WHOLESOME TALES

halfwise wrote:Trollop and strumpet mean different things? Maybe Fyordlandians haver a finer sense of differentiation in some sectors of life?

no, means the same we have a diverse language

azriel wrote:Norc: I love those little Nisse fairies etc, Ive got some "trip trap" pixies that I get out at Christmas.

they're not technically fairies, but yes, you may call em that. they are from a children's christmas tv calendar. The red one is a classic farm-nisse. They do pranks, but if you treat them well, they help you out on the farm.Old folk lore sort of thing. The blue one is more modern, they live in mountains and make the blue-hour, the hour between between daylight and night where the weather is all blue (only if the weather is clean and all). they are busy in the winter preparing for the christmas night, they have to make the night-sky very blue so that the stars will show. Looking forward to it, I hope they show it this year too.

Ol' Anon reckons you've got hold of the photographic record of the Quest,Mrs Figg. How anachronistic! What use of magic! Are you a witch Mrs Figg? So Eldo is a fairy! I just knew it!

Ol' Anon reckons you've got hold of the photographic record of the Quest, Mrs Figg. How anachronistic! What use of magic! Are you a witch Mrs Figg? So Eldo is a fairy afterall! I just knew it!

Chapter Five
The Gnarly Old Grey (Silver) Forest

The moment Elthir joined their ranks in his stout hiking boots, waterproofed trousers, warm cloak with a t-shirt (for warmer weather) under it, and his leather cap (to keep leaves out of his hair), he said, "I'm thinking folks, due to my superior knowledge of all things Tolkien-related, we should make our way through the High Hay and thus proceed into the Old Gnarly Grey (some say 'Silver') Forest. It's a dangerous road, I grant you, but any safer way would be boring and has no place in the kind of adventure I'm be prepared to be a part of."

Eldo frowned, "Who made you Leader of this expedition? If knowing where the best adventures will be had is a criteria for Leadership, then it should be me who leads."

"I never claimed to be Leader," Elthir proclaimed snidely. (I'm not sure why he had to proclaim it snidely, mind). "Though I'm probably over qualified for the job if asked..."

"No you're not," Eldo straightly said. "Not when we've got Julia the Mild Fairy with us who knows almost all there is to know about everything."

"Did you say, 'Julia'?'" Julia asked.

"Ock!" Petty said in utter shock. "Nae where did that coom from, laddie?"

"I know more than you at least, Putty Mecrackin!"

"Ock... "

"Stop! Stop I say!" Orwell interrupted. "Ol' Anon might be using every chance to cause friction between you two, but it's poor lazy writing in my opinion. You know he often throws you two in for a cheap laugh when nothing much is coming to mind. And if he's going to do that he'll soon lose his audience a 'fore long."

Amarie was of a different opinion. "Like with all the innuendoes and naughty stuff, people never really get tired of Julia and Petty fighting. I think it's probably a good idea if they have a fight regularly - especially in the dull parts - which I'm sure - if I know Anon at all - there will be plenty of."

Most of them had to agree with that, except Eldo, who privately thought this was fated to be a dull Quest no matter what happened, at least now that Elthir was on board.

Azriel piped up (politely), "I'm not all that well advised or knowledgeable yet in how things go here on the Wholesome Tales Thread, but shouldn't we just move on? I mean, standing here in the road discussing Anon Author's writing style, ability or methods seems somehow quite irrevalvent to the main gist of what we're doing."

"It's the whole gist as far as I see it!" David said, quite shocked. "Well, most of the gist..."

"I actually agree," Eldo said, having learned a few things about Wholesome Tales in his time.

"This all smacks of navel gazing," Orwell was saying. (He was actually admiring Amaries's navel at that moment - among other things - which clearly influenced his thinking just then).

"Enough of this crap!" Julia cried decisively. "Is this a Tolkien quest or Lewis Carroll?"

"Both in a way," Tin said. "And Narnia as well, when you think about it."

"Don't forget Benny Hill," said Halfy.

"Shut it!" Julia yelled. "I said shut it! Alright, Elthir you lead the way." But seeing Eldo's hurt expresion just then, Julia showed her concilatory side (which surprised everyone), "Oh! And Eldo, you walk at the lead too. With two such brilliant minds leading us, I'm sure we'll soon be in the middle of just the right kind of adventure at just the right time."

Eldo was not altogether happy with this arrangement, but he certainly had no intention of letting Elthir take ALL the lead.

In a trice, they were walking down the Crickhollow Road, then up Gropers Lane, and after awhile they came to a rusty gate in the High Hay.

"We must be wary," Elthir informed them as they lined up at the gate ready to pass into the Old Gnarly Grey Forest. "The Old Gnarly Grey Forest, which I think is actually more Silver than Grey, is full of all sorts of dangerous animals and monsters..."

"... and strumpets and trollops." Eldo added. "And don't forget that tree of evil renown that places a sleepy enchantment on you and so lures you down to his watery roost on the bank of the Withywindywilly..."

"He means Old Man Willow," Elthir put in smugly before Eldo could finish.

"Well, " Julia said pursing her lips in annoyance. "I have no intention at all of remembering that."

"What's the point of knowing what dangers are ahead anyway?" Lance wanted to know.

"Yeah! We'll just avoid them, won't we?" Azriel commented.

"That sounds pretty boring!" Neek said. And she was right (for once).

"See what having Loremasters along does to an adventure," Halfy whispered in David's ear. "The biggest risk is getting bored to death."

