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There was once a kingdom, vast and wealthy. And at the source of this wealth was a forest, the great forest that surrounded the king's castle and it's villages and land. It was a great protection, those who did not know it well often got lost and this applied both to the armies trying to raid it and to the superstitious.
It was believed that within this forrest lived the Green Man, the God of the woods and with him, all his loyal and magical subjects. A man lost within would be tortured into madness by these creatures and would become such a goblin himself. There was also tell of sacrifices.
There were stories of ancient times, when there were bargainings between Kings and the Green man, to grant the kingdom fertile land and good crops, and in return the Kingdom and all it citizens would not defile the forrest, nor cut or harm it in anyway. And of course, a blood sacrifice now and then, to appease the soil.
But time wears away at memory and the people of that Kingdom forgot their promise. Their hearths grew cold and families grew and mindless of their ancestors promise, they began to hack at the tree's surrounding their home. They dammed the lakes and flooded heathland and began to eat away at the land. It was not only the people, but their King also, disbelieving the stories his mad grandfather had told him as a boy, plucked at the forest, mining the earth beneath for gold and silver and diamonds for his fingers and head and his own greed. And for his daughters of course.
He had a great many of them, 13 daughters but no sons, no heirs to pass his crown to. But he loved them dearly, for all their vanities and childishness.
All except one.
This one had been the only child of his only love, His beloved who had been stolen away by death when she birthed the girl. Even the sight of the child, the youngest of his brood and the last, rose up a dim and disquietening hatred in the King.
The creature that had killed his beloved was a sickly thing, pale with wild dark hair, quite unlike her mother whose hair had been sheathed gold and skin that glowed under his hand. She was also unalike in manner. His beloved had been a joy, always laughing and was almost a girl herself in her manner but her child was solemn, almost grim and solitary. As soon as she had been taught to read, so he'd been told by her Nanny, she had toddled into the vast library and took down volume by volume and devoured them. She rarely came out, told her Nanny, except for meals and to sleep. The king, if he had been inclined, would have thought it strange but he rarely chose to think of that girlchild he had named Drummun.
It was when Drummun was 5 years old that the stag came.
She had been in the gardens, not where the flowers and hedges were pruned into submission but in a darker place, where the royal gardens met the forrest, where the moss grew soft and the air tasted old and good.
She often sat there, out of sight of the palace, reading. She would take books from the library and would sit there most of the day in the shadows of the great oak trees. She knew, even at that age, that her father despised the sight of her and so she would keep herself hidden. For his sake.
That day, her mind had not been on her book. She had been thinking of her father and her sisters who had teased her that morning. About her hair, about her smallness, her books. She had been thinking up a trick to pull on them all, perhaps something to do with their makeup powders and lotions. She looked out into the forrest, where light grew dark and green, where it was easy to lose track of thought and dream.
Then there was white.
White walking out of the green.
Drummun did not scream or run but carefully piled up her books on a log and stood up and straightend the creases in her dresses. Nanny had told her stories, many, about the forrest and the creatures told to be inside. She thought she would like to meet a goblin. It would be interesting at least.
She waited and the white grew closer.
And whiter.
It was a stag.
Only a stag.
But still, a white stag. That was strange, and it's antlers were very big. Drummun had only seen stags in books and a few real ones around the palace, though only the heads and these horns were much bigger. The stag was very big itself, at least a head taller than her and it was carrying something.
Something letter shaped.
And green.
The white stag stopped in front of her, its black eyes staring.
Drummun simply held out a hand.
"Fo' me?"
The Stag stood still but did not relinquish the green envelope. It kept its eyes on her.
"Oh." She let her hand drop and fiddle with hem of her dress.
Drummun thought a moment.
"For my Father, the King?"
The Stag began to back up, to move backwards but only so it could bow its great horned head down in a nod.
"Alright. I'll show you where he is." She began walking back towards the castle and the beast followed.
The King had been eating when Drummun had led the Stag. It was Lunch and Drummun saw all her sisters sat in a long line beside him on the table, daintily picking at food with golden forks, as well as Bom, the Kings Jester. It was only when they grew closer, that he saw his last daughter and the Stag. He dropped his Goblet in shock, which spilled on the eldest daughter who shreiked in anguish at the ruination of her new dress.
His men took great interest however.
