenge:

Set the scene. No rules, other than what decorum dictates. However, the scene must be in, or include mention of a forest. It must also incorperate the use of magic and a fantastical creature.
Have fun, hopefully more than just me participates in this little exercise . If I am in the wrong place and doing the wrong thing just let me know.
I will be back in a bit to post my scene.
Keep them short, so people can read them easily. One paragraph is good, two is acceptable.
Have fun and good luck.

 

[Saeltari]

Here is mine. Remember this is only practice to keep the words flowing and our imagination awake. Exercise. Exercise. Exercise

Under the moonlight they danced to the wind. We watched as they spun in intricate designs following a pattern dictated by the breath of the breeze as he tickled the pines. We had stopped at the edge of the small meadow not wanting to disrupt the dance. We felt a need for the purity we saw as they moved to a music older than they. It helped us to cleanse the images of fear and pain that slipped from our recent past to infest our dreams, like the shadow now darkening the moonlight throughout the forest. I raised my eyes and then slowly raised my hand in a gesture of control; to rip the oncoming clouds from the face of the moon. I could feel the darkness around screaming to me to do more, why stop at the clouds when I could pluck the moon? My companions looked at me with sympathy as they felt it too. I looked in their eyes as we all ignored the desire, we needed this image of beauty, this hint of things older than time that had endured and would always endure. The understanding was there, and our gazes turned back to watch the movements of the Fae as they interpreted a music only they could hear. This dance would buffer us, help us to fight the nightmares we chased and those that consumed us. We watched the dance in the moonlight as the words of the song continued play gently with our hair and blow softly over us.

 

[Culhwch]

Hackneyed and cliched, but I had fun... Stole the first line from Saeltari's first post, so cheers for that. Here 'tis.
______________________

He was in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing, and he knew it.

A wind rustled the autumn leaves high above, whispering songs no human could hear, but nothing stirred nearer to the ground. Nothing but the creature. It moved brazenly beneath the midnight canopy, all spines and talons and teeth and sleek black fur. The young boy shuddered at the sight. He'd heard tales of the beast, but never truly believed them. Now he wished he'd never crept out of bed, searching for the adventure he had so longed for. He wanted to run, wanted to scream. He wanted to be anywhere but where he was. He took a step back, tentative. Heard the twig snap. The thing's monstrous head swung up, its lifeless eyes freezing him. Almost without thought, the boy's hand crept up to the strap about his neck, found his grandfather's charm hanging there. It was cool and hard in his hand, and it lent him strength. 'Pa, I'll see you soon,' he whispered. He closed his eyes and waited for the end. And waited. It didn't come. When he opened his eyes, he didn't know where he was.

 

[polymath]

I came to the appointed place and waited whilst the stars span above me. Constellations shifted in a stately dance, smoothly stirring to the music of the spheres. It grew hot. I baked under molten magma. It grew cold. A mile of ice sought to crush my corpus. The turn of ages eliminated these extremes. What cared I? In the eras where the climate altered less rapidly I slowly (quickly?) rose again and I noted the differences, correlated the minutes and seconds of the elliptical waltz. Soon it would be time. What was soon? As long again as I had waited, and more. Cycle after cycle brought slow amelioration until green flutterings flecked the permafrost. Small hopeful things grew stately-large and planet-wide. And after time piled upon time, the signs were…ah! True! This was it. The stars were right and here was primordial forest. I began the sequence to call to the old and cruel ones – the ones who arrive through strange angles – but to we who endure, their hyperspatial modes hold no mysteries and we can summon them when we will. I summoned them and one by one, the stars went out.

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

In case you were wondering, machine AI (fantastical creature?) meets Cthulhu mythos (magic?). That's a fun exercise. Good idea, Saeltari.

 

[Prefx]

The dirt-cut path was fallen with autumn leaves. Veronica could feel a steady wind awaken behind her as she walked on. At night the woods took on a life unfamiliar to the girl. She had been raised away from the forest and under the careful watch of her mother and the sun. Each branch assumed by a shadow was just another reason for her to feel uncomftorable. The distant crunch of fallen wood sent her breath heavy. Mark was leading her faster now, his hand tightly set around hers. From ahead she saw the Great Tree, standing frail and naked under the moon's red glare. It was a discouraging thing, leafless, cracked and fed by termites. When they arrived at its roots Mark told her to feel the trunk and know its power. Ever the obedient friend, Veronica placed her hand on a spot of wood that looked more weathered than alive. At first all she felt was silly. What powers can a tree have? But even before the thought had left her head, the Great Tree was wrapping a bare limb around her body and rocking back and forth despite the earth. Mark laughed as she jumped back. He had seen the power of this Tree before, had learned to love the night.

