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#soft beautiful silent she emerged from the fog bank
amrv-5 · 1 year
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heard we were boatposting…
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shardclan · 6 years
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There was a lot that Riley already knew as she waited at Thunder's March to be cleared for passage to the mainland. That the Lightning Liaison, for example, was some love-burned old battleaxe with the sense of humor of a salt lick. That she was the one who made the rules, but her primary enforcer was Paradise, who would most certainly have remembered Riley and probably taken the opportunity to have a little power trip. Good-natured or not, a mother like Paradise wouldn't forget someone who price gouged them for information on where their seemingly kidnapped child was. 
Riley was careful to have her glamour up well before she arrived at the ugly as hell copper customs check, and even though nobody in the old clan had ever seen her glamour before, she had dressed as unlike herself as possible. Her naturally harsh, angular face and beady eyes aside, she bore almost no resemblance to the Riley that was once a part of Clan Shard. And while it was an immense annoyance to be covered in flowers and lace like some prissy grandma, it had the effect she wanted.
Like a rat released into an unsuspecting silo of the finest golden grain, Riley was granted passage into the idyllic sunlight of a perfect late summer day in the Sunbeam Ruins.
Ostensibly, her primary target was the new heir. But it would be incredibly obvious to walk in and go right for her. There'd be someone eyeing her if she came on too strong. Better to make a day trip of it. Maybe update some of her long out of date records of the old clan members and see if there was anything interesting to be sniffed out among its newer members. 
The experience wasn't without its certain kind of nostalgia. As she smoothly dodged the welcome center at Noon Point, she saw a young, blindingly blonde imperial male and knew he was one of Saber and Galbana's even before she saw him happily fussing over a luscious looking cake. Her tongue flicked in irritation; their family had never given Riley anything worth keeping note of and she had been hoping they would come away a little more damaged. Instead they had another kid that was pretty much a reflection of his surroundings.
Noon Point was bright and warm and unguarded--nothing like the foot of the Focal Point, which had been dark and easy to skulk in. Here she had to lean in to the mannerisms of a lazily curious window shopper to stay inconspicuous and watch the little things happen. She bought a bauble and some cake, munching and making notes in her book as she went:
Kea, fruits and vegetables dropped off with a pearlcatcher = too many horns and a clearly visible glow. 
Parhelia-turned-pearlcatcher = Old, already-published news
Skydancer that looks on the verge of his seventh major nervous breakdown. Mail dragon. Occult shop next door. Omen’s? 
Not enough sage/inkwells laying around.
 Cloudwhyte and Alchemilla flirting in front of the Sundial Brewery like not a godsdamn thing has changed since the day they first started throwing fuck me eyes at each other. 
Even the prison looks harmless. From the outside. 
Merchant selling weapons.  Huge inventory + small stall = few buyers.
Not a true seller. Listened too hard. Waiting for me to say some keyword. Overcharged too.
A fae with a sewing basket at his stall - something exchanged. She left the basket.
Primsy. Seamstress. Same guild as Fletch/Willowalk. Helping the weapons trade somehow?
Eventually, she had meandered to the edge of the point, well beyond the transient bazaars, to find what she was looking for. The library was tall and stately and warded like a vault. She noted uncomfortably that some soft, not particularly martial-looking serthis (by their species standards, anyway) were visible through the enormous windows on the ground floor. They were speaking with a pearlcatcher that bore an impossibly strong resemblance to a mossy cerdae.
Noisily sucking sugar off her fingers, she ambled up the steps and made her way inside and to the upper floors, padding as silently as possible. She had reliable intel that the mages in the clan were only allowed to practice their magic at the top floor, and the new queen was supposedly well on her way to becoming an archmage, so it made as much sense as anywhere else.
"Does it hurt at all?" a small voice asked.
Riley stopped, and had her notebook and pencil out in a single flick of her hands.
"It feels weird," a much bigger, scratchier voice answered. "Doesn't hurt though. Are you sure you're okay, your majesty?"
Two females, and that 'your majesty' certainly wasn't being directed at Telos. Riley peeked her head above the floorboards, and spotted the large one first. Guardian woman with cherub patterns, deeply red and incredibly messy hair, pink and blue opal. She was holding hands with a small fae girl whose age Riley couldn't quite figure out, but she was wearing a white crown that every now and again flickered with a vaguely pink facet. That would be 'her majesty', the Heiress Rebis. 
