Campsite Portal

[Sweetcherrie]

With a notebook in her hands Sweetcherrie walked through the portal that led to the campsite terrain. Troy was following her, but his flames were not enough to light the darkness, and she was glad that she had asked Mynx and Inbi to make a small magical device. The floating torch that they had arranged for her was following her and the phoenix around, and lit other torches on the way. After a while the campsite was bathing in flickering shadows, and torchlight. The fires created a cosy atmosphere, perfect for telling some good stories.

 

It would be the first time that the pennites were offered the possibility to stay overnight at the Carnival and she hoped that it would work. For her own tent she had already found a good pitch, and it was set up nice and sturdy. She didn’t expect any storms, but then again you never knew with the amount of mages they were expecting from the Pen.

 

Walking along she arrived at the fireplace Inbi had created. In the middle there was a large circle of stones and in a larger circle around it there were logs of wood for people to sit on. Troy settles himself inside the ring of fire and the wood logs started burning. It would be the perfect spot for the pennites to tell their stories on the long summer evenings, and she was already looking forward to it. Stories around the fire always felt very romantic to her, and she could still remember them from her own childhood. With a neat V Sweetcherrie ticked off the box in front of “getting the fireplace ready”, and called the phoenix to go back to the meeting room. Troy looked up, but stubbornly stayed where he was. Sweetcherrie sighed, she could understand that the bird liked it in the fireplace, and would think of something at a later time to get him out. She walked back through the portal to the meeting room to tell the others that the campsite was ready to receive its first guests.

 

OOC:

 

This campsite will be a free flow RP. You can write down your character experiences at the carnival, and every now and then we’ll add some extra adventures to spice it up.

 

Since the campsite is dark at all times, and only lit by the campfire and some torches it will be the perfect place to do some story telling. The stories will all have to be told IC, and need to be at least 500 words. There will be two sessions, as described below.

 

Romantic Stories (no Scarlett Pen, rrooomaantic)

These stories can be posted in between the 18th of July and the 31st of July

 

Creepy Crawlers

These stories can be posted in between the 1st of August and the 14th of August

 

You can earn 15 geld with each story, up to 2 in each area.

 

Edit: 5 geld for participation

Edited July 12, 2005 by Sweetcherrie

[Sweetcherrie]

OOC: Post written by Venefyxatu and Sweetcherrie *hugs* Always a pleasure to write with you

 

The bag of marshmallows she had brought flew through the air followed by a big bag of bread dough. Sweetcherrie hoped that people would be hungry; she had enough food to supply at least twenty people with food. She looked at the pile of food for a moment, and decided that she had all she needed. With her arms full of food she walked out of her tent towards the campfire. Once there she looked round for a place to put it, and noticed that Troy was still sitting in the middle of the campfire. Sweetcherrie put the food on one of the logs, and walked over to the campfire.

 

“Will you please get out of there?”

 

The phoenix looked up, but didn’t move. Images of comfort, warmth and stubbornness flooded her brain in such a speed that it almost knocked her off her feet.

 

“Oh honey, I know you like the fire, but people will probably want to roast their bread and marshmallows above that fire, what do you think they will say when they find you there?”

 

Troy flared sadly and sent her some new images, Sweetcherrie sighed, “Well yes, I know that they could roast their bread on your flames, but I’m just not so sure if that’s what they want.”

 

At that moment she heard a voice behind her.

 

"Hi there, lady! Careful with that fire and the bird, would you?"

 

A small cloaked shape hopped up to her, staying at a safe distance from the fire. It kept facing the fire as it asked, "Err .. why is it in the fire? I mean ... that can't be healthy, can it?"

 

Sweetcherrie turned around and looked at the person who had spoken. "It's a phoenix, he sorta likes it there," looking at Troy she added, "a bit too much even." She turned back to the cloaked figure, "I don't believe we've met?"

 

The tiny hands sticking out of the cloak's sleeves were put where the hips of the figure would probably be as it leaned backwards a little to look up at her.

 

"No, I don't think we have. I'm Tom."

 

As it bounced a few circles around Sweetcherrie, it spoke in an excited voice. "And what's your name? And the bird's name? And does he like it there because he's a phoenix or is he a phoenix because he likes it there?"

 

Before Sweetcherrie could say more than, "I'm Sweetcherrie, and this is Troy", however, the figure had already hopped over towards the food and started inspecting it, always making sure not to come too close to the fire.

 

Sweetcherrie’s head started buzzing with the energy of the little man. He was already hard to follow; small as he was, but with his constant movement it was even harder. She saw him rummaging through the food, and was just about to ask if he wanted to join her for some marshmallows when she saw movement in the corner of her eyes. Troy had sensed her weary thoughts about the bouncing figure at her feet, and had suddenly decided to protect her. With a loud shriek he stormed towards Tom. Tom ran away from the burning bird, yelling,

 

"Nooo! Don't come near me! I HATE cooked and roasted and baked and burnt and smoked and ANY KIND OF HEATED CAULIFLOWER!!"

 

After running in weird patterns for some time, chased by Troy, Tom started making detours to run in between Sweetcherrie's legs in the hopes of making the Evil Burning Bird crash into them.

With a particularly big circle, Tom had put enough distance between him and Troy to hop up and down in front of Sweetcherrie a few times, gaining some speed and altitude, and jumped up on her shirt. He didn't stop climbing until he was sitting on her shoulder.

 

Troy stood at Sweetcherrie’s feet, still loudly shrieking. She tried desperately to calm both of them down, but with one of them on her shoulder, shouting in her ear, and the other flooding her brain with fire images this wasn’t too easy. She scooped the little man of her shoulder.

 

“Can you please be quiet?! I’ll tell him that everything is fine.”

 

Taken slightly aback, Tom shut up for a whole minute - a personal record for him. Sweetcherrie thought she felt something strange under his cloak, though - whatever Tom was, he didn't have a humanlike body. While she was talking to Troy, Tom took the opportunity to have a good look around from his new vantage point.

