Random Legends of Mabinogi

Vyenne wrote:Feels good man.

Shadow Wizard: You expect to defeat me with that toy? Hahaha

Nightdragon: ARE YOU PLAYING DEAD!?

Shadow Wizard: Maybe...

Spoiler:

a fireball crystal

Spoiler:

leala wrote:^ LOL oh boy this is fun so to add to it-i'll give the best story 200 k

Spoiler:

Once there was a beautiful (and magical) garden in Connous, for all who came to see it's glory. One day however, a greedy noble elf came upon this land, and decided to claim it for his own. Not letting anyone but him and his companions to gaze upon the garden.
After awhile, the garden began to rot, and dark smoke spewed from the decay. The noble elf, disgusted by the sight, decided to burn down whatever was left of the garden.
When the flames began however, so did the garden's magic. Dark shadows blazed from within the fire and latched onto the noble elf, who fought back with all of his might.
Alas, the magic was too powerful, and dragged him into darkness. The garden then burst into a shiny light, and nothing was left but rocks, and a cave where the dark smoke came from.
At night, Ghosts of the Underworld come out and play, and all chant the name of that noble elf, Metus.

Spoiler:

A long time ago, before the clan of giants was established and before Vales became a town, there was only a small tribe of giants. Gentle, loving and protective of one another, they were always in harmony. They were nomadic people, always moving out and looking for a land to call home. Whilst enduring the hard blizzards of the untamed land of Physis, they were told by another nomadic tribe of such a place. Guarded by high cliffs, said to an island at one point. They looked, and looked; following animals migrating to safe land during ice storms, using there hunter tracking skills to the fullest, trusting there instinct. Eventually they arrived up on the steppes north of what we know as the "fruit bearing tree mark." The chief was worried for his people, who have never known the unkind edges and harsh hikes require to surpass such terrain.

"Stop!" shouted the chief, his beard glittering with crystals of his breath. He soon convinced his people of the dangers ahead, and they spent the night at the base of the flat, lifeless snow. He called forth the high priest of the clan and other elders to discuss what to do. They came up with a solution, he and a group of well trained men would go to scout ahead and see If there was an alternative route. At dawn, he said, they will trek on dangerous grounds.

"Okay, everyone mount up, make sure all your supplies are properly attached to your mounts.." The chief gave orders and instructed everyone to double check what was already secure. As they headed for the steppes his young, vibrant daughter ran up to him.

"When you will you back father!?" She yelled running, watching the morning sun illuminating her soft, peachy cheeks. The chief simply waved and rode off with the rest. She stood there, watching their shadows fade away into the bleak, white horizon. After 3 days of exploring, his men begun to tire and soon they were packing up to return. On the way back, one of his men collapsed, and fell off the mount. They soon rushed back to help, but they the man's body was frozen completely; of course this was fissable in the harsh winters of Physis, but It would take at least 3 hours for such frost. They quickly reached for there axes, suspecting murder, and stood back to back. Nothing happened, and they wondered how this could have occurred. Soon, a conclusion was reached by the Chief, declaring magic as a weapon here. Little was known about such "trickery", but they are aware of it's existence. No one in the group could be responsible, no one knows magic, other than few, even then it was only healing. They buried the body and prepared to continue there journey home, with frozen tears of a fallen comrade littering there burly, hairy faces. Then:

"Gharrglb, gharrg...." they all froze, solid; everyone slow reaching for their weapons. They tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, it seemed to becoming in every direction. They saw something dash by, and heading in the opposite direction they headed for the in first place. One of the more skilled giants, a young boy with a thin stature, picked up his atlatl and aimed carefully. Soon the sound of a whistling spear and then, crack! It was a direct hit, and they ran to see the corpse. It was there fallen comrade, still smiling and his back, body all fractured beyond recognition. Eweca was already filling the air with the scent of mana, a most detestable scent by giants. They set up camp and wondered what happened here. In the morning, they awoke to the sound of whistling. Running out of there tents, half nude, half awake and fully prepared for battle, they stood, awing at it's structure; a frozen cave, with ancient scripture on the entrance. They walked inside, It was so beautiful that, the water it self, smelled of the rich spring flowers that bloomed rarely in the cold, brief summers of Physis. The chief was more concerned at how this appeared. They ventured in, not knowing the dangers of Par. They soon arrived at a room completely saturated in glittering, clear ice. They heard noises from behind, and quickly turned around. They stared at the darkness, unexpectedly a javelin flew out of it, hitting one of the men, and then another, then another until the chief was the only one standing. The chief, enraged, soon used the forbidden technique; Daemon of Physis. A skill so powerful, It was only taught to high ranking individuals, rarely did they ever use such power in there lifetime. He ran into the darkness, screaming the name of his fallen men, and was met by the same young man who hunted down the frozen beast. He turned around, smiling, but by then the chief was already charging at full speed. The force was so extreme, the young man fell quickly on to the ground. He opened his eyes, coughing up blood to look and see the chief raising his axe. He swung down, in full force, screaming as loud as possible. The axe hit right between the eyes, and the chief stared. No blood? He thought, he soon backed up quickly. The body was melting, and quickly reduced into a puddle. Then did the puddle dash between his feet, retreating back into the frozen hell, where his men breathed there last breaths. He ran after it, and stood at it's entrance in disbelief. No blood, no corpses, no sign of struggle at all! He walked in, carefully examining the area. Then he heard laughter, and a young beautiful girl was in one of the mirrors. He stared, and asked.

"Who are you? Did you kill my men?!" He shouted, veins appearing on his skin, purpled by rage. She simply smiled and began to play a flute. The chief blinked, and the girl was the gone. His body felt limp, he soon dropped his axe and fell to his knees. He looked down at he ground, wondering what was happening. He looked up, to see a girl in a elegant, short dress.

"You!!" He shouted "You killed my men, you ***!" He stared into her cold, lifeless eyes. She simply reached over and kissed his forehead. Slowly, she pulled back and looked into his eyes. He spat in her face, and continued cursing. The girl, twitched, and raised up her hand. It was morphed into a giant Ice spike, and he grabbed his chin and made him look at her.

"Your the one who brought this upon yourself and your men, wondering into my terrain." She said, in a wispy voice. He stared, in at her, only getting angrier.

"You claim no such land! Nothing is yours!!" she quickly stabbed him in the abdomen. He winced in pain, but began to laugh. He put one foot out, and then began to shake violently. The young girl, horrified, backed up slowly. He slowly lifted his body, and stuck his other foot out. He was on his two feet, and began to walk slowly to the girl. He soon fell to his knees again, right as he reached for her. She grabbed him by his hair and pushed him back. He fell to the ground with a thud. She sat on his chest, and began to slowly stab into his heart.

"I have a deal for you.." she stabbed deeper to make him more aware, "I won't kill your tribe If you stay here, and be my slave." The chief, feared for his people, his daughter...

"Why me?" he asked in a raspy voice, spewing blood into the cold air. She began to smile, titled her head back and laughed.

"The state your in, Is all I need." She raised up her hand, reciting a old incantation. The chief, scared, but relieved to be secured of his people's safety, began to cry tears of joy. She then froze him, in a form inconceivable by magic. He will life on, in the same state he was frozen, beckoning to every note and melody played on her flute. The chiefs name was Wyendrigus, but she simply referred to him as, "Wendigo." His people soon concurred the terrain, and reached the top to a small basin. Wild game, protection from the hellish northern winds, it was the land they wanted desperately. The daughter of the chief, soon took charge of the town and married into nobility. She is now Kirine, and Is always on the northern edge of the town, facing the sun. She looks out every morning, feeling her father's warm embrace as the sun touches her skin.

Vyenne wrote:Thanks

Yours made so much sense!! I was like, my mind is full of Metus!