Fantasy stories from whatever genre my mind feels like working in.
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Hiya!
Welcome to Leloni Tabbyra’s Peculiar Fables.
Bizarre realms of fanciful fiction fill my mind. So I’m capturing them into text told tales. May they entertain the wider web world.
My stories may be accessed through the drop-down menu below the page banner. You may also choose to click the titles below to navigate my various tales.
Folks; as you become absorbed by our holiday season, please keep in mind this ultra important PSA….
“Do NOT let a woolly Leptoceratops eat the Christmas tree!”
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Believe it or else; Leptoceratops (‘slender’ horn face) was no taller than a modern sheep (Though, they did have just a “few” more centimeters in length.)! They liked to browse on plants like ferns and conifers. Which is why a Christmas tree would appeal to their appetite – especially one covered in so many ornamental highlights such as; a stocking-hat kitty; a sugarplum mammoth; a pink lamb snoozing on a zebra striped stocking and a gingerbread stegosaurus just to name a few.
—–
Photograph of my drawing because no scanner. Sorry!
After watching all thirteen episodes of 1976’s “Monster Squad”, I can type two things about it….
Firstly; I rather enjoyed most of it. The episodes have a lot of good-natured fun with moderate amounts of slapstick and goofiness. And I really appreciate when a show knows how to comedy without hindering a story’s continuation. Our heroes are all likeable both as individual characters with distinctive personalities while also having good chemistry as a team.
Plus, I appreciate how many of the villains are given some outlandish hues in their costumes and sets while the Monster Squad’s set has more grounded color palettes; even Walt’s (Fred Grandy) gold (mustard-hued?) letterman jacket seems more muted than most of the villains. Best of all; each episode has a different opponent. They aren’t “unique” gimmicks but at least the series put in the effort to have a variety of foes unlike SOME franchises which oversaturate one or two characters of a rogues’ gallery while marginalizing or forgetting the rest.
Secondly; I… think that I can see why it didn’t get past an initial run. Spouting goodyisms like “I’ve underestimated this hero youth who drinks milk; eats fresh vegetables and attends baseball games with the YMCA (unsure of word)” (Ep03 – The Tickler) is more talking down to kids than it is humorous. Especially in times like the mid-1970s, children don’t want – or deserve – to be treated that way.
In that same vein, while I found Dracula (Henry Polic II) likeable, every other incarnation of Dracula that I’ve seen and his parodies (like Grandpa Munster) are intelligent, strategic, leader type characters. This iteration of Dracula is easily swayed into tasks by flattery and spends all but a few of the episodes being little above Frank N. Stein (Michael Lane) in competence while the calm, cognitive role is given to the Wolfman, “Bruce W. Wolf” (Buck Kartalian). Even he is highly dependent upon a nerdy college kid’s guidance.
Just in case anyone looked forward to watching their favorite monsters perform grand “climactic fight scenes” a la Batman ’66 or Xena; Warrior Princess – don’t. The “choreographed clobberfests” are little more than a shoving match with pillows, balloons and – I kid you not – “invisible swords”! Probably not the type of qualities that kids want or expect from their admired classic monster characters.
The show might’ve had more success if it used lesser regarded monsters – like Gillman – or created original characters rather than relying on icon recognition.
If you’re into campy shows about crook-combatting creatures or just want something fun to enjoy without all the bogged down “layers” of today’s…. insert-your-own-descriptive-word-choices-here… media offerings, I’d definitely recommend giving this series a view or two.
In some effort to stir the creative juices, I decided to turn to one thing known for its encouragement of creative play – Lego! As my first foray, I’ve picked up a couple of Classic Lego sets.
Well, these sets come with some projects in mind. As such, the bricks included are geared towards their build and don’t offer as much of one certain size or hued brick for “free play”. But y’know what? I did it anyways!
And now… some minifigure fun (Minifigures are sold separately from the sets.) A scenario I call, “Milligned Surprises“
Adventuring party members and dragon alike looked around for the voice’s source. Gylamoo suddenly pointed at a hole near the cave’s roof off to the far side of the hills of hoardery. All eyes turned towards that far wall. Some rocks slid down the wall, indicating how the sharp-eyed mage had noticed the entryway.
A teal rose leapt from the cavernous shadows and swiftly… plummeted down the side of the rockface. Petals of this “falling rose” flared out, revealing its fabric cape reality. That cape was attached to an intricately wrapped hood which concealed the approaching shape. Though the landing of the form beneath the hood proved them as being far less delicate than any flower. As the teal hooded stranger stood up, they appeared to be about half as tall as Tauresa herself.
