The reclusive Jahzara has decided to grace us Misticans with her eerie appearance once again to tell the story of Lanturnaucht. She settled down around an old fashioned fire pit, her eyes almost glowing in the fitful orange light. A small, knowing little smile played across her face as she watched the listeners gather around her.
“Once again,” she began in a low voice, almost a whisper, so everyone’s ears pricked and they leaned in closer, “I’ve come to regale you with the tale of Lanturnaucht - there are new faces from last year, after all…” She smiled slightly wider. “My telling will, I believe, be shorter this time, so mind you listen closely.” Her voice hadn’t raised at all, but something in her eyes said she meant every word as though it’d been shouted.
“Darkwood Hollow,” she continued in a louder voice that seemed to resound around her, enrapturing her audience, “was not always so tame. When the first settlers came here years ago, years before Lanturnaucht was even thought of, it was a treacherous place for those who…did not belong. Your forefathers faced many perils to make even our small part of the woods safe, and one of them brought about this celebration.
Phantoms were terrorizing the humble settlers, you see. Their home had not been abused in any manner but they seemed to find it…entertaining…to come out in the dead of night, when the air was chill and the forest floor was black, the moonlight blocked by the forest’s thick, leafy canopy. The phantoms would take handfuls of pommes from the trees and hurl them mercilessly…many of the settlers took injuries because of it, and they would wake every morning to see their small wooden cabins damaged - sometimes partly caved in - from the constant barrage of pommes. This only happened at night; the phantoms seemed to fear the sunrise, and for this the settlers were grateful.” Here Jahzara paused, her bright eyes fixing those before her with a hard, piercing stare to be sure they were paying attention.
“But soon the phantoms conquered the light,” she said in almost a whisper, and the eyes of her audience widened, “and the settlers found themselves trapped, facing the terrors both day and night.” She fell silent and her smirk deepened. “And here…is where I leave you, for now,” she said finally, chuckling in a knowing sort of way, confident her audience would come back for more.
~Mistic Team
(Due to some computer troubles, more monthly updates will come tomorrow night!! Enjoy Jahzara's revamp and the start of the Lanturnacht tale!)
The reclusive Jahzara has decided to grace us Misticans with her eerie appearance once again to tell the story of Lanturnaucht. She settled down around an old fashioned fire pit, her eyes almost glowing in the fitful orange light. A small, knowing little smile played across her face as she watched the listeners gather around her. “Once again,” she began in a low voice, almost a whisper, so everyone’s ears pricked and they leaned in closer, “I’ve come to regale you with the tale of Lanturnaucht - there are new faces from last year, after all…” She smiled slightly wider. “My telling will, I believe, be shorter this time, so mind you listen closely.” Her voice hadn’t raised at all, but something in her eyes said she meant every word as though it’d been shouted.“Darkwood Hollow,” she continued in a louder voice that seemed to resound around her, enrapturing her audience, “was not always so tame. When the first settlers came here years ago, years before Lanturnaucht was even thought of, it was a treacherous place for those who…did not belong. Your forefathers faced many perils to make even our small part of the woods safe, and one of them brought about this celebration.Phantoms were terrorizing the humble settlers, you see. Their home had not been abused in any manner but they seemed to find it…entertaining…to come out in the dead of night, when the air was chill and the forest floor was black, the moonlight blocked by the forest’s thick, leafy canopy. The phantoms would take handfuls of pommes from the trees and hurl them mercilessly…many of the settlers took injuries because of it, and they would wake every morning to see their small wooden cabins damaged - sometimes partly caved in - from the constant barrage of pommes. This only happened at night; the phantoms seemed to fear the sunrise, and for this the settlers were grateful.” Here Jahzara paused, her bright eyes fixing those before her with a hard, piercing stare to be sure they were paying attention.“But soon the phantoms conquered the light,” she said in almost a whisper, and the eyes of her audience widened, “and the settlers found themselves trapped, facing the terrors both day and night.” She fell silent and her smirk deepened. “And here…is where I leave you, for now,” she said finally, chuckling in a knowing sort of way, confident her audience would come back for more.
~Mistic Team(Due to the raffle post, we waited to post the start of the story, our apologies, it was a busy weekend! Part 2 will be this evening, and it will conclude tomorrow night!)
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