"What great sport! Look at the size of that thing."
"And the Pelt! My woman would love that on our wall."
"I want the head, those horns are huge, never seen anything like it."
And they all aimed their muskets at the beast, discussing how they would share it as they did.
They were going to shoot it, Drummun realised.
Kill it.
Without thinking, she reached up, going on her toes as she did, and grasped both horns with her hands. There was one scary moment when Drummun thought the Stag might rear at her, gore her, like the creatures in her books but t
he Stag bowed its head and allowed her to lead fowards. Drummun took small steps, walking beside the beast with difficulty but determined that the creature not end up like those sad heads decorating the palace walls, staring stupidly at the people below.
The King's men murmured and lowered their aims, looking towards their ruler. He said nothing but put a palm out
Stand down
then curled a finger towards the girl.
foward
Drummun came foward, still leading, staying quite close to the Stag's warm body. The Stag reared its head a little, Drummun thought in fright and so took one hand off it's antlers and lay one small hand on its side. She could feel it's blood and breath quickening beneath her fingers.
"Shhh." She murmured and made soft clucking noises like the stable boy did, when the horses were scared by the storms.
It was a long walk to the table.
The Stag shook it's head again, softly though and Drummun let go, stepping backwards, unsure of what was to happen next.
And it was a little frightening, at least to her, what did.
The Stag moved foward a few more steps, hooves clicking on the white stone and without warning, leapt with great force onto the table of the King.
Jugs spilled water and wine and platters of meat and bread were scattered and broken. The King's daughters leapt back from the table in fright, tripping on the hems of their spendid gowns, in fear of both the stag and for their clothes. The King however, remained sitting with a replenished goblet of wine in his hand.
The King and the Stag stared at one another for a long moment, the tips of the antler's branches only centimtres away from the mans eyes.
The King's face pulled in a sneer.
The King''s men quickly re-aimed their guns and the Royal court stood, and some fainted, in shock.
Then the Stag dropped his letter onto the kings lap, snorted at him and dismounted the long table with a clatter.
Drummun stood aside, mouth ever so slightly ajar as it walked back down the hall for a moment, then ran after it, her steps echoing jarringly in the silence the creature had left.
The King, not noticing the girlchild gone, used a knife to rip the envelope open.
Inside was a piece of cloth, red like the uniform of his soldiers, ripped and ragged.
And a note, written in green ink, though his mind, his secret mind whispered that it was not ink, but moss that writ the words on the note.
return to the green
"Please, stop!"
She had chased it back out into the garden. She wasn't followed. The king's men were too busy with his majesty, so the Stag was safe.
"Please!"
They were on the outskirts again, Drummun could see the jackets of her books, bright against the green and she was running out of breath.
Her legs were hurting too.
"Halt, stop, desist! Please!"
It heeded her.
It stopped and turned its horned head around to face the girl. It looked almost solemn.
Drummun almost tripped as she tried to stop and when she did, she had to sit and catch her breath.
The Stag stood silently, waiting.
Finally, Drummun stood again, a little wobbly but still standing, and began untying a necklace from around her neck. She soon had it sitting in her palm, pale metal links spilling between her fingers.
"See this," She pointed with a thin finger to the imprinted emblem on the charms flat surface, where a crown and tree entwined sank into the gold surface "This is the Royal Crest, our coat of ahms. I want you to have it." She held it out to the Stags nose.
"No one will try to shoot you if you wear it. You'll be rorayally protected. No one kills the Kings animals. They'd be killed if they did. Understand?"
The Stag did nothing for a moment then bowed it's head for the last time. The girl wrapped the chain around an antler several times, pulling at it to make sure it was on tight.
She nodded.
Tight.
The beast then rose its head, the charm on its horn swinging in a smooth arc, then walked back into the forrest, the white of its pelt turning black in the dark.
It would be 13 years until she saw it again and the stories of the Green Man would come back to light.
a possible childs story that I made up, comments would be nice
It was believed that within this forrest lived the Green Man, the God of the woods and with him, all his loyal and magical subjects. A man lost within would be tortured into madness by these creatures and would become such a goblin himself. There was also tell of sacrifices.
There were stories of ancient times, when there were bargainings between Kings and the Green man, to grant the kingdom fertile land and good crops, and in return the Kingdom and all it citizens would not defile the forrest, nor cut or harm it in anyway. And of course, a blood sacrifice now and then, to appease the soil.