“Reviled villains!” a feminine tone scolded through the teal hood. “Such treasury treachery deserves punishment, not payment! Forgiveness will be as ungivable as your remembrance!”
Her denunciatory declaration ended in a finger pointing gesture that flooshed the newcomer’s cape outwards, revealing a rotund form modestly styled by adventuring attire. Bronze hugged her torso in tunic form while seafoam-soft sleeves ballooned over her arms from shoulder seams down to her gloves. A pair of shadow-blue leggings tucked their ankle edges into a pair of boots.
Everyone stared at this strangely unidentified new entry into their battle field. Silver intensity shaped the angry pair of eyes which glared back at them within the hood’s light defying secrecy.
“Villains?!” repeated Alisteer. “We’re the good guys!”
“Since when does ganging up on a single creature make anyone ‘good guys’?” This maiden stranger tapped her boot’s toe.
But the paladin didn’t back down. “Since that ‘single beast’ keeps eating our herds.”
Query-rich silvery-eyes peered through the teal rose shaped hood at Alisteer. “Your ‘herds’?”
In response, Gylamoo pulled back his hood. Light-fluffed strands of fuzz poofed about freely in their sudden freedom from hooded hold. Many caramel tan strands brushed across the similarly colored forehead of a vial-shaped head and settled into place around two hairy trowel sized ears. Beneath the flufftop, a widely set pair of mystery-gray hued eyes allowed an extending snout between them to make a smooth incline into a flat square which gave a duo of nostrils barely enough respect for each other’s personal space. Squarely underneath it, a fluffy mustache drooped itself over bovine lips and a shaggy bit of chin fluff to complete that aged burdon known as “years of living”.
Where dragon-faced scales proved surprisingly expressive, the teal hood merely flourished forward as the stranger drew back. Her gloved hand positioned to cover a hood-hidden mouth that betrayed a less than warrior-like gasp of surprise. “Cow folk!”
Following their mage’s revelation, the armored trio opened their helmets’ face visors. Like Gylamoo, their faces bore bovine features of squarish noses ascending into thinly-fuzzed snouts and heads – the heads of two more bulls and a heifer, respectively.
Each helmet’s horns, so easily mistaken as decorative headgear, in fact stuck through each Lazjecizaran’s helmet instead of being connections on them. Well, not quite “every” one; only remnant stumps in places meant for horns had survived Gylamoo’s life journey into today with him.
“Uhhh Curt.” The mentioned mage’s tone halted the bard’s pen strokes. Curtis looked up as the magely bull continued, “Our bovine appearance was obvious when we met with you about this job. Why are you writing it now like some ‘big surprise’ revelation?”
“Narrative reasons,” Curtis replied under an eye-rolling sigh. The amount of blank stares upon the bard forced further explanation. “Readers want cool action first. They’ll be more willing to accept ‘cattle’ as their cool action heroes after that.”
“Ohhhhh.” four voices chorused in nodded understanding.
“Too bad these ‘heroes’ are all just BAD COWS!” snarled a fifth voice.
Not to be left out, a dragonious sixth voice gave a low throaty growl.
“We’re Lazjecizarans; thank you very much!” Alisteer snapped. “And once the tale of our deeds gets around, our herds will never be cattle fodder again!”
Now, the teal hood turned towards the dragon. “Have you… been eating talking cows?”
Three irked voices snapped a correction. “Lazjecizarans.”
A grunted “Unh-unh” came through in the dragon’s sincere head shake response.
“ALL bovine herds are Lazjecizarans!” scolded Alisteer, firmly. His confidence loosened a bit as he added, “At least… They will be once we reclaim Lazjecizar’s lost spell.”
“Reclaim that old wizard’s spell? You… want everyone to make butlers of their beef?”
“What? No! Not that part,” the paladin scowled. “I mean the part where our ancestors rose intellectually to become the equal of humans. And once we rediscover the wizard Lazjecizar’s lost ancient technique, we won’t be fenced in by fickle hopes for calves to be born with the gift of mind. The cattle of every land will finally rise from the dinner plate to take their place in society as the citizens that they were meant to be.”
Already angry silvery eyes narrowed narrowly within that face-hiding abyss of a rose-formed headpiece as the concealed maiden crossed her arms. “Aaannnnd…. That has what to do with why you’re trying to kill this dragon?”