 

In the sudden silence Sweetcherrie focused and explained to Troy that the little man was no threat to her, and that he didn’t have to protect her from him. The phoenix looked at the little man in her hands, and finally he backed down, and before Sweetcherrie could stop the bird, he ran back to the fire and nestled himself cosily in the middle of it. Sweetcherrie carefully put Tom down, and silently wondered what exactly he was, but was too polite to ask him. Instead she just suggested that they’d start with the marshmallows.

 

"Sure, I'll put 'em in neat piles - you like piramids? I do! Love 'em in fact! they're so good for piling things into!"

 

As Tom was hopping around excitedly and starting to fling marshmallows on the plates in more or less neat heaps, he kept talking, never noticing that his cloak sometimes blew open a little to reveal what could only be described as "green leaves".

 

"By the way, you don't have any vegetables here, do you?"

 

For once, Tom did shut up to actually hear the answer to his question...

 

“Vegetables?”

 

With a confused look at her face Sweetcherrie looked at the little bouncy guy.

 

“Erm…I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

 

"Y'know! Veggies! Garlic, leeks, onions, yam, sweet potatoes, potatoes, artichokes, cucumbers, squashes, zucchinis, pumpkins, butter beans, green beans, broad beans, aduki beans, kidney beans, runner beans, beansprouts, peas, rutabagas, beets, radishes, ginger, carrots, parsnips, turnips, cabbages, corn cobs, bok choiys, celery, artichokes, okra, asparaguses, cauliflowers, especially cauliflowers, lettuce, spinach, red peppers, green peppers, , broccoli, egg plants, mushrooms, tomatoes or Brussels sprouts, to name but a few?"

 

After saying all that in one breath, Tom gasped for air, giving Sweetcherrie another chance to say something.

 

For a moment Sweetcherrie just stood there with her mouth wide open, looking at the bouncy man, but then she decided that she was staring, and that she wasn’t being very polite.

 

“Erm…well…I don’t have any at the moment, but if you would like some I could always get some for you. It’s actually not such a bad idea, grilled vegetables are healthy and they taste good.”

 

For exactly 2,4 seconds Tom stared back in absolute horror at what he'd just heard. Then he reached under his cloak and brought out as what could only be described as an impressive array of weapons. How he managed to hold them with a mere two hands is a complete mystery - nobody should be able to hold a chaingun, a rocketlauncher and two handguns in one hand, and a set of grenades, a shotgun, three submachine guns and a sniper rifle in the other. The first thing Sweetcherrie noticed as all the weapons were pointed at her, however, was that all of them were fitted with one of those red, plastic caps they put on children's toys.

 

Then he began speaking, "WHAT? MURDERER! You'd ... you'd .. you'd GRILL those poor vegetables? You ... you ... you ... RAAHH! This is impossible! As if veggies aren't oppressed enough yet, no, you have to grill us over a campfire as well? Healthy? Here's one vegetable that's bad for your health!"

 

The little guy waved the weapons in front of her, and Sweetcherrie tried hard not to laugh…but failed, and after two minutes the tears were rolling down her cheeks.

 

“Are you serious? You have to be kidding, man this is the best joke I’ve heard in a looong, looong time.”

 

She was laughing so hard, that even Troy was sending her merry images from his place in the fire, and she literally had to sit down if she didn’t want to fall over.

 

Under his cloak, Tom's eyes went really big and watery when he saw Sweetcherrie laughing like that. His weapons were put away as quickly as he'd taken them, and he plopped down into the sand. Then he started crying with a kind of "waaahh"-sound that up until now had seemed possible only in comic books.

 

Seeing this, Sweetcherrie started feeling kind of sorry for him and moved closer. As she patted him on the head and made soothing noises, Tom's bawling gradually lessened, until he was just sniffling.

 

“I never meant to be mean, I’m sorry…”

 

She sighed, and looked around to see what she would do to cheer him up again.

 

OOC: The sign up is only meant for the stories, and the reason for this is that I wanted to fit them into this RP. Otherwise, please feel free to join in

 

Oh, and please can someone help me to cheer this little dude up again?

[Tanuchan]

Written in collaboration with Venefyxatu

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Thomas stepped out of the shadows, having just arrived at the Campsite. He looked around, marveled at the organization and the cozy feeling that came from the campfire and the surrounding area. He inhaled deeply, letting the smells of night and... marshmallows?... feel his mind, and smiled happily.

 

"Good evening, gentle lady..."

 

He bowed to Sweetcherrie, who was still patting Tom's head and looking around in a somewhat frenzied way. She blinked, and hastily stood up to greet the new arrival.

 

"Good evening... I don't believe we've met...?"

 

He bowed again with a flourish and a captivating smile, "Thomas of Taigel, Minstrel, at your service, my lady. And I think we've met somewhere else, but at the time I was somewhat busy with mundane issues and didn't have the time to make your acquaintance - a fact which I regret deeply."

 

Sweetcherrie blinked again, while Thomas grimaced inwardly remembering his tenure as kitchen/tavern helper during Reverie's Slam Poetry competition. Then, he turned to the smal figure still whimpering and sniffling at their feet.

 

"Hello, little friend... what is the trouble?"

 

Tom looked up, and stared directly into Thomas' hazel eyes. He gulped, and with a trembling voice he summarized the previous events.

 

"... they're killers, I tell you... "

 

Thomas sat besides the still sniffling Tom, unslinging his lute and fingering it softly - which caught Tom's immediate attention. The small cloaked figure turned towards him some more, with big shining eyes visible in the shadows of his hood.

 

So, little friend

vegetables are fun -

how many games

can you play with one?

 

Rolll the tomatoes -

so red they go!

Broccolli give way

for the teams to play.

 

Parsley tickles

the skin of tomatoes,

faster they roll

towards the goal.

 

A lettuce sprouts

to bar the path -

mushrooms come

to ladder away...

 

And tomatoes roll

towards the goal,

aiming with heart

to win the part.

 

Cheering cauliflowers

- full of energy -

open their arms

- full of flowers -

to hug tomatoes

for being such fun!