"I might say," said Orwell to Eldo, "I never said anything about you (or Elthir for that matter) being boring. It was Halfy just now - not me."

"Shouldn't we be getting along?" Amarie asked Julia politely.

"Yes. Come on you lot. Chip-chop!"

And so the Questers filed through the gate and soon they were lost in the Old Gnarly Grey Forest, which was full of branches and rocks and gullies and blackberry bushes (in some places).

At last, hot tired and cantankerous, they found themselves in a narrow stream bed and, after a few arguments over nothing, they all got sleepy. Little did they know they were getting enchanted by an unknown Treey Being. Down along the little stream southaways they stumbled now. Though, when I say 'southaways', none of them knew that, because they had lost all sense of direction in the gnarly winding helix-like entangled branches of the forest. They were so enchanted in fact that none of them even noticed Goldberry bathing naked in a lily pond as they passed, not even Orwell who always noticed those kinds of things.

(In fairness to Orwell, he was already distracted anyway, him being in a state of delicious mesmerization because of Amarie's pert bottom which seemed translucent white and very fetching when seen through her pink filmantee frock. Orwell had placed himself to walk behind her well back before he got enchanted. He even (before he lost himself in the enchantment) thought that that lovely Fjordianlandian fairy might know what he was up to and that she might not really mind at all, even though she was married to a sturdy Woodsman and had several sturdy children; red faced children with lovely manners and fine appetites for fisk and apple strudel. She might have minded, though, I guess, if she knew what he was up to).

...Suddenly, they were all stuck in the cracks of an ancient Willow Tree.

"I told you so!" Eldo yelled before the lips of a crack closed over him.

"It's Old Man Willow," Elthir cried even as another crack closed on his throat with his body trappped inside the great bole of the tree.

All of the Questers were trapped either inside the tree or half inside the tree, or held under the water by gigantic roots.

Oh what a horribly unexpected thing to happen to them!

"This is like the time Rufus my dog was chasing bandicoots on Bondi Beach," Aleeek cried with her last esoteric breath (hopefully) .

"I've got a twig up my bottom!" David complained. "What an evil evil tree!"

"I hear you can talk to vegetables," Lance yelled. "Say something to it. Like 'We come as friends, Grand Willow, please open your cracks. Especially the one at the rear where your humble servant Lance is jammed tight!'"

"If it was a carrot it might work," David complained as he tried to wiggle out of the firmed crack he was in. "Aaaargh! He's squeezing tighter now!"

"Turn into a carrot! Turn into a carrot!" Rodney's muffled voice came from deep inside the trunk.

"Oh yeah! And that's goinna fuckin' work," David said rolling his eyes. He wasn't usually one to swear, but I mean to say!

"This old hoary tree has only caught me by the hem of my diaphonous see-through dress," Amarie said suddenly. "If I was willing to disrobe totally, I might run off and seek help."

"Do it! Do it!" Orwelll cried. (All Amarie could see of him was his handsome head sticking out a knot hole). "Save us! Save us!" Orwell continued, "Even if your neighbours one day find out you once ran around totally starkers in a narrow stream bed! Save us!"

"If I must, I must," Amarie sighed and in a trice she had broken free.

"Hurrah!" Orwell cried.

"Quickly now," Julia instructed Amarie as she hung by one foot from one of Old Man Willow's higher branches with her frock hanging over her head and her pantaloons showing.

And so Amarie sped off on her swift lithe fairy legs yelling, "Help! Help! My friends are stuck in a tree!"

When she had disappeared among some rushes higher upstream, Orwell looked up and said, "They are panataloons of a very fine quality, Julia."

"I know," she answered, quite pleased at the compliment. "I got them in Needlehole. They're imported, you know."



to be continued...

This tale is most definetly up to the usual standards of the Bugle. As Wholesome as always.

Petty the Scottish McCrabbit fairy

Petty the Scottshobbit McCrabbit fairy?

What wrong with it Orwell? That's me exactly! Uncanny. (Well maybe add wear and tear of 41 years living in a buckie barrel and move the sixpack to inside my belly). I can bring the first buckie to the youngsters, or piss in the buckie barrels of the bad.

Orwell the Bardic fairy

Very handsome - could very well be me - if I actually did look like that, that is.

My first quibble so far: this version of Orwell really can't pass as a fairy. Fairies don't go smashing through walls and such, but this chap looks like he would.

You might be right. I'll talk to Mrs Figg about it.

Mrs Figg... I think we need a less virile seeming... Hey!

Halfy, you just watch it, okay! Or else!!!!!!!!


{{{I feel like my reputation has been impugned no matter which direction I look from ... and by Halfy of all people... }}}

Norc wrote:
The red one is a classic farm-nisse. They do pranks, but if you treat them well, they help you out on the farm.

Oh I NEED some of those!

(Does folklore say where I should look for them?)

they just are there. where's there animals, there they are, but you can't see them.

Editor of the Archet Bugle.

Davidee of Bombadillo.

Elthir the Elusive.

Petty the petulant pixie as a child, having been told there WILL be zombie orcs and bunny sleds in the Hobbit.

Amarie the diaphanous.

Halfwise the hairy Goblin King.

Petty the petulant pixie as a child-- now that one really is uncanny!

Mrs Figg wrote:Petty the petulant pixie as a child, having been told there WILL be zombie orcs and bunny sleds in the Hobbit.

Its very frustrating being on a Quest and having to hang around twiddling my thumbs.

Hey girl, can I have your collection of headbands when you die?