“Our casting elders were a casualty of the Lands Down Disaster. All of Lazjecizar’s knowledge orbs shattered under the tons of land suddenly being smashed together,” answered Gylamoo.
Neither the hood-hidden maiden’s stance nor her tone offered any sympathy to the group. “So go, y’know, dig up the area to find the shards. My grandma always gripes about all her knolyspheres that she has to piece back together every time she baby-sits for a family member. Admittedly, not a fun shard puzzle to work on. But doable.”
“Who says that we aren’t?” snorted Tauresa.
“Excavation in three hundred year-old depths does require expense coverage. You know!” Gylamoo added.
“And lemme guess… You’re going to use this hoard to fund that research?”
Alisteer’s hesitation to respond only made his expression all the more of his apparent answer. But Bullkowski just shrugged and said it for him. “Grants come from somewhere.”
Some growled snorts sounded the dragon’s opinion of their “grants”.
“I agree,” noted the unnamed figure in rose-shaped teal.
But the heavy-hoofed paladin stood firm. “He stole our herds’ lives. It only seems fair that he ‘repay’ his crimes.”
“Seems even fairer to just take your little ‘steak knives’ and go home!” replied the maiden stranger.
Four of the five group members instantly shuddered.
Tightly toned by a grit-toothed cringe, Alisteer scolded, “Don’t EVER use the word ‘steak’ around a Lazjecizaran!”
In place of more words, the teal-disguised maiden stretched her arm outward in front of herself and opened her hand. A small light formed in her glove-covered palm. Its roundish shape quickly morphed into a long pole. The top half expanded outwards. Jagged edges along its surface formed into spikes. As the light dulled a bit, the stranger-under-teal clenched her fist around her newly created weapon. However, instead of being a perfectly round ball of spikes, the implement looked a little… deflated.
Amused glances passed among the Lazjecizaran herd. Then they burst out laughing at the teal-rose stranger.
“What – kind – of ‘twirl stick’ is THAT?” giggled Tauresa.
Ridicule hit that hood of teal where light could not. “It’s a mace.”
Louder laughs rumbled through the cavern.
“Ugh! I’m ‘still’ working on it. Okay!”
Even as the others laughed, Bullkowski unsheathed his – very metallicaly real – sword. He snorted and began advancing towards the stranger hidden in teal. “How ’bout I show you what a ‘real weapon’ is.”
Oddly enough, the figure in hooded teal didn’t back away. Instead, she thrust her energy mace in front of her; prepared to do battle with the austeer knight.
“I’d prefer that you not call me that.”
Yet again, Curtis’ chronicling concentration fell away from his scroll. “What?”
Bullkowski stared at the bard. “Please don’t write of me in ‘steer’ terms You can leave those for ‘took a new name in his devotion’ over there.”
The pointed at paladin’s reply came without hesitation. “The Paladin Alisteer, Bovine Defender of the Ungulate, has no regrets in my oath to our cause.”
Snorting a scowl, Bullkowski turned back to his intended foe and swung his blade. It clanged against the maiden stranger’s energy-mace handle. The impact reverberated through Bullkowski’s arm. Though the unexpected sensation showed in his stout-snouted features, his hilt grip remained firm.
Each opposite opponent struggled to oppose the other’s onslaught.
Through strain-dripped efforts, the fabric-disguised maiden managed to snark, “Just cause it looOOOks funny, DOESn’t mean it’s nooOOOT FUNctionAL!”
“FUNction ain’t NOTHIN’ less ya’ve GOT the skIlls to USE it, gIRLie!” Bullkowski taunted right back.
Lightly adjusting his grip, the knightly bull allowed his weapon to fall back. As the fabricly concealed stranger pressed forward, Bullkowski’s sudden wrist thrust unbalanced her stance, knocking her backwards. She fell, almost automatically rolling away from Bullkowski’s advancing strike.
He grinned. “Hmm, you’ve had some training.”
“Aheh; it’s a family thing.”
While her beefy foe picked up his sword, this family-trained stranger under teal stumbled to her feet.
She swung back into Bullkowski’s next strike. And the two clashed again. Each pulled back and set another swing. Although a creation of will formed as light, the ill-made mace proved solid enough to make the ore-based metals in Bullkowski’s sword ring as it both accepted and dealt clittering strikes with every bit of battling force that any weapon wielder would wrest.