 

 

Tom started chuckling, bouncing up and down a little to the soft rhythm that Thomas imprinted to the half-sung words, and Sweetcherrie smiled at both of them, grateful for the distraction the Minstrel had provided. The thought of asking Thomas to sing for them later on crossed her mind, but lingered there just for a moment - she would never know how fortunate that was, for the only songs Thomas could present without blundering were exactly that kind of playful, non-sensical improvisation that he had used to cheer Tom up.

 

Tom sat quietly for a few more moments after the song had ended, still enjoying the notes that were lingering in his mind. Then, completely happy again, he suddenly jumped up and started bouncing in circles around Thomas, exclaiming what a great song that had been, and how he was sure that someone who could sing such wonderful songs couldn't be a killer at all, and that he'd absolutely really really loved that song, and that he hoped that Sweetcherrie had also loved it, she had, hadn't she?

 

Never once stopping for answers, he bounced over to Sweetcherrie, to ask her whether she'd enjoyed the song and to thank her for trying to cheer him up, even though Thomas had done a better job, but thanks anyway, and that he hoped that she'd been only joking when she said that about the roasted vegetables, and and and and !

[Sweetcherrie]

The sun slowly went down, Dana lowers her shield, and looks at the time.

 

She’d been meditating in the afternoon sun, and had almost forgotten that she’d promised Sweetcherrie to show up for the storytelling at the campfire. For the past week she had been thinking of what story she would tell, and it had been hard to decide upon one of them. She had so many different stories in her life, and she had told so little of them yet. Eventually she had decided to tell the story of Roman, her teacher. It marked her history and it would tell them something more about herself. Dana gets up and with a steady tread she walks towards the campsite portal, and disappears to the other side.

 

The fire was crackles merrily and already a circle of people is sitting on the logs around it. Dana nods a short hello to Sweetcherrie and takes place next to some people she has never seen before. Someone offers her a piece of dough and shows her how she can mould it around a stick to bake it above the fire. For a while she sits there silently listening to the people talking when Sweetcherrie comes up to her and asks if she wants to start with the storytelling. Dana nods, and Sweetcherrie asks the attention for her. The murmuring voices silence and all faces turn to listen to her. She turns the bread around to make sure that it wouldn’t burn, and starts telling the story with her hushed voice.

 

“I have decided to tell you a part of my history, and the romance I had with my teacher…back when I was still innocent and in my own world.”

 

Her voice trails of a bit at these last words, and for a moment it looks as if she’s lost in her thoughts, but then she resumes.

 

“One day my father came home and told me he had found me a husband. When he told me who it was, I looked at my parents, and told them with a venomous tone that I refused to marry the guy they had chosen for me. I knew that my face must have looked hard, and I loved my parents, but couldn’t believe they would make me marry to this old freak.

 

I won’t bore you with the details, but that night I left the only home I had ever known. I loved my parents, but not even for them would I marry someone I not only didn’t love, but even despised. He was truly an old geek.”

 

Some people start laughing at this expression, and Dana quietly waits till the laughter dies away. She looks at the faces that are staring back at her, turns the bread around, and looks back in the flames.

 

“When the sun came up that morning I found a group of sheepherders, and blended in with them. All I had taken were some clothes, my cape, and the knifes my father had given me for my last birthday.”

 

Dana sighs.

 

“I looked back only once, and felt a sting of sorrow when I realised it would be the last time that I looked upon my town in a long while; maybe even forever, but I hardened my feelings, and decided that if I would come back here, I wouldn’t be the same person any longer. No longer would I be the sullen, rich girl, daughter of the head of the guards, and promised to be married to an old goat. I would never again be the daughter of my mother, and never again would I believe in innocence. The sun was rising above the horizon, and for me it was the first sunrise of my new life.

 

By late afternoon we arrived at a well, and the sheepherders decided that we would spend the night here. There was enough grass for the animals to feed on for the night, and the well would provide water. I found a soft place to sleep under a tree and, using my cape as a blanket, I curled up to try and get some sleep. But the ground was hard and cold, and my bed had always been soft and warm, so getting to sleep wasn’t easy. I twisted and turned, the rocks poking in my side, and I was sure that I would wake up with bruises all over my body.”

 

She laughs hoarsely.

 

“Since then I have slept in a lot of places that were far worse, but I didn’t realise how easy my life had been till then, and I even felt sorry for myself. Eventually I must have drifted into some restless dreams, because the next thing I remember was dreaming about a whispering voice.

 

‘Roman, she’s a babe, can we keep her?’ upon hearing this I opened my eyes with a shock. Realisation settled that the tickling on my back came from real ants, and wasn’t the prince of my dreams stroking my back. With a tiny scream I jumped up and started slapping the ants of my body, but they were crawling inside my clothes and because of the wild movements had now started biting. I pulled of my cape, ridded myself from the rest of my clothes, and slapped away the ants that crawled over my legs and stomach. Suddenly I heard the roaring of laughter all around me, and looked up to see who it was. Some ten odd men were staring at me, and most of them were having a look on their faces that was a mix between amusement and sexual greed. I tried to cover my body with my arms, and felt my head going red. Probably the last time ever that I blushed, but back then it felt like it had to be a nightmare and I was still asleep. Finally, one of the men stepped over and with a smug grin he put my cape around me.

 

‘You can be my favourite new toy,’ were his exact words, and grinningly he stepped in front of me to face the other men, and started giving out his orders. He told his men to hurry, and get some of the sheep. Then he joked again that he would take care of the bonus, and with that he had meant me. The other men started laughing again and some of them shouted that being the boss had its advantages, but they followed his orders. As soon as the men had left to do what he had told them he turned around to face me again. His grin had disappeared and he looked at me with a frown. I noticed that I almost had to put my head in her neck to look him in the eyes, and this was rare for me. With my five foot seven I was tall for a woman, and back home I normally had to look down to look people in the eyes.