Where her hand met the guardian's, there was a deep pink stain in the coloration. But more interestingly, the opalescence was actually growing. Not spreading but jutting out in the distinct pale blue quartz formations distinct to celestine.
"We always thought my opalescence was inert," the guardian said curiously. "Guess not."
Rebis pulled her hand back, and looked thoughtfully at her own hands. "Rubranova, I can't approve of this. We don't know what effect that has on you."
"Sure we do." She reached down the spire that had growing from her forearm and with the brutish strength of a healthy young guardian, broke it off. The sound elicited a small shriek from the heiress, but Riley watched silently with a rapt and almost lustful expression, scribbling as fast as her fingers would go. 
Rubranova flexed her hand and waggled the rod of celestine at Rebis. "You shouldn't freak out like that. I'm a doctor. Or at least, I'm a doctor's daughter. Good enough. Anyway, your eyes are gold again. First time since you came back."
"That's not enough to put you ask risk," Rebis insisted.
"Sure ain't. So we're going to go to Ashes and get me re-checked. See if this is poisoning me or something. At the very least, this means I should be your aide or something. Who else is going to be able to help you in an emergency? Me being there might be the difference between life and death for you, you know?"
Rebis' fins drooped. "You don't...even know me."
"You're the next queen. And I might be able to help you in a way no one else can. Isn’t that enough?"
"You're barely grown!" the heiress cried earnestly. “Too young to be burdened with this.”
Riley watched Rubranova scratch her chin with the piece of celestine that had previously been a part of her body. She seemed more confused than offended.
"So are you."
Riley snapped her book shut and slid down the railing back to the ground floor. She couldn't believe she was lucky enough to have caught all that. A jaguar-patterned bogsneak she didn’t recognize reprimanded her at the bottom.
"A strange choice of place to use as your playground," she remarked with an imperiously raised brow. “Another place will suit your whims better, I think.”
"Sorry," Riley said with a barely contained grin. "I'm just on my way out. Can I ask you something, though? I just saw a beauty of a guardian up there. All red, kinda pinky blue opal? You know anything about her?"
"Rubranova," she answered with a slow nod. "Spare your attempts to woo her. The Tahalils are a family of beauty, but that one has no interest in romance or its pleasures."
“Tahalils?”
“The doctors,” she clarified. 
Haematica’s stock then, Riley thought with a slight needle of worry. One of Haematica’s daughters had married a son of Camellia’s. As Riley remembered it, Camellia had always mated with rarer breeds, but it wasn’t as though that was a rule. She didn’t have any rules. Rubranova might very well be Camellia’s grandchild, and with Heaven supposedly missing, that wasn’t anything she wanted to be caught dabbling in. That meant getting far, far away from Noon Point. 
She took a flight through the southeast part of the territory, admiring just how much like a crystalspine House Betelgeuse really looked. (And truthfully admiring even more that they had convinced the Lightweaver to let such an obvious Arcane structure stand so monolithic on her land. There was dirt there but even she wasn’t stupid enough to defy a deity their privacy. At least not when she wasn’t sure she could get away with it. ) She curved around, peering down at the geometrically perfect concentric columns and arcade of the Court of Five Lights. As curious as she was, that place would be full of familiar faces. And the last thing she wanted was to cross paths with Azricai. House Perihelion and the Leyline Gardens dotted the landscape in the far west, but lacked the grandeur of the central and eastern districts. With no idea where the little imperator of the clan would be, she swung north toward the Shadow border. 
Riley had wanted to visit Bramble Step since the day she first heard about it. And it didn’t disappoint her. 
The fog! The darkness! The dedication of the people to keeping their head down but their ears open! The constant whisper of secrets being exchanged! It was the closest she had ever felt to patriotism. 
“--angry you think she’ll be?”
“This close to leaving and the wedding still in the works? She’ll probably want to throttle the little asshole.”
Riley froze at the familiar voices, and melted easily into the nearest fog bank, squinting busily at her book. Her mind raced, because she thought one of those voices was Atsushi and they had been on terms of a reasonable kind once. Trading him information on where Carnelian was at any given time had once been both a great way to keep tabs on eastern sornieth’s goings on, and an even better way to piss Carnelian off. 