Though the teal-hooded stranger could match Bullkowski’s strikes, she couldn’t outmuscle his heftier swings. She leapt back as he swung around. Something unseen on the cavern floor sent her boots sliding. Her stumbling thwarted any chance of striking at Bullkowski’s assailable armored arms. She kicked some stray coins out of her way as the knight recovered in time to trade strikes again. As long as Bullkowski lashed out in quick and short bursts, the duelers remained unable to bruise each other. In this way, the combatants moved around the dirt-layered area. Their feet slipped on or sidestepped an increasing number of coins which kept mysteriously rolling into their paths.
If the exertion of fending off a weightier opponent’s blows wasn’t enough, the maiden under teal suddenly felt a sensation of another entry into the fray. Her rose-edged hood managed a quick turn aside to glimpse Curtis waving his quill-shaped pen in the air as he walked around the two fighters.
Another swing from Bullkowski’s sword met the strangely disguised maiden’s mace. As they struggled, the stranger in hooded teal asked, “Uuhhh… Iii-is tha-yaat guy – er – uurrgghh! Okaaayy?”
“Perfectly fine,” Curtis answered for himself despite not being the one asked. He pointed his quill-inspired ink pen towards the maiden stranger’s footwear. “S’cuse me; are those ‘leather’ boots that you’re wearing?”
Group-wide gazes glanced towards the bard. From the pen’s unpointed side, Curt patiently peered over his large scroll roll while his right hand tapped on the paper’s edge. Considering the fabric-shadowed maiden’s own minuscule size, finding a grown human suddenly crouched right near her showed its off-putting nature in her abrupt leap a few steps away from him.
Attention shifted from Curtis to the hood-hidden maiden’s boots and back again. Faced by questioning stares, he added, “I only ask for detailed posterity.”
His sheepish grin didn’t wait long to receive an answer.
“Why, yes. Genuine cow hide fresh off the cobbler’s- uh… oh…”
Sour scowls raged into goring glares across each Lazjecizaran’s cowntenance.
Sliding a further step backwards, the teal-concealed stranger raised her hands in a non-threatening apology. “They’re really comfy and… are usually sturdy enough for a… few years… or… so?”
Similarly, Alisteer raised his own hands – to point his sword blade. “Right! New plan; we kill this cow murderer and give those poor sacrificed innocents a proper burial ceremony later.”
Multi-voiced agreement rattled the rock-made walls around the group.
No sooner did the echo begin to fade than the light mace swung at Curtis.
An uncomfortably thin length of steel blocked the would-be puncturing. Yet, it proved effective enough as a shield over Curtis’ head. Bullkowski glowered at the hood-disguised stranger. “Do you have ANY idea how difficult it was to find a decent bard who could tell our story WITHOUT constantly milking those dumb ‘udder’ jokes every two lines?”
Blinks gleamed through the lightlessness of the stranger’s rose-styled fabric. “There… really is such a someone?”
Curtis tentatively waved from beneath the shaking sharply pointed points. “Uh yeah! Hello, miracle storyteller right here – getting defensive crouching cramps.”
Mumbles of “Oh, sorry,” were given as Bullkowski and the teal-hooded maiden parted weapons and each stepped aside.
As the bard scrambled back towards paladin protection, the weapon wielders wound into action again.
Alisteer’s still weapon-readied threat dropped with the sight of Gylamoo suddenly flailing across the cavern floor in front of him. Coins slipped through his hands along the flight, offering a revelation for the mysterious monetary movement on the fighting floor. A quick glance at the dragon showed its outstretched tail as the source of such a large scale disciplinary action.
These distractions opened an opportunity which Tauresa eagerly stepped towards. She lifted her blade, preparing to strike at the teal-hooded maiden’s occupied form. Then Alisteer’s hand clamped on her shoulder. She glanced at the paladin only for him to shake his head. Tauresa’s expression asked her unvoiced question.
“Bullkowski would never forgive us if we interfered in his ego,” Alisteer explained.
Words forming on the heifer warrior’s lips swiftly disappeared as she instead seized Alisteer and Curtis by their cloak straps! Even as their shocked mouths dropped open, the heifer hefted her haul up high. Then Tauresa leaped into the air, somehow managing an impressive distance of several steps. As she landed, Alisteer and Curtis also felt their feet touch the ground. Something large thudded against the dirt behind them.