 

I showed him what I hoped was a defiant pose, and told him that I wouldn’t be his toy, and demanded him to tell me what was going on. Roman blinked and a naughty smile appeared on his face, his dark eyes tinkled as they always did, he told me that he didn’t think I was in a position to give orders.”

 

As she turns her bread roll around again, Dana chuckles.

 

“I was so arrogant and ignorant back then. But back to my story. I noticed that he was dangerously handsome when he smiled like that, and as he pointed out my nakedness to me, I felt the brave I’d felt seconds before disappear. He told me to get dressed and even turned around to show that he wouldn’t look. He picked up my clothes, and after he had shook them free of the last ants, he gave them back to me. With his back towards me now, I quickly got dressed, but held one eye on the back of this stranger. When I had all my clothes back on I picked my bag from the ground, checked if the daggers were still in there, and quickly hid it under my cape. Not sure what I could do next, and not seeing any way to escape the men that were raiding the camp, I cleared my throat and asked him where they would take me. At that time my voice came out as if a little mouse was peeping, and I was angry with myself that I didn’t show more strength.

 

Roman turned around and stared at me for a moment. His eyes darted over my long, dark hair and rested upon my face. People had always told me that I had expressive blue eyes, but I’d always thought they were dull. He told me that I would stay with them for a while, and that I could be their washing woman. Never before had I done household work, and I told him that I would probably ruin their clothes, but he only told me that I’d learn soon enough.

 

The man he had called Joachim earlier came back and told him that they were ready to go. He kept looking at me as if he was undressing me with his eyes. I shivered and immediately disliked this bleak-eyed man. Roman stepped in between the two of us and told the guy that I was under his protection. The other man snickered but didn’t openly contradict, and he walked away to join the other men, who were waiting to leave.

 

My protector asked me if I could ride a horse, and I told him I could. When I was a child my father had taught me how to ride on ponies already, and even though it wasn’t very ladylike I had always had a horse since then. He asked me my name, and I started telling him that I was Dana daughter of Molden, but I realised that I was no longer someone’s daughter, and told him that just Dana would do.”

 

The bread was now brown, and Dana puts a piece in her mouth and chews on it thoughtfully before continuing.

 

“Together we walked back to the other men, who were already waiting, and after Roman had jumped on the back of his horse he held out an arm to help me behind him in the saddle. The ride was long, and slowly I fell asleep with my head against his back.

 

When Roman carried me of the horse I woke up, blinked my eyes against the light, and discovered that we were in the middle of a nomadic camp. Dawn had arrived, and the sky showed colours that are only seen when night and day meet. White canvas tents were gathered around a central fireplace, and sheep and lambs were running amidst woman and children. Roman had halted his horse in front of one of the bigger tents, and was now holding open the flap that was serving as a door, and made a sarcastic bow. (His humour was always a little sarcastic, but at the same time he had a certain gallantry.)

 

When I entered the first thing I noticed was that the tent was a lot bigger than I had expected. The floor was covered with a straw mat, and in a corner laid blankets that were probably used as bedding. A wide variety of what I supposed were weapons, was neatly arranged at the other side. Altogether it had a homely feel, and I was surprised by the obvious absence of a woman in this tent.

 

He told me to stay in the tent, and left. However, I have always been stubborn, and when my stomach rumbled I left the tent and followed my nose. It guided me to a cauldron full of stew, and a woman that was stirring it. She told me her name was Marian and that Roman had already said that she could expect me. She also told me that I must be special, because it had been a long time since she had seen the twinkle in his eyes. She offered me some stew, and when I had finished eating she guided me to the river for a bath. There she left me. Later I found out that she was the wife of one of Roman’s best friends, and I became very good friends with her.

 

I washed my bowl in the river and then stripped free of my clothes to take a bath in the river. The beauty of that camp was one that could compete with the Pen keep’s beauty, and until today I suspect that they had some sort of magic to protect it, but I never found out what it was.”

 

With her hands Dana starts describing what the surroundings in the camp looked like.

 

“A small waterfall was coming down from one of the cliffs, and I knew that I had never seen something so beautiful before. The banks of the river, in contrast to the surroundings, were green, and were richly covered by plants. When I stepped into the water it flowed around me, and embraced me like a mother would her baby. I waded to the waterfall and let the falling water clean my hair and massage my tensed shoulders. The night I had half spent lying on a rock floor, and half on the back of a horse, was clearing away, as the water clenched my body. All my muscles relaxed and when I had washed myself I floated around in the water a bit, enjoying its refreshing touch.

 

You can imagine that I was rather shocked when I suddenly heard a voice saying that I had a good body for the arts, when I had thought I was alone. I swallowed a big gulp of water, as I tried to cover my body, and see who it was that had said this at the same time. I dived under, and upon emerging I looked straight into the dark-brown eyes of the man that had so generously offered to share his tent with me. I asked him what on earth he was doing here, and he grinned and only said that it was nothing he hadn’t seen before.”

 

Dana laughs at this memory, and continues with a smile.

 

“I had to agree with him, and ignoring my own nakedness I asked him what he had meant with the arts. He told me that he had meant the art of fighting magical as well as physical. Now, I had never even thought that I would be suitable to fight, so you can imagine my surprise. Also I knew that there was a law that forbid magic since the last war, so I was a bit scared of it.

 

I’m sure that those of you that are mages can all remember their first times they touched magic, and I will never forget the first time he showed me the natural mana flows. He took my hand and told me to close my eyes. Although I had never been with a man before, and perhaps I should have felt fear, but by then I had already fallen for his charm, and did what he asked me. He sensed that I was scared and assured me that mana was like a sword; it was the hand that controlled it that made it good or bad, not the sword itself. It made sense, and I broadened my mind for what he could show me, and at that moment I entered the flow with him.

 

I felt a tingling sensation going down my spine, and behind my closed eyelids I saw flashes of colours, each colour dancing with its own rhythm. Romans voice telling me that I should open my eyes came from very far away, but when I did I found myself standing in the middle of those dancing colours. Our bodies seemed to attract the coloured stars that were kissing our skin. A joyful feeling filled me up, and I held out my free hand to look at it. Bright little sparks were flowing around it, and as I moved my hand the sparks moved with it, leaving a bright stripe of light that slowly faded afterwards. I focused on his face; his head had a halo of purple stars around it. He told me that it had always been there, and that he had only showed me a way to see it. Then he kissed me. We made love for the first time that afternoon, and many times after. He became my teacher, and eventually even my student in magic, but most of all he was my lover. Never have I loved a man since Roman, at least not the way I loved him. He trained me well, and I started going on raids with the group. I could tell you many stories, stories about how he taught me magic, stories about how he taught me to love, and stories about the many raids that I went on with the group, but here I have to tell you the story of his death.”

 

Dana sighs sadly. Silence rules the campsite for a moment, and it is clear that all are wondering what has happened to this Roman, but nobody spoke. Dana swallows, says that the story isn’t over yet, and continues, her voice a bit hoarser than it normally already was.

 

“We had left the camp to go to the nearest town. It was just the two of us, and those were always the trips I enjoyed most. We had made some good deals, and had managed to trade the wool from the sheep for a good number of articles the camp needed. On our way back we had stopped close to the well he had found me, and had made love until deep in the night before we had gone to sleep. Maybe this was why we were less observant than normally, or maybe we had just become to arrogant because of the strike of good luck we’d had lately, but in the dawn we were attacked by a group of soldiers from the king.

 

They were with at least ten men against us two, and even while we had magic we weren’t strong enough to fight of ten well-trained soldiers, and soon we were tied up with our backs towards each other. The soldiers were eating the food that was meant for our tribe, and I could feel how angry this made Roman. I hushed him, and told him that he should keep his peace, but he removed the roped and attacked the nearest soldier. The ten men jumped on him, and before I could even throw the slightest spell, a knife was sticking out of his side, and he was bleeding heavily.

 

We fought back to back, but it was no use. He took another stab in his chest, and I felt him sinking to the ground behind me. All I could do was draw up a temporal shield to protect us (I hardly knew how to do them back then, but somehow I managed) and hold him in my arms. The mana flows were still circling him, but the light was already becoming dim, and the twinkle in his eyes was fading. I held him close to me, and gave him all the energy I could possibly give him, but it was not enough. He was slipping away from me, and there was nothing I could do against it. His last words were a prayer for me, a prayer that I would live to learn and revenge him.”

 

Here her voice falters, as she thinks back of the love she shared with Roman, but Dana continues, aware that all the faces are still aimed at her, and that the pennites around the fire are listening.

 

“When he closed his eyes for the last time, I could no longer hold up my shields, and one of the soldiers broke through. I tried to fight them off, but one of them stuck a knife through my throat.”

 

Dana holds up her head, and they can all see the scar under her chin.

 

“They left me for dead, and I would have been eaten by the vultures if it had not been for Marian and her husband who had become worried, and found me, dying. They took me back to the camp, and nursed me back to life. Physically I healed almost entirely, only my voice is still a reminder of that day, but emotionally there is a black hole inside of me. I have sworn to find the men who killed Roman, and who took part of my voice with him.”

 

Dana inhales deeply, and her eyes get a naughty twinkle in them.

 

“For many years I’ve been spiteful, and looking for these men, but then one night Sweetcherrie here opened a portal and dragged me from my world into this one.”

 

At these words Dana grins at Sweetcherrie, and Sweetcherrie clearly has no idea where she should look. She chuckles apologetically, but Dana waves it away.

 

“I think I should be thankful that I ended up here, I can learn and heal here. But I will never forget.”

 

With this she finishes her story, puts the last piece of bread in her mouth, and waits for the next person to tell his or her story.

[Sweetcherrie]

There were still a number of people sitting around the fire, and Sweetcherrie was toying with her drink. She hardly ever drunk alcohol, but tonight she had decided to drink a few glasses of wine. She felt slightly tipsy, but that only helped her to get in the right mood. The romantic stories had been very nice. She sighed, she had only few romantic experiences in her life, but there was one story that she could maybe tell.

 

She cleared her throat.

 

“Maybe I could tell something…”

 

The people around the fire went silent. Sweetcherrie had mainly listened to the other stories, but now people turned to listen to her.

 

“Well, it’s a while ago, but it happened when I was about fourteen…”

 

and she started telling…

 

“Oh come on…you should come with us.”

 

Brandon had been trying to talk me into this for a while already, but I really wasn’t sure if I should go. It would be different if Jason was going as well, but Jason wasn’t allowed to go either.

 

My uncle and aunt were staying on a campsite, and they had invited me, as their niece, to stay with them for a while. The original plan had been that I only stayed for three days, but then I met Jason. Now it had been almost a week, and I kept prolonging my stay, hoping that he would notice me. Jason was the most perfect guy I’d ever seen; not only was he cute, but he was also very nice. Unfortunately he also seemed not at all interested in me. Instead Brandon had taken an interest in me, and had tried all the childish jokes in the book to get my attention.

 

The event he was talking about was a puzzle hunt. The campsite’s activity team organized it, and everybody was talking about it. My aunt and uncle had forbidden me to go, but I wasn’t feeling too sad about it because Jason wasn’t allowed to go either. I shook my head again.

 

“I told you already, I’m not allowed.”

 

“Then sneak out, you never seemed too bothered by what is and isn’t allowed before.”

 

It was true. Almost the whole week I’d been sneaking out to meet up with them in the evenings. Brandon and Jason were both two years older than her, and they were always allowed to stay up later than me. But I had decided that the evenings were my best opportunity to hook up with Jason, if only I knew how to seduce a guy.

 

“We’ll see. I have to go now, see you later.”

 

Brandon stayed where he was, sulking, while I walked back into the direction of the caravan. I had just passed the toilet blocks when I heard my name. Turning around, I saw it had been Jason, and he was now trying to catch up with me. My heart missed a couple of beats, as always when I saw him, and I tried to look utterly calm.

 

“Hey..”

 

We stood there silently for a moment; apparently neither knew what to say.

 

“I was wondering if you were going to that puzzle thing tonight?”

 

He’d said it so fast that I was hardly able to make out the words.

 

“I thought you weren’t going?”

 

“Well, I wasn’t, but if you are, I will.”

 

For a moment I thought that my heart would stop beating, but it picked back up again. When I spoke my voice was hoarse.

 

“I will if you will…”

 

“Great then I see you tonight at our usual place?”

 

I nodded. He turned around to walk back to his own tent, but changed his mind, turned around, and gave me a kiss on my cheek. I was stumped, and before I could say something he was gone already. I stared after him for a moment. He had kissed me. My steps were a thousand times lighter than they had been five minutes before.

 

It was already ten when they finished diner, and shortly after everybody went to bed, but I didn’t go to sleep. I lay silently waiting until I heard my uncle snore, and snuck out the tent. Luckily they had allowed me to set up my own tent next to their caravan, and this way I could silently get away during the nights.

 

Brandon and Jason were already waiting at the back of the toilet blocks. There was no light burning here, and the shades made it easier to go unseen. Together we walked towards the starting point of the puzzle hunt, and waited there for the instructions. We were just in time, and were the last group to leave. Two more girls, and a guy were put in our group, and with the six of us we were to find the first person with a hint, This person would then give us the next hint, and so on.

 

We entered the forest, and one of the girls immediately started meeping that she was scared. The guy put an arm around her shoulder, and assured her that there was nothing to be scared off. The other girl snickered, and joked that we had three guys with us that would protect us if something would happen. She walked closer to Jason, and I felt green with jealousy. I wanted to walk next to him, and now she was walking there. Brandon joined me, and I hated him at that moment. He tried to grab my hand, but I shook it lose, and walked in front of the group. I would show them that I wasn’t scared.

 

It wasn’t going too bad, and we’d already found four hints when Jason came walking next to me. He sighed.

 

“I finally managed to free my arm from her, she kept clinging on to it, but I gave her to Brandon now.”

 

And sure enough when I turned around, Brandon was having his arm around the girl. A tiny sting of shattered ego went through me. It was weird, I really didn’t like him, but now he had shifted his attention from one moment to another to someone else. I decided that it wasn’t worth thinking about. Jason was here and he was walking next to me. We walked close to each other, and in the dark he took my hand, and squeezed it lightly. Butterflies were flying wildly around in my stomach, and I squeezed back. We looked at each other, and knew that we’d have to get away from the group somehow.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

He whispered, and he pulled me into a bush. We had already been walking at the back of the group, and when they disappeared nobody noticed at first. We ran to get away from them before they would notice, but he didn’t let go of my hand for even the shortest moment of time. When we stopped running we found ourselves in front of an old look-out. It was used to count the wild and look at birds, but now it was in the middle of the night, and it was silent.

 

We climbed the few steps, and sat down on the floor. Jason pulled me in his arms, and we kissed for almost half an hour, or at least until I was out of breathe. Then I crawled closer against him, and he kept his arms warmly around me.

 

“I’ve been wanting to do that all week already, but I didn’t know how.”

 

Moonlight fell on his face, and I felt more in love than I had ever been before. He was amazing, and the night was amazing. We talked for a while and eventually we came to the subject of ghosts and spirits. He said that he had once before evoked a spirit, and that it had been rather funny. The subject always gave me the chills, but I was warm in his arms, and felt invincible there, so I asked him if we could do it again. He nodded.

 

“Sure we can, we’d need something reflecting though…”

 

He felt around in his pockets, and pulled out a mirror. By then I knew that he’d been planning to get me here, but only felt more in love with him for it, and my ego was pleasantly stroked as well. He only grinned and kissed me again. Half an hour (and again breathless) we returned to the subject of evoking spirits. Jason took the mirror, and lit the candle he had also brought. He placed the candle behind us, and held the mirror in front of us. With his arms around me I was almost falling asleep by then, which was no wonder because it was already around three in the morning. He told me to look in the mirror, and started mumbling words.

 

“Please Bloody Mary, come to speak to us in the mirror.”

 

For a moment nothing happened, but then a face appeared in the mirror. It was the face of a woman Her hair was black, her lips were black, and even her eyes were black as the night, but her skin was whiter than snow. I stared at the mirror and didn’t date move. Suddenly I heard a voice. It sounded as if it was a little girl, and she was screaming ‘mommy, mommy!!’ I turned around to look at Jason’s face, and saw that he had heard the voice as well, but hadn’t expected to hear a voice. His arms gripped closer around me, but the voices did not stop.

 

“Marja, where are you?!”

 

This was more the voice of what must be the mother, and she sounded scared, very scared. A dog started barking wildly, and the screaming of the child became louder.

 

“Mommy! Mommy! Heeeelp!”

 

For a moment we heard nothing, but then we heard a heart-tearing scream.

 

“Noooooooo!”

 

The scream chilled me to the bone, even though Jason’s arms were still around me. I knew he had heard the same, because he took the mirror and smashed it to the floor, begging the spirits to leave us. The dog barked once again, but it sounded more distant now. Then it was silent.”

 

Here Sweetcherrie stops talking, and leaves the silence do its work upon her audience. When people started to move restlessly she resumed.

 

“We sat there, huddled together, for at least another hour, before we dared to move. It had started dawning already, and a ray of sun fell on the shattered pieces of the mirror. Blood was dripping from the mirror, and we didn’t know how fast we had to run to get the hell out of there.

 

We left the mirror behind, and hurried back into civilization. In the lights of the campsite all seemed a lot less scary, and when I looked at Jason I knew that he too doubted if what had just happened was real. I stayed another two weeks at that campsite, and even for almost two months afterwards Jason was my boyfriend, until we both found someone closer by.

 

A couple of years later I went back to that area, and did some research. It turned out that a young girl had once dies close to the old lookout post. She had stepped into a swampy place, and was sucked in. Her mother and her had been walking the dog, and the mother had witnessed how the swamp had swallowed her little girl.

 

After this I’ve never been back there again.”

 

In the silence that followed Sweetcherrie filled her glass again, and waited for the next speaker to take his or her turn.

 

OOC: A bit early to switch to horror stories, if anybody still wants to post a romantic story feel free to do so. But since I will be very busy tomorrow and the coming week, I felt it better to post this now, and start the creepy stories.

Edited July 30, 2005 by Sweetcherrie

[Sweetcherrie]

A dark figure approaches the campfire, and silently takes place. People look and some start whispering, but the figure gives no sign of noticing them. The hood was drawn far down, and it was impossible to make out who was under this hood. A sleeve moves up and from underneath a gloved hand appears. The fingers make a small gesture, and a couple of marshmallows fling themselves on a stick. The stick floats towards the fire and slowly starts turning above it. Then a voice, a whisper barely audible, comes from under the hood.

 

“I’ll tell you a story.”

 

The stick keeps turning above the flames, and the only sound heard is the crackling of the fire. Some people shiver, but nobody speaks. With a soft voice the hooded figure starts speaking.

 

“The town was silent. Only the sound of the wind, rustling through the leaves could be heard. He loved walking around on Sundays. Everybody was in church, but not him. He was walking through the older part of town. The trees formed a green arch above his head, and every now and then a ray of sunlight managed to wrestle itself a way through them and threw bright spots on the street. There were only farms here; of the really big kind that still had the cows inside the same building as the living part was.

 

It was peaceful and quiet, and it felt good to walk around, and give his mind the necessary rest. He’d been working for three weeks straight, even during the weekends. One of his big-shot client’s daughters had had a mental break down, and had needed his support. Psychiatry wasn’t always fun, but this had been an interesting case. The kid was only sixteen, but was sure that she’d seen the devil. Even worse she knew for sure that she was being followed by the devil, and that Satan was waiting for her to give up his soul. He’d assured her that if she’d lay off the dope for a while, that Lucifer would show far less interest in him.”

 

The speaker chuckles.

 

“As if Lucifer would show interest in someone like her.”

 

The hood slides a bit backwards, but the hands reappear and pull it back in place.

 

“Eventually the kid had believed him, or at least had said that she believed him, and she’d become calmer and calmer as therapy progressed. The sessions had been intensive, but he felt good for achieving what he had achieved. Yesterday had been the last session. The girl had embraced him, thanked him, and had said goodbye with tears in her eyes. He was certain that she’d be able to make it on her own now.

 

Nearing his house he saw my shadow shooting off, but since church had gone out a couple of minutes ago he assumed it was some neighbourhood kid that was playing outside. The weather at least was good enough, and although there weren’t many kids in his neighbourhood, the ones that were there always played tricks on him. They thought he was eccentric, in reality he just liked your privacy (I also like privacy, but that has different reasons), and since his clients all came to him, he’d never needed to show himself too much in town. This had caused the people from the village to gossip about him, but he didn’t care. Each and every one of his customers was rich enough to buy the village he lived in, and he was arrogant enough to think that he was immortal…boy was he wrong, but I’m going to fast now.

 

When he entered the house, I was waiting, just like I had waited for the girl. I wasn’t very strong back then, not strong enough to take on two people at the same time, but once the kid had been on his own…let’s just say that her legs were the best part.

 

Our psychiatrist strolled through the house as if he owned the world, not knowing what to do with his time now he had so much of it to himself, and I waited for the right moment. I was patient, always have been and always will be, I have too much of it you see…just not enough entertainment…

 

Finally he settled on watching TV; some nature documentary with elephants, boring, but I waited. He was too watchful still at the moment, and I needed him to be off guard. The girl had taken enough of my energy to leave me weak, but it had been worth it. Shame she hadn’t screamed, I always like it when they scream, but it seemed she had accepted her fate.”

 

A silence follows the words, but then the voice resumes.

 

“He started dozing off, and I knew that there would be no better time to move. I summoned a rope, and it softly tied him to the chair; not too tied cause it would wake him up, and I wanted him to be properly tied before that happened. I gagged him, I like them screaming, but not while I’m still preparing my entertainment. When he felt the cloth slip into his mouth he opened his eyes, and spread them wide with fear, but he couldn’t move. He started wrestling the ropes, but to my joy this only made it worse for him, and I saw red stripes appear on his wrists. I kept my hood on, because I knew that he would probably pass out if I showed my face, somehow most people’s brains short-circuit when they see my face….I still wonder why, but that’s besides the point now. He soon realised that it was no use, and only his eyes kept screaming to let him go, but I just got my equipment ready.

 

I laid out my scalpels, from small to big, and went looking in the kitchen what interesting devices he had. His kitchen had obviously been expensive; it had a marble top, and the handles were made of silver with gold decorations. Apparently our little psychiatrist liked showing off his money. In one of the drawers I found a couple of candles, and grabbed them together. I also found matches, a roll of kitchen paper and a butler tray. I took it all back to the living room, and placed my tools neatly on the butler tray. I looked around to see what else could be fun, and saw a fire poke in the hearth. Concentrating I flicked my hand, and a fire started burning. I placed my seal on it and put the poke in the fire, and left it for the moment; it would take a while before it was ready to use, and besides there were other things to have fun with first.

 

His eyes followed me around, and showed hope. Hope that someone would come and help him, hope that he would be saved, hope that it was only a bad prank, and hope that he wouldn’t have to die today.”

 

The stick above the fire stops turning, and the marshmallows slide off, and disappear under the hood. New marshmallows slide themselves on the stick.

 

“Not bad these, a bit too sweet maybe, but not bad at all.”

 

Sweetcherrie moves to offer the hooded figure a drink, but before she can open her mouth the voice stops her.

 

“I’ll finish my story first, but thank you.”

 

As she settles back down again, the stick starts turning again, and the voice continues.