But far more importantly, her adrenaline was racing because she knew damn well the other voice was Carnelian himself. It didn’t make sense. Atsushi was literally everything Carnelian hated. Obsessive, two-faced, self-serving, all but blind to personal boundaries, and a necromancer on top of that. Hell, she had specifically let it slip to Atsushi that Carnelian wasn’t solely into females to make their interactions worse and Carnelian had shown up the very next day and tried to tear her horns off. And now they were chatting? Amicably? What the fuck was going on? 
Something good, the more focused part of her mind pointed out. 
“She wouldn’t do that,” Atsushi said casually. 
“Not a chance. But it would take a saint to not at least consider it. As long as Junior and Jorah are fine, she’ll accept it.” 
“I mean, they were when I left, but I felt Camellia around so they might be dead now.”
“Mmm, something happened at House Betelgeuse so Lutia went out there too.”
“...We might be able to go save them,” Atsushi teased, smirking.
Carnelian snorted, but Riley could see him grinning. “Eleven rest them and you too if you want that suicide mission.”  
 A cloud of smoke scented of sweet tobacco and fiery cindermint joined the fog, turning Riley’s stomach. His choice in smokes was still abysmal. She didn’t dare move, so she strained to hear them as they passed her by.
“So is it technically the Twelve now?”
“Nah, I don’t think so, it’s not like he’s a separate element. Maybe it explains the Arcanist’s constellation though.”
“The Emperor?”
“They don’t call it that anymore, its-- Wait, you’re into astrology?”
“Not really, but whenever Omen pens the horoscope, I pay attention.”
Riley’s mind was reeling. A twin of the Arcanist? She wouldn’t have believed it if Lutia and Camellia hadn’t also been involved. What had happened to it? Where was it now? She was filled with the kind of questions whose answers had gotten her in trouble in the past. And because she had not changed at all, she immediately chased after them. 
The click of her shoes was deafening in the fog. She hadn’t noticed at all that their passing had been entirely silent aside from their voices. They turned back to look at her rather casually. They didn’t seem bothered that they might have been overheard, or followed, but the moment Carnelian parted the fog to see what manner of idiot or lost tourist he was dealing with, he froze. 
Riley tried to look the least like herself possible, but the look on his face suggested there wasn’t a glamour or mask or choice of wardrobe in all of Sornieth that could have hidden her identity from him. So she dropped the bit and lit a cigarillo.
“You two have certainly gotten close~” she called, leering over the smoke. 
Atsushi clearly remembered her--the look of recognition at the sound of her voice was telltale--yet he wasn’t quick to be his candid self. His eyes went to Carnelian, who hadn’t moved an inch and was coolly staring her way. 
The last time they had spoken had been in front of his daughter’s burning corpse. No doubt seeing her face again was bringing back all kinds of bad memories, and she didn’t have a good grasp on what kind of man he had become after all that. He had ripped a pearlsnatcher’s wings off, sure, but that wasn’t much different from the violent imperial she had stalked in eons past. 
Finally, Carnelian gave an indifferent huff, and kept walking. “Anyway, Omen’s horoscopes have probably saved my life at least once.”
“Really?” Atsushi went after him without a second glance at Riley. “I would never have picked you for the superstitious type.”
“It’s about as superstitious as an almanac if a witch writes it.”
Riley stared after them both. Atsushi was one thing, if he had Carnelian’s attention she hardly found it odd for him to have tunnel vision. But Carnelian had just...ignored her entirely. It should have been a red flag, but she took it the way she usually did: as permission. 
She walked right up and before she could even begin to overstep her boundaries, Carnelian had her by the horns. She stared at him, feeling terror well up even as he continued to look at her with complete detachment. Almost as if he were regarding an uninteresting bug.
To yet more of her surprise, he released her entirely unharmed. Atsushi shrugged somewhat impatiently her way when she looked at him for an explanation. “Things change.”
“Enough for you two to be friends?” she spat, as skeptical as she was disgusted.
Carnelian’s brows drew together. He flicked the last of his cigar into an alley, very carefully blew the last of the smoke into Riley’s face, and leaned down to kiss Atsushi. 
Riley’s mind blanked. It was happening right in front of her, but some vital connection between the act and the implications was failing and in its absence it became as if she had accidentally happened on strangers kissing in the street. How else was she supposed to make sense of Carnelian, who could barely be caught giving his own daughter an affectionate gesture, openly kissing someone he had previously hated at least as much as he hated her--in the middle of the street no less?