 

[Quokka]

This looks a bit long but there's not actually alot to it.


“So remind me, why exactly am I Laying on the floor picturing forests and streams and fluffy white clouds?”

“I never said anything about fluffy white clouds.”

“Well no but you did tell me to include a talking animal and the clouds were his idea.”

“So what did you pick any way.”

“Pick? You told me I could smell the wildflowers, I never thought to actually stop and collect them.”

Noticing the man’s raised eyebrows, Daniel stretched himself out before sitting up. “Ok fairs fair… it was a crab.”

That probably wasn’t what Andrew had expected, again with the eyebrows, this time accompanied by a small laugh “Trees and flowers and all things woodland and you picked a crab?”

“I figured the world had it’s share of talking rabbits.”

He could read Andrew easily as he leaned forward on his chair ‘engage the client’ ‘build rapport’

“So what did this crab say to you?”

“Nice place. Could do with some clouds.”

Daniel wondered as the man leaned back, whether Andrew would say he was ‘disengaging’ or if he could still admit to being frustrated.

“ Ok so meditation may not work for you.” That tone, it seemed Andrew was too well taught a psych to acknowledge something as honest as frustration.

“Considering every occurrence has been during high stress and fear,” Daniel stood up, indicating an end to the session. “maybe next time we could try treating the insomnia with an espresso drinking binge?”

“Well the more we stress, the more we retreat from complex thinking and towards immediate needs. The deeper we go the less rational we get…” Andrew paused as the client hesitated by the door, his head nodding slightly. “…and is that when it happens?”

“Maybe, it’s hard to remember exactly.”

“Well difficulty with memory recollection is another symptom of highly stressful periods.”

“You could be onto something there Doc.”





Daniel had barely pulled out of the campus parking lot when he glimpsed the familiar blue shell. “Took you long enough to scuttle back here.”

“What’d you expect, where were we Sherwood! And I like to think of it as lateral strutting.”

“That’s cool, after all it’s important to have a healthy self image, just as long as your aware that the other six billion sentient life forms on earth call it scuttling.”

Daniel couldn’t help but voice a passing thought “ you know, our friendship would seem a lot more magical if I was hearing your voice inside my head, rather then from the backseat.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that one. If your hearing my voice inside your head, chances are one of us just ate the other.”

“Ok so from the back…. No? front seat it is then.”

“Speaking of knowing better, you really shouldn’t be playing games with this one.”

“What can I say” replied Daniel as he pulled onto the highway, hit the shuffle button and unleashed Guns n Roses’ Night Train “I’m old and I’m oh so bored.”

 

[Marky Lazer]

It had been dark for an hour or so and both the dense forest and the thick clouds hid the moonlight. The lack of light made noises louder. The scream of an owl, the squeaking of trees in the wind, the howl of a wolf. The crushing of dry leaves under feet. The sound of a raindrop as loud as an arcane explosion. Within the gloom it seemed the forest itself was coming alive. Leaves whispering, branches weeping, barks screaming. Dihrsi walked through the almost impenetrable forest, trusting her other senses now there wasn’t any use of sight. The smell of the wet forest, the howling of the wind, the taste of the rain. Her hand on wood. Wood on her hand. Skin on skin. “At last,” Dihrsi thought, “the Land of the Dryads.”

It was her last thought ever.

 

[chrispenycate]

A universe of black and white, no colour, no grey. Actually, the black was the dark green of fir branches but the eye insisted that, by contrast to the blinding snow, they couldn't get any darker. The snow that ate any infrequent sound, and absorbed all odors, leaving none of the distance senses useful for the family huddled in the sheltering darkness under one of the trees.

Suddenly, this world turned upside down. Sound arrived in the beat of enormous wings, the "floomph" of snow sliding off branches, from the air displaced by those wings. And colour and scent came together, with the warm breath issuing from the enormous, golden head that thrust itself between the branches.

 

[Paradox 99]

So now I'm trapped - my boots held tightly by the sinewy vines, given life by the ice crystals thrown onto the wet soil by my enemy. He was long gone by now, rushing out of the forest, laughing probably. I wanted to stamp my foot in frustration but the vines tightened their grip, pulling me down deeper into the thick mud. How could I have been so foolish? A trap, and such an obvious one! The sparkling gems burrowing into the mud should have been clue enough, but no, I had to wade in like a troll in a library, alerting every foul and evil forest dweller to my presence.
And alert them I did! For stamping out from behind a particularly large oak, splashing moist earth as it thundered toward me, was the worst of all the beasts - the Grey Hargol. Looking like an oversized hairless ape with hate-filled beady eyes, it lunged at me. I had just enough time to draw my sword before my waist was submerged...