 

“I sat in front of him, and took up my finest scalpel. He would die, but not before I’d had some fun. I held the scalpel in the fire, and when it was glowing slightly I returned to my customer. His eyes grew bigger as I moved the scalpel towards his arm. With slow movements I pulled the blade through his skin, and wrote the word ‘liar’ in his arm. He would have screamed, the pussy, but the gag prevented him from doing that. The wound was bleeding only slightly, since I had only cut through the outer layers, and since the knife had been hot enough, it had partly burned the wound shut.

 

‘You need to learn that you can’t just do whatever you wish.’

 

My voice must have surprised him, because he stopped wriggling for a moment. My scalpel moved to his other arm, and I cut off his thumb. After pressing a piece of paper against it, I smelled a foul odour. I looked down at his crotch and saw that he had wet himself. Poor fellow, he’d done so much to others, but couldn’t take the heat himself. Precariously I placed the thumb on the butler tray, and lit a candle. I dripped the candle wax over his face, and he almost passed out when I accidentally spoiled some in his right eye. I didn’t want him to go blind, yet, so I made sure that the rest of the wax landed elsewhere.

 

After a while the candle bored me, so I picked my scalpel back up and started drawing. It became a real work of art, but somehow he wasn’t appreciating the beauty of it. By now I had removed half of his skin, and suddenly thought of a new way to play. In one of the kitchen cabinets I had seen vinegar. I hurried over to get it, and washed most of the blood off. Now my artwork was revealed in all his glory. On his, now naked, body was written the story of how he had been mistreating people. This gentlemen that thought of himself as a saviour of souls, had been playing dirty for a while already. Various criminals had walked from prison after paying him royal amounts to declare them insane. Murderers and rapists were now comfortably going through therapy sessions, while they should’ve been locked up and thrown in the deepest dungeons.

 

The words I had so craftily carved in his body told this story, and he knew that I knew. He also knew that I would not show remorse, and that he would pay for what he’d done. It was really a shame that I couldn’t risk removing the gag, but the terrified look in his eyes told me enough. By now the poke in the fire was glowing red-hot, and it was time to mark him. With care I untied one of his arms. He was too scared to pull it back, and probably still hoped that I wouldn’t kill him. I placed the poke on his upper arm, and my mark burned deep into his skin. He fainted. My work here was done and after I had cleaned up the mess I checked the burn; it was deep enough, and would show him for what he was the rest of his life, and maybe it would even help him change his life. I left as quietly as I had come.”

 

Here the voice trails off.

 

“Off course you’re all wondering now, why I didn’t kill him. I’ll tell you why.

 

The next morning our psychiatrist waked up, and discovers that there was no blood. His skin was intact, but his upper arm was hurting like hell. When he rolled up his sleeve he saw the rune sign, my rune sign. He knew it meant that his soul was mine now; he knew that I would be watching him, and would finish the job if he would ever be unfaithful to me.

 

You see, I could have killed him, but I like having people around that owe me. This fellow has been one of my most faithful servants the rest of his life, and has helped entertaining me on many occasions. This was back in ??? I think the guy’s name was Freud, and I think he even did some useful stuff with his life afterwards.”

 

Here the voice stops talking. The marshmallows slide of the stick, and disappear under the hood.

 

“I’d like to take that drink with me, please”

 

Sweetcherrie stops staring as soon as the voice addresses her. She asks with a hoarse voice what drink it may be, and hands over the requested beer. She blinks, and when she looks again the figure is gone, and the stick stops turning and drops dead in the fire.

 

OOC: You know I'm not the only one who is allowed to post in this thread....

[Patrick]

OOC: Sweetcherrie has asked me to write a conclusion to the thread, and approved the idea of a combined Romance/creepy story (well sort of).

 

 

IC: Just as Sweetcherrie was about to get up to put out the fire, Patham approached it. He had a sullen look on his face, still annoyed about having missed the third round of the Beauty Pageant.

 

He sat next to the campfire and accepted the stick with marshmellows someone handed to him. He also accepted the elven wine from Sweetcherrie.

 

He stayed silent for several minutes, giving time for everyone to think about why he had come. He wasn't doing this for the effect, he was gathering his memories, thinking about how exactly to tell the story he had come to tell.

 

"This story shall in places be merry and quite happy, but at other times it shall be darker. It is not easy for me to tell it, because some of the memories still hurt, when I remember them." - he saw some comforting glances from around the campsite, and felt Sweetcherrie's comforting hand on his back. Gathering his courage he started the story.

 

"There was once a girl. I was in love with her, but she did not know this. I had been in love with her for a long time, but had never been able to gather the courage to tell her about my feelings. You see, it might not show, but deep down inside I am a very shy person." He paused looking to see whether anyone looked surprised, but by now everyone still around the campfire were listening to his story.

 

"One day, I finally gathered the courage to ask her out. She said that she didn't think that it would work between us. Deep inside I was shattered. I had several really bad weeks after that. Sometimes I was even thinking whether it was worth continuing, because life in those times had piled so many bad things on me. But eventually I managed to pull through. My friends, among them this girl, helped a lot. Without them, I dare not imagine what would have happened."

 

The fire was slowly starting to die down, but no one seemed to bother about it too much.

 

"You might all say that me talking about this now, it seems that this story isn't dark or creepy in any way, but believe me, some of my thoughts during those times were pretty dark. Thinking for several hours about what would have happened if she had said yes, and then finally realising that it simply isn't going to happen can be a very scary thought. It can be as if your life falls apart in front of your own eyes."

 

One person around the campfire nodded. He must have had a similar experience.

 

"Forgetting is never easy. The girl is a very good friend, and even though at the moment we don't see each other much, it really did help talking to her about all I was going through. She was very understanding."

 

He paused, then thinking that if he had told this much, he might as well continue.

 

"I had loved her very much. I did so for a long time after she had rejected me. And I am still not sure, whether I have forgotten that feeling yet. As I said, forgetting, at least for me, isn't easy."

 

Just as Patham finished talking, with a final glow the fire went out, enveloping those sitting around it in darkness.

Edited August 14, 2005 by Patrick Durham