It was the growl that snapped her out of it. A half-rumbled remark about Atsushi being short before Carnelian abandoned the effort of bending and scooped him up instead. And something about Atsushi’s calves crossing over Carnelian’s lower back sent a bolt through Riley that lasso’d her rapidly disassociating mind back to ground zero. 
“WH-WHA-” she stammered, making a lot of noise but very little sense.
Atsushi surfaced from whatever the fuck was happening, and she was almost glad for the familiarity of the manic look in his eyes. But it quickly took a turn into radiating menace, and he snarled at her with more force than she thought possible from someone so breathless. 
“GO. AWAY.”
At that point, having gotten far more information that she really wanted, she was more than happy to obey, and in fact obeyed her way all the way back through Thunder’s March, taking nothing but her notebook and a bottle of the stiffest alcohol she could find.
On her way out, Paradise wished her safe travels and hoped she would visit Aphaster again. 
Riley closed her eyes and got to work removing the cork. It was going to be a long trip home. 
@boyonetta
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tanuki-kimono · 6 years
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Japanese folk tales #66 - The Wave
Find my tales tagged here or visit my blog for both english and french versions.
Wish me to cover a special youkai or subject? Contact me, I’ll try to accommodate ❤️
Once upon a time, there was sweet couple who lived a comfortable life by the sea. Despite their material comfort, both were very sad for they could not have children.
They had tried everything, patiently summoning famed physicians, and hiring priests for ritual chants and prayers. But alas, years and years passed, and no infant came to brighten their lives.
Finally, they both decided to make a pilgrimage to the mountains which stood at a few days walk from their home city.
They walked through soft hills, then ascended grassy slopes towered by heavy peaks, going up and up until thick fog veiled the world around them.
After a stony ridge, a lone weathered shrine appeared draped in mist. A beaten bell and faded rope dangled from the porch, shielding worn out carved doors closing the tiny sanctuary.
The couple clapped their hands and bowed, tolling the bell to beckon whatever god guarded this far off place.
– Please, send us a child.
Only winds answered their prayers, and after long, silent hours, both reluctantly made their way back to their so quiet home.
Surprisingly, a few months later, the lady became pregnant and soon, she birthed a lively baby girl.
The couple was overjoyed to see their hopes at last came true. Their little girl was for them the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.
With her wistful dark eyes and brilliant smile, she looked as mysterious and changing as the sea. Lovingly, they decided to celebrate her wavering nature, naming her Onami from the waves which crashed on the coast near their house.
Time passed as Onami grew up brightening their home with joy. Soon, she had become a young lady, with flowing hair nearly as long as herself, and pearly translucent skin.
And one day, her aging parents received a first marriage proposal.
– Oh fast years flies…
Onami was still young and carefree, so her parents did not spoke a word about the proposal.
But, a few months later, a second letter soon followed. Then a third arrived, then a fourth, each time from more and more respectable families.
The old couple could not ignore them anymore.
They summoned their beloved Onami and handed her the letters. She rose shocked eyes already filling up with tears:
– But, I don’t want to leave you! No, I refuse to marry!
Her parents exchanged worried looks. Yet, seizing their daughter’s obvious distress, they said no more and put the letters away, promising to forget about all this.
Smile blossomed on Onami’s face and quiet life returned to their home. But, those halcyon days did not last.
Months went by and the couple could felt their bones aching, each and every day taking a toll on them. They could not stop worrying about Onami’s fate.
– What will happened of her after we died? We are her only family!
Finally, they could not take it anymore:
– Onami dear, we have found you the best husband a girl could wish for. He is sweet and his family kind and good hearted. They will care after you.
Their daughter eyed them, face unreadable. In the end, she sighed and bowed in agreement. Then she said:
– I am only asking for one thing. And then you will not have to worry about me.
Relieved, her parents rejoiced:
– Everything you wish love!
– Please, let us all make a pilgrimage to that shrine in the mountains where you prayed and prayed so many years ago…
This was such an humble wish that the old couple eagerly agreed.
The three of them soon departed, taking the road through soft hills, ascended grassy slopes, and passing the stony ridge.
The lone shrine still stood as weathered as before. Yet this time, no winds howled, no mist draped the place. And beneath bright noon sun, a cobalt mountain lake glittering behind it.
The old couple and their daughter prayed once more, thanking the god for its kindness. Then, they decided to rest for a while on the bank before heading back.
The man and his wife sat down, as Onami stood unmoving, water softly kissing her feet.
Suddenly, a ripple shook the surface. It grew and grew, until becoming a huge wave. Before her parents could make a move, it had swooped Onami on, carrying her away deep into the abyss as her long hair billowed behind her.
The old couple remained alone on the bank, wailing as their hearts bled at the loss of their cherished daughter.
Yet, as the waters stilled indifferent to their cries, a white shadow flashed underwater.
It glided and wound smoothly, until finally pearly scales broke the surface.
As the old couple fell to their knees trembling, a huge white snake emerged from the lake. It coiled lovingly around them and in a sad hiss, it murmured:
– Fear no more you who prayed so fervently at my shrine. Worry not, for you have brought me joy for years to come.
And as husband and his wife cried tears of mixed sadness and pride, fondly stroking the soft ivory scales, the snake uncoiled its long gracious body.
And Onami disappeared back into the mountain lake, never again to be seen.
Notes:
You can easily witness volcanic activity in Kyushu island – from the large caldera of Mount Aso, to the Sakurajima volcano near Kagoshima, and the famous hell hot springs of Beppu.
This folk tale ends at the volcano group of Mount Kirishima. There, stands the beautiful crater lake of Onami, named after a ruyjin (dragon/snake god) which incarnated into a baby until returning to nestle its waters forever.
Snakes and dragons share in Asia many characteristics. They are watery creatures, sometime bad, but often of good omen. And much like in this past tale, today’s snake story also stresses their ancient underlying role of fertility bringers, interesting here as volcanic soil is known to be incredibly fruitful.
On a side note, it’s worth noting that adoption was in fact pretty common in Japan: you could be adopted as a child or an adult, for sentimental and/or business reasons. So an infertile couple -especially rich like today’s one- would have probably simply adopted a relative’s child (but it’s always nice to be blessed by a snake god ;)).
[pictures sources: 1 / 2 / 3 ]
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kingdomvale · 5 years
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Ballek of Hobb’s End
The tale of Ballek of Hobbs end.  
Ballek was a gambler and down on his luck.  After being involved in several strange and wonderful adventures he found himself on the wrong end of the King’s good justice and also deeply in debt to a local usurer of some power within the money lenders guild.  More importantly, Ballek had run a-foul  of Harbis Klormin, a half elf and the leader of the thieves guild of Dunwich.  Needless to say, Ballek found himself in need of a vacation as quickly as possible and fled from the temperate south to the highlands on the borders of the old forest.
It did not take long before Ballek found himself following a large winding river into the unknown hills.  After a brief encounter with a young hill giantess named Gressa(to whom he professed his undying love and promised to wed).  Gressa had agreed that Ballek could leave for a year and a day so that he  could gather sufficient wealth to keep her in grand fashion (and provide her all the mutton she could eat).  As Ballek made his way up the river he was surprised one morning to find the sun reflecting off a beautiful lake of enormous size.  Though he could see the far bank well enough the end of the lake disappeared across the horizon and appeared to be swallowing the sun.  
Ballek blessed his luck and journeyed along the lake until he found a large tree that hung over the water.  He could see from the branches of the tree and abundance of fish glistening like silver in the water.  With little effort he caught several fish using his cloak like a net to scoop them from the lake.  Ballek sat down to a grand breakfast which he ate as if he were starving (which technically he was having not eaten in almost a week).  Having his fill of fish and clear water, Ballek wished only that he may have a little wine, some cheese and perhaps toasted bread.  You see, Ballek was the kind of man who is never satisfied even when he has a good thing he wishes for more or better.
As Ballek wandered along the western bank of the lake he wished that he had a place to rest.  He also wished for a fire to warm himself or better a soft bed and a roof over his head so that need not sleep out under the stars.  No sooner than he wished this a voice came from near the edge of the water.
“there is a fine camp only a few miles ahead” said the voice.
Ballek was taken aback for he had believed himself alone on the shore of the lake.  
“Thank you kindly” he replied.  
Ballek looked up and down the shore searching for the source of the voice. Seeing no one he cast his gaze inland to the forest and again could see no other person.  Shrugging he began walking again and whistling to keep his courage up.  Before long, Ballek had all but forgotten the voice.  He sang and laughed and tossed stones into the lake as he wandered further north.  Eventually he became hungry again and said aloud.