But time wears away at memory and the people of that Kingdom forgot their promise. Their hearths grew cold and families grew and mindless of their ancestors promise, they began to hack at the tree's surrounding their home. They dammed the lakes and flooded heathland and began to eat away at the land. It was not only the people, but their King also, disbelieving the stories his mad grandfather had told him as a boy, plucked at the forest, mining the earth beneath for gold and silver and diamonds for his fingers and head and his own greed. And for his daughters of course.
He had a great many of them, 13 daughters but no sons, no heirs to pass his crown to. But he loved them dearly, for all their vanities and childishness.
All except one.
This one had been the only child of his only love, His beloved who had been stolen away by death when she birthed the girl. Even the sight of the child, the youngest of his brood and the last, rose up a dim and disquietening hatred in the King.
The creature that had killed his beloved was a sickly thing, pale with wild dark hair, quite unlike her mother whose hair had been sheathed gold and skin that glowed under his hand. She was also unalike in manner. His beloved had been a joy, always laughing and was almost a girl herself in her manner but her child was solemn, almost grim and solitary. As soon as she had been taught to read, so he'd been told by her Nanny, she had toddled into the vast library and took down volume by volume and devoured them. She rarely came out, told her Nanny, except for meals and to sleep. The king, if he had been inclined, would have thought it strange but he rarely chose to think of that girlchild he had named Drummun.
It was when Drummun was 5 years old that the stag came.
She had been in the gardens, not where the flowers and hedges were pruned into submission but in a darker place, where the royal gardens met the forrest, where the moss grew soft and the air tasted old and good.
She often sat there, out of sight of the palace, reading. She would take books from the library and would sit there most of the day in the shadows of the great oak trees. She knew, even at that age, that her father despised the sight of her and so she would keep herself hidden. For his sake.
That day, her mind had not been on her book. She had been thinking of her father and her sisters who had teased her that morning. About her hair, about her smallness, her books. She had been thinking up a trick to pull on them all, perhaps something to do with their makeup powders and lotions. She looked out into the forrest, where light grew dark and green, where it was easy to lose track of thought and dream.
Then there was white.
White walking out of the green.
Drummun did not scream or run but carefully piled up her books on a log and stood up and straightend the creases in her dresses. Nanny had told her stories, many, about the forrest and the creatures told to be inside. She thought she would like to meet a goblin. It would be interesting at least.
She waited and the white grew closer.
And whiter.
It was a stag.
Only a stag.
But still, a white stag. That was strange, and it's antlers were very big. Drummun had only seen stags in books and a few real ones around the palace, though only the heads and these horns were much bigger. The stag was very big itself, at least a head taller than her and it was carrying something.
Something letter shaped.
And green.
The white stag stopped in front of her, its black eyes staring.
Drummun simply held out a hand.
"Fo' me?"
The Stag stood still but did not relinquish the green envelope. It kept its eyes on her.
"Oh." She let her hand drop and fiddle with hem of her dress.
Drummun thought a moment.
"For my Father, the King?"
The Stag began to back up, to move backwards but only so it could bow its great horned head down in a nod.
"Alright. I'll show you where he is." She began walking back towards the castle and the beast followed.
The King had been eating when Drummun had led the Stag. It was Lunch and Drummun saw all her sisters sat in a long line beside him on the table, daintily picking at food with golden forks, as well as Bom, the Kings Jester. It was only when they grew closer, that he saw his last daughter and the Stag. He dropped his Goblet in shock, which spilled on the eldest daughter who shreiked in anguish at the ruination of her new dress.
His men took great interest however.
"What great sport! Look at the size of that thing."
"And the Pelt! My woman would love that on our wall."
"I want the head, those horns are huge, never seen anything like it."
And they all aimed their muskets at the beast, discussing how they would share it as they did.
They were going to shoot it, Drummun realised.
Kill it.
Without thinking, she reached up, going on her toes as she did, and grasped both horns with her hands. There was one scary moment when Drummun thought the Stag might rear at her, gore her, like the creatures in her books but t
he Stag bowed its head and allowed her to lead fowards. Drummun took small steps, walking beside the beast with difficulty but determined that the creature not end up like those sad heads decorating the palace walls, staring stupidly at the people below.
The King's men murmured and lowered their aims, looking towards their ruler. He said nothing but put a palm out
Stand down
then curled a finger towards the girl.
foward
Drummun came foward, still leading, staying quite close to the Stag's warm body. The Stag reared its head a little, Drummun thought in fright and so took one hand off it's antlers and lay one small hand on its side. She could feel it's blood and breath quickening beneath her fingers.
"Shhh." She murmured and made soft clucking noises like the stable boy did, when the horses were scared by the storms.
It was a long walk to the table.
The Stag shook it's head again, softly though and Drummun let go, stepping backwards, unsure of what was to happen next.
And it was a little frightening, at least to her, what did.
The Stag moved foward a few more steps, hooves clicking on the white stone and without warning, leapt with great force onto the table of the King.
Jugs spilled water and wine and platters of meat and bread were scattered and broken. The King's daughters leapt back from the table in fright, tripping on the hems of their spendid gowns, in fear of both the stag and for their clothes. The King however, remained sitting with a replenished goblet of wine in his hand.
The King and the Stag stared at one another for a long moment, the tips of the antler's branches only centimtres away from the mans eyes.
The King's face pulled in a sneer.
The King''s men quickly re-aimed their guns and the Royal court stood, and some fainted, in shock.
Then the Stag dropped his letter onto the kings lap, snorted at him and dismounted the long table with a clatter.
Drummun stood aside, mouth ever so slightly ajar as it walked back down the hall for a moment, then ran after it, her steps echoing jarringly in the silence the creature had left.
The King, not noticing the girlchild gone, used a knife to rip the envelope open.
Inside was a piece of cloth, red like the uniform of his soldiers, ripped and ragged.
And a note, written in green ink, though his mind, his secret mind whispered that it was not ink, but moss that writ the words on the note.
return to the green
"Please, stop!"
She had chased it back out into the garden. She wasn't followed. The king's men were too busy with his majesty, so the Stag was safe.
"Please!"
They were on the outskirts again, Drummun could see the jackets of her books, bright against the green and she was running out of breath.
Her legs were hurting too.
"Halt, stop, desist! Please!"
It heeded her.
It stopped and turned its horned head around to face the girl. It looked almost solemn.
Drummun almost tripped as she tried to stop and when she did, she had to sit and catch her breath.
The Stag stood silently, waiting.
Finally, Drummun stood again, a little wobbly but still standing, and began untying a necklace from around her neck. She soon had it sitting in her palm, pale metal links spilling between her fingers.
"See this," She pointed with a thin finger to the imprinted emblem on the charms flat surface, where a crown and tree entwined sank into the gold surface "This is the Royal Crest, our coat of ahms. I want you to have it." She held it out to the Stags nose.
"No one will try to shoot you if you wear it. You'll be rorayally protected. No one kills the Kings animals. They'd be killed if they did. Understand?"
The Stag did nothing for a moment then bowed it's head for the last time. The girl wrapped the chain around an antler several times, pulling at it to make sure it was on tight.
She nodded.
Tight.
The beast then rose its head, the charm on its horn swinging in a smooth arc, then walked back into the forrest, the white of its pelt turning black in the dark.
It would be 13 years until she saw it again and the stories of the Green Man would come back to light.
a possible childs story that I made up, comments would be nice
My own online webcomic!
Hi guys,
You know I haven't been around much, due to university and such, and I'm awful sorry bout it.
But now I actually have something to show for it.
I made a 60 page, traditional/digital comic for my final project and it's on tumblr as a webcomic here! http://the-woods-are-coming.tumblr.com/
If you like my work, and wanna see a good old narrative, please check it out. I'll be updating every week so there'll be a lot to look at.
Thanks guys!
Bea
Anybody want a commission?
I'm so up for drawing stuff that didn't come from my brain. just note me if you are x
I have a tumblr
just in case you didn't know http://hollowlass.tumblr.com/
Animation for University
Hey guys, i know i havent been around in a while, main reason being i've been working on an animation for this terms project. I would really appreciate it if you had a look! Its about the fear of walking alone at night.
http://hollowlass.tumblr.com/post/118476899488/god-i-have-spent-over-two-months-on-this-thing#notes
THANKYOU and i will probably actually be putting stuff on here after i am finished this darn project
© 2011 - 2024 anonbea
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