 

[Sliverblade]

This is my first posting so be gentle!

Winter had come early. Soft, etheral snow flakes drifted and swirled around Shandor's heavily cloaked form. He squated within the winter landscape, alone. The forest, usually buzzing with life, now lay silent. It made his spirit feel drained. The winter was harsh this far north. The grim Leoth trees towered up into a snow capped canope. Trickles of powder slipped through to dust Shandor's well concealed form. He shivered. There was no warmth here. Grey clouds hung swollen casting a grey dullness over the land. Shandor remembered how from Kraken's Pass the snow caked landscape had appeared spotless with no sign of the ancient wood. The land had seemed virgin, beautiful. The forest all but invisible. A crack brought Shandor back to his current situation. He had trudged through the Pass two days ago, clambering through clusters of crumbling rock and shielding his face from the slicing, icy blast that howled there. A crack brought Shandor back to his current situation. His experienced eyes caught the outline of a huge, heavily white-furred Skak skulking between the trees. The beast was still hunting him. Shandor held his breath so as not to bring attention to his position. There was silence, but for the Skak's uneven footsteps and the rasp of steel.

 

[Sliverblade]

This is my first posting so be gentle!

Winter had come early. Soft, etheral snow flakes drifted and swirled around Shandor's heavily cloaked form. He squated within the winter landscape, alone. The forest, usually buzzing with life, now lay silent. It made his spirit feel drained. The winter was harsh this far north. The grim Leoth trees towered up into a snow capped canope. Trickles of powder slipped through to dust Shandor's well concealed form. He shivered. There was no warmth here. Grey clouds hung swollen casting a grey dullness over the land. Shandor remembered how from Kraken's Pass the snow caked landscape had appeared spotless with no sign of the ancient wood. The land had seemed virgin, beautiful. The forest all but invisible. A crack brought Shandor back to his current situation. He had trudged through the Pass two days ago, clambering through clusters of crumbling rock and shielding his face from the slicing, icy blast that howled there. A crack brought Shandor back to his current situation. His experienced eyes caught the outline of a huge, heavily white-furred Skak skulking between the trees. The beast was still hunting him. Shandor held his breath so as not to bring attention to his position. There was silence, but for the Skak's uneven footsteps and the rasp of steel.

 

[mosaix]

He leant over the crenellated wall of the stone tower and looked down on the flat forest canopy that stretched to the horizon on all sides.

If he had hoped for any change since the last time he looked or the time before that, or as far back as he could remember, then he was disappointed. There was still no way up and no way down.

[FONT=&quot]He saw nothing but trees and, of course, the other identical tower some 50 yards away complete with its enclosed chequer board courtyard just like his own. On this, as always, the unicorn walked and walked following some intricate pattern known only to itself, keeping forever to the black flags and never even giving him so much as a glance. [/FONT]

 

[carrie221]

They both awoke to find themselves in a forest but not a forest like they had known before but a forest of old untouched by modern life. The trees stood up all around them like tall soldiers stretch out their arms to the heavens and each other almost as if they were marching off somewhere to war. Julia slowly looked around and realized that the birds she was seeing were not actually birds but little fairies if that was even possible. They both glanced at each other at the exact same moment and each seemed to be saying with their eyes this is not a dream, the wizard that they had seen must have been real and they had really been sent back to some place in time not connected to their own. They looked at each other’s clothing and then down at themselves shocked to find themselves in radically different clothing then they had been wearing this morning. They both stood their in shock in this ancient forest wondering what was to come and why had they been sent here.

 

[Saltheart]

At long last they reached it: the realm of Ayana's Sorrow, where ages long past she ended her life for Belgund her lover and departed to the gray heavens; and from her within grave, for so great was the virtue of her sacrificed blood, white flowers rose and a patch of life bloomed and broke Malger's curse, and it spread to and fro, and from it grew a great forest of magnimous beauty.

The realm stood in front of them, below at the base of the hill, its trees spreading far and wide as their eyes could see, westward brushing along the foot of the mountain range, and eastward crossing the river and disappearing behind the horizon. The trees were of the the same kindred of the Ayafiran long ago: emerald were their leaves, and their wood shimmered like blue diamonds in the sun, and the dew that sapped down their barks glimmered gold like molten jewels in the sunset; like their ancestors of old they seemed to shine with the glory of the gods. And among them were flowers and bushes of all colors as fresh as spring, in despite of winter, in despite of the end of the Old Age and all its lore and magnificence.

Glin's eyes watered as he marveled its beauty. And Naruin his epah reared up and sang at his side, swishing its mane as it danced in delight. Then it ran fro and played in joy with the epahs of the forest, for for long it had not met another of its kindred; and they sung and danced through the night, after leading the two companions to their encampment, and after dinner Isha said to Glin: "I am glad. But we must leave before dawn." For enamoured by their splendor, Glin wanted to stay forever among the last seedlings of the Old Age...

 

[Themistocles]

The darkness waned as dawn approached. The encampment of Orks had spent the night howling at the new moon and enjoing in their drunken festivities. Varindill sat poised on a thick branch overlooking the scene, his bowstring out and a quiver of bows at the ready. This Ork band had slewn a passing caravan of humans only two days earlies, and Varindill was not about to let them get away. When the rising sun cast its first rays on the tired Orks, they started towards the safety of the cave. Varindill, wisended from years of battle waited patiently, for he knew this land better than the Orks. Before the orks made it to the cave Varindill let out a high pitched whistle and let fly arrow after arrow. Several of the Orks were felled before the main body of the group made it to the safety of the darkened cave. Or so they thought. For no sooner had they entered, the orks fled in panick from the roars within the cave, to be cut down from Varindill's deadly aim. In the sunlight the orks had no chance, for they could not spot Varindill on his high perch, and they could not see well enough to find a place to hide. When Varindill slew the last remaining Ork Baghraund emerged from the cave, his fur coated in blood. He smiled upwards at Varindill and headed towards the river to clean up. Once again, their battle plans had worked flawlessly, ridding the surface world of the unkindly beasts.

 

[Sketti]

Vendra held her hair with her left hand to stop it whipping her face. It was a poor day to be cleaning the top of the north tower, gray and windy and cold. The tower had been neglected for half a century, half as long as it had been unused. Now, with the Royal Court having decided to move the capital to Castle Antarah the space would be needed and she had been put in charge of tidying up the upper levels. The windows had broken at some point and the dust was piled high against the walls. Birds had made their home on the rafters under the roof and here and there were pieces of course glass strewn about the floor poking into her bare feet. The gusts of wind coming in through the window continually blasted her backwards and showered her with detritus. She got to the window, hoping that the remainders of the shutters could still be closed. Little of them remained. The sky announced that the storm would only get worse. Even the trees of the thick forest surrounding the castle itself were bent under the force of the wind. A glint among the tree tops surprised her, it twinkled continuously very much like a star. No one could possibly be out with this weather and even so, any lamp would quickly have been extinguished had it been left for some unknown reason on top of a tree which really made no sense. She bent over the edge as if she might see better that way. It kept twinkling but then started to move as though it were a little boat. She bent further out the window, not caring about the long drop to the ground.
"Watch yourself child!" someone grabbed her by the strings of her apron and pulled her back in. It was an old, pock-marked woman who's ugliness was contrasted by the richness of her dress, "Will o' the Wisp magic does not slow down the fall of their Desired."

 

[dwndrgn]

As I sit, contemplating my woes, a tiny arnet wanders up my leg. The light filtered through the leaves above paints golden dapples over the darkness of my skin and on the sheen of the arnet skin. It stops and looks my way. As I smile at it's tiny little face, it winks and scampers over my knee toward the roots of the tree I chose for my solitude. Following its path with my eyes I see it come to a stop on the knotty bend of a root. It looks back towards me and winks again before taking off to the other side of the tree trunk. Curiosity cuts through my gloomy air and I follow. Searching for the arnet among the tufts of grass and roots, I can hear the nearby brook, happily chuckling to itself. There, I've found the arnet, curled up under a big root, up against a tuft of spar grass, watching me. Smiling down over the arnet, I realize my melancholy has fled.

"Well, and that's a much nicer thing to see. I'm glad to have given you back your cheer. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

My mouth wide open like a fool, her voice cut into my startlement, "Are you one of those unbelievers who think that there's no magic in this world?"

As I pretty much collapse in astonishment, her giggle makes me smile again. My gloom well and truly gone.

 

[Faceless Woman]

The ocean sparkled jewel-like in the summer sun*, lapping gently at the honey-gold sands. The joyous calls of the dancing umbines contributed to the sense of sanctuary* that enfolded the cove, as did the multi-coloured wings of the tiny flitting fairies*. The air smelled of salt and sand*, but lacked the distingtive smell of dead fish and rotting seaweed that usually clung to the coast*, and the beach was almost unnaturally clean. Heaven.



*Yes, I have a problem. Hello, my name is Faceless Woman and I am an alliterationohollic.
Five times in one paragraph. I need help.