“If only I had something to eat on this lovely day”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he saw ahead a small table and chair sitting on a large rock that jutted out into the lake.  The table was covered with a fine red cloth and on it was spread a meal of bread with butter and honey, roasted chicken, and a silver goblet full of golden mead.  
Ballek stared in amazement, but remembered his manners.  He had heard tales of the fey folk who would entertain lonely wanderers only to turn on them when offended by the slightest word or misdeed of their guest.  
“This is indeed a fine table and fare suitable for a king.  I give my heartiest thanks to you and yours”  He said politely as he approached the table. “There is but one thing that could make this feast better.”  Bellek mused.
At this the same voice as before was heard  “what is  it that could improve the meal I have provided?”
Though the words rang clear and sweet as a bell, Ballek felt he could sense that he may have insulted his host.  “Why nothing could improve this fine meal, but I have wandered long and lonely and would love some company as I eat.  I hate to ask but I would be most deeply honored if you would join me that I may share your company and thank you personally for your generosity”
With that, Ballek glanced out the corner of his eyes toward the forest. Ballek knew that you could not see faerie folk if you looked directly at them unless they wished to be seen. Looking away he did not see the beautiful maiden as she emerged from the water and was shocked and flustered to see her standing beside the table when he looked back to his meal.
“Do I frighten you?” she asked.
“No, not at all sweet maiden.  I was merely stunned for a moment by your beauty.”  Ballek was used to uttering such pleasantries in order to charm his way into the hearts of women, but rarely had he been so honest.  The maiden was gorgeous long of limb with hair the color of flax and brilliant eyes that shimmered blue like the sky.  
I need not go further into the details of that meal on the rock, but the two were great company for hours and hours until the sun began to sink behind the mountains to the west.  Ballek offered to build a fire and stay with the maiden through the night, but she insisted that she must be away.  
“No, I insist.” Ballek exclaimed and quickly began gathering wood and building a pile of sticks for a fire on the rocky shore.  The maiden watched bemused as Ballek tried his hand at starting a fire with the damp wood.  He had just given up when of its own accord the fire sprang to life.  He stared at the burning wood wondering how it had suddenly caught light when he heard a small splash in the water.  The maiden was gone.
Ballek was no fool and prided himself on his memory of tales of wonder told by grandmothers around evening fires.  He knew of selkies and the mischief that they could bring to men who were foolish enough to fall in love with them.  But this night he did not care, he sat with his back to the fire and watched the waters until sleep took him.
The next morning beside the cold ashes of the fire he cursed his stupidity, but only quietly so that no one could hear him.  He was sore and stiff from sleeping on the stony shore.  What was worse, the table and food from yesterday were gone and there were no fish to be found in the water.  Everything was oddly silent and a thick fog hung over the lake.  
Resigning himself to no breakfast and a dreary day, Ballek continued north toward where the maiden had told him a hunting camp could be found.  He wished for sun, for the fog to lift, and for something to eat.  It was at this last wish that he noticed a change in the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.  He looked to the loch but could see no more than a few yards due to the fog.  A chill that was more than the bleak cold of morning grew in him.  There was something in the lake and it was close and large.  
Ballek thought to head further into land when he noticed that the banks of the loch had grown into steep cliffs.  The climb would be perilous and returning south pointless.  Ballek had no choice but to continue north along the shore. The beach grew more and more narrow, until he found himself walking in shallow water with one hand braced on the cliff wall.  The water made strange sucking sounds as the gentle waves lapped at his ankles.  He had almost resigned himself to death when he saw a group of men far ahead on the shore.  They were casting nets into the water and he cried out to them.  As he did, there was a mighty splash behind him. Without thought, Ballek raced ahead as if pursued by a demon.
The men were nobles from the hunting camp.  The welcomed the lost wanderer and offered him food and drink. It was only after he was safe and warm that they mentioned the giant shadowy shape that had loomed behind him in the fog. He had been within striking distance of a beastie that they called Cryssy after the name of the loch. Ballek thanked the gods for their blessings as he sat warm, happy and well fed for the first time in months.  That is until the Usurer from Hobbs End joined him at the meal.  Later that day he danced on air watching the sun dip low beyond the mountains, as he was hung to death for his indiscretions.  Some say that they heard a woman crying somewhere off shore as his body hung limp in the breeze.
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