Walking towards Druim Ligen, deep in thought, Masnark passed near Ardee. From the direction of the river, he could hear the laughter of children. Spending most of his time in the front lines of the war and in the newly found lands of Atlantis, it was a sound he did not hear often. He had no idea how much he missed those sounds though. Finding it hard to breathe, he walked towards the sound.


Standing behind a tree, Masnark watched a few children running. To his surprise, among the three Firbolg and four Human children, there were two tiny Lurikeen girls and even one Elven lad. Years ago, that would never have happened. No Elf would have let his child run with the likes of Bolgs or Celts unless absolutely necessary. Smiling to himself, Masnark took some solace from the fact that things were changing. Like everything his kind did, the change was slow. But it was happening. And if they would be able to gap the internal strife inside Hibernia, surely they would be able to push back the hordes of Midgard and the conquering forces of Albion.


The children seemed to be playing a game with the mindless mud-men. Throwing rocks at them, which made them angry, then running away in all direction, laughing their little heart out. Even the Elven child was laughing. Masnark was watching for a long while until one of the little Luri girls saw him watching. She quickly turned her friends' attention to him. The children stopped playing, looking at him very seriously. These looks, so serious, were so out of place on their faces that Masnark couldn’t hold the smile that crept onto his face. The Luri who saw him first took two or three steps towards him, while looking back at her friends to give her courage, and with a heavy lisp said: "We jutht playing with the mud-men, Mathter Enchthanter. Don’t make Thoredine thtop playing!" What she said sounded like a demand more than a request. His smile became even broader. Thoredine must be the young elf, he thought to himself. Masnark looked the Luri over. She was so tiny. She reached the middle of his shin. He crouched down, his knees creaking, so his face would be closer to hers. "Why should I make Thoredine stop playing little one? You children seem to be having fun." The Luri's face became all red. "Thtop making fun of me you gnarled old Elf!" She shouted at him. "It'th not my fault me mouth ithn't working properly!" Too late Masnark saw his mistake, wanting to cover his blunder, he said "Ah! My apologies little lady. My ears are not working like they used to. I am very very old you see. I did not mean to make fun of you." This seemed to placate the little keen. She looked at him, seemingly not angry anymore. "How old are you, Mathter Enchthanter?" Masnark used his staff to stand back up. "I am almost as old as this land, little one. As old as the war." Her tiny little mouth turned into an "O". She motioned her friends to come closer, and they shyly advanced. "Tho you know many thtories?" she asked, looking hopeful. All the childrens faces turned to him expectantly. Masnark had to smile again. "Indeed I do, keen. What story do you want to hear?"


Biting her lower lip, and looking at her friends for support, she said "I want the thtory of why Nat… Nott… Nattmore Fathte ith called The Key to Midgard'th Heart."


((to be continued))

I can't wait for more, Masnark. Very well writen, the description, the images... captivating...


Please actually finish this one, unlike the other story!


<gives Masnark a friendly hug>

Ok, I expected to laugh, which I did.


Masnark if you stop writing this I will harm you. Keep it up. I am intrigued.

Intrigued indeed. Very nice, Mas. Can't wait to read the rest.

Great start! Keep writing this one!

Looking at the sky, and looking towards the portal keep, Masnark decided the war can wait for him. Hibernia was full of great people. His old bones were not as needed as they once were. Smiling at the children, he motioned them towards Ardee. "Let us go sit in Ardee, where the damp will not make my poor bones ache. I will tell you of The Key to Midgard's Heart."


Walking to Ardee, ten children of all sizes around him, chattering and talking all together, the old Enchanter kept his strides small so that the little luries would be able to keep up. A few minutes later, they were all sitting inside the pub, the children's legs dangling from the chairs, barely reaching the floor. The barkeep even brought some books so that the keens would not be too low to watch over the table. As spiced honey drinks were brought in, and some bread with various confectionaries, Masnark gave a dramatic sigh to get the children's attention and with a slight wave of his hand, started telling the tale.


Three hundred years ago, the war was not going well for our side. We were out numbered, we were out-classed. Many said we were just out. But some kept fighting. Some of the oldest clans kept going out and trying to defend our land. Going to other lands, trying to retrieve what is ours. It was at that time when the Hordes of Midgard, tired of constantly defending their realm, fat with the spoils of war, were to be vanquished by a lesser force. A force that just wouldn’t take no for an answer. It was three hundred years ago, when a small band of Hibernians decided to go on their daily jaunt through the Midgardian frontier, to harass the Trolls. It was a small band that started it. A handful Retribution, a handful of Red Branch. I was lucky enough to join them that day. The Drood Zlara and the Keen Saorise were kind enough to accompany me on this adventure.


When he uttered the bolg and keen's names, Masnark was amused to see their little faces again turn into a perfect circle. The little keen who spoke before, spoke again. She seemed to be the mouth on that band of children. "ou know Thlara and Thaorithe? Are they like all thothe thtorieth that are told about them? Wath Thlara really able to heal a dead man with one wave of her hand? Did Thaorithe really beat three Trollth thingle-handedly?"


"Shhh.. This is a story about the Key. Not about them children. Hush now and listen."


Edit: Oops.. Forgot to Lithp.. /blush

Adorable, Masnark...

<is still holding out for the story of Masnark's encounter with Lug>


<folds her arms and looks stubborn>


<secretly listens to the new story anyway>


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

Qwyllian Season 50 (and my parents were very open-minded, I grew up with a firbolg pup named Finderril!) elven ranger

Urgh... This reeks of cuteness... No one tell the Kitty!


<motions Masnark onward>

<arches a kitty brow at Deven>