All three turned back to see a draconian foot in the place where they’d just been standing.
Disappointment snorted through the dragon’s miffed expression.
Tauresa placed her hands on her hips as she glared up at the dragon. “Now that’s just dirty cud-spit.”
The dragon simply scoffed a snarl.
Ever a professional penner, Curtis barely allowed himself a breath before turning back to the duelers. The disguised maiden couldn’t block in time and Bullkowski’s sword clipped her glove. A sharp yelp and an eye-shutting burst of light instantly stopped the fight. When the scene saw sight again, the maiden under teal flicked her hand as if shaking out pain. Her mace had disappeared. She quickly stepped back to reform it while Bullkowski rubbed some sense back into his eyes.
Small shimmers through the rip on the maiden stranger’s glove fingers caught Gylamoo’s own keen eye as Bullkowski rushed at her again.
“Hold on…” He pointed towards her weapon hand. “Is that – Is that an energy’s will focus ring?”
Perhaps it was due to being in a pushing match with Bullkowski but the unnamed figure hesitated to answer. Gylamoo’s features curled crossly. “You mean to tell me that we’re just dealing with some ‘apprentice’ witch?”
“I’m a ‘hobyuphaun’, thank you very much,” scowled the rose-shaped teal-hood.
“But you’re still an apprentice,” insisted Gylamoo.
“Well…” This “hobyuphaun” stranger shuffled her feet. “Everyone has to go through the training phase. That’s just basic reality.”
Crossness deepened into pure rage. The mage began to light up a spell. “Allow a ‘real’ magic master to introduce you to the ‘reality’ of interfering with a mage’s work.”
He let his spell fly, forcing both the teal-hooded hobyuphaun and the knight to dodge out of the blast’s way.
Bullkowski glared at his teammate. “Gylamoo…”
But the rebuke went unanswered as Gylamoo took fresh aim at the “apprentice” stranger.
“Oohhh croak!” The maiden hobyuphaun waved her weapon hand to clear the mace. In its place appeared a ping-pong paddle. Gylamoo’s next blast towards her got smacked like a ball. It slapped the ground and discharged itself in a small dust scattering explosion. Another shot received another paddleback. This time, it bombed a little too close to Curtis’ feet for his liking.
“Hey!” His cry punctuated the finger stinging that the not-so-harmless energy sparks caused. Still, he quickly checked over his scroll to be sure that it hadn’t been ignited by the sparks. But this blasting battle blazed beyond him as Gylamoo sent more bursts towards the stranger. Each one got swatted away as the hood-hidden foe continued to maneuver around.
“Will you STOP playing games already!” demanded Gylamoo.
“What’s the matter, ‘Master’?” The fabric-shadowed hobyuphaun waved her paddle back and forth. “Wasn’t your first energy weapon a paddle?”
Flickers of energy brightened Gylamoo’s spell before he spat the, now larger, blast. “Certainly not! I spent my time ‘properly’ training my OWN focus.”
Which still received a swerve and a swing. “Then you obviously didn’t have ‘brothers’!” The disguised hobyuphaun smacked the energy blast with a solid hit. Its thwack echoed across the cavern and suddenly mixed with a metallic clanking clash. Bullkowski hadn’t quite moved in time and took the brunt of the blast in Curtis’ place.
Unintended as it was, it only put a brief pause in Gylamoo’s attack. His bullish face offered a sheepish apology. “Erp sorry!” Fresh resolve hardened his expression. “I’ll make it up to you later!”
His next blast plunked against the wall and rocked the area.
“Ggrrrrrraaaww!” gnarled the dragon as the shaking dropped a few ceiling bits upon it. Only suffering a slight headache left the beast still conscious. The same could not be said of Curtis who’d also taken a rock onto his noggin. He hit the dirt and lay sprawled on the ground.
Thus, the rest of the tale is a professionally post-pieced account recounting this encounter.
Ricocheting rocks roused little more than a chortled snort from the heifer warrior. She seemed to take the puny pings as an endurance challenge. So Gylamoo’s arrogant spells obliged her with a bludgeon by an even larger ceiling chunk. The blow jammed her helmet down upon her head, slicing into her horns. It both covered her eyes and pinned her ears against her head.
Tauresa grabbed at her helmet, trying to remove its pinning pinch. A few pebble strikes rang across the helmet’s metallic surface. Gong-thick waves rattled her skull. She frantically yanked and pulled at the not-so-protective headpiece. Despite the soundly pressure, it refused to budge. Suddenly, she gave a screech and passed out! Hollow echoes continued to slowly dull themselves away through her helmet.
A greater power suddenly blasted Gylamoo off his feet as Alisteer tackled him.
“What is WRONG with you?” Alisteer demanded as Gylamoo’s incredulous expression peered up at him. “What part of ‘firing wildly isn’t working’ escaped your notice?”
“I did not spend YEARS mastering my skills only for some ‘novice’ to-“
“Well, apparently you lost the art of ‘common sense’ in the process, Gylamoo!” Alisteer snapped. “Obviously this weirdo has had some defensive training. And if your preciously honed ‘skill mastery’ doesn’t include thinking on your feet then you may as well work on an assembly line for all the bravado your ego does.”
Gylamoo’s mouth gaped. He wanted to speak but his mind offered no words to argue with.
Growl-laced Inhaling breath warned the duo’s ears. They looked up just in time to get a full-on incinerating fiery flare. There wasn’t even a scream’s notice as the blaze engulfed them.
Once its blast expended, the dragon allowed itself a snoutly set smirk. But that self-indulgence immediately fell short in the sight of both Alisteer and Gylamoo still very much alive. Their unfried forms stood safely shielded behind an energized barrier cast by Gylamoo’s hands. They peered out through the protective dome.
Even as their lungs exhaled in tense breaths, Alisteer cringed in preparation for whatever snide remark Gylamoo would inevitably make. Something in his mind made a snap decision to thwart that comment with one of his own.
Alisteer turned to Gylamoo. And any wit died on his tongue. What response could answer such a calmly expressed knowing quietness of a skilled master’s smile?
Suddenly, the light around the two teammates dimmed. Both blinked as they turned their gaze upwards.
To their confusion, a blanket now lay across their dome of protective energy. Though it obstructed their view of the dragon, this little blanket hardly seemed like any real threat. Both Lazjecizarans chuckled while Alisteer drew his blade again. He readied to slice the simple fabric away once Gylamoo released the shield.
Some shiver-stoking snarling froze that plan cold. The dragon sounded far too close for comfort. Being unable to see its movements left the bovines vulnerable to attack if Gylamoo let his spell go. Could they both remove the blanket and recast the barrier in time to avoid being fried?
Humiliation replaced horror as each bull realized that a mere ordinary, simple, mundane piece of loomwork meant for bodily comfort had just confined them in a stalemate situation of flame and death.
Now that the Lazjecizaran herd lay defeated all around, the mysterious rose-shaped hood glanced towards the dragon. After witnessing this single combatant wipe their cave floor, the dragon wasn’t sure what to expect next. They raised a wary eyebrow as their muscles prepared for a new fight.
As her form turned to face the dragon, the stranger pulled back her hood. Two antlers, densely laden with bush-like points, became visible. The stranger’s face looked far upwards into the dragon’s own. A singularly raised eyebrow was joined by the other eyebrow and both widely opened eyes as the dragon stared down at the revealed face of a hobyuphaun!
Tassel-shaped ears dangled down the sides of her green hued head, lightly bumping against the edges of her chin as they wafted back and forth. A few strands of hair lay across the forehead of this square-faced being. Silvery affection shined through two wide-irised eyes while an endearing smile minimized the pinched snout existing between eyes and mouth. Puffy cheeks rounded out the hobyuphaun maiden’s features.
“Mister Dragon,” she addressed the dragon sweetly. “Will you…”
Wary interest flickered in those reptilian eyes as they blinked at her. “Hm?”
“Will you – be my pet? Pretty, pretty please!”
The dragon’s stunned form hit the floor before their own jaw even had time to drop!
Angora spittle sagged from the sizable fangs in the roof of a cave’s mouth, threatening the armor comfort of each battle participant….
“Stalagmites.”
“…What?”
“They’re called ‘stalagmites’, Curt.”
An expressive perplexion filled the face of a man named Curtis Abarden as he glanced away from his descriptive scripting. Between blinks, his ironically non-curt-looking hazel-hued gaze expressed that spice-racked emotion simply known as; “Huh?”
Links of metal in the least liked hues of licorice-thickness layered mail-laid protection over a well-toned torso in front of Curtis. So he directed his inquiring eyeline to a higher place.
Two impressively sized bull horns spiked out near the top of a towering bucket of a knight’s helmet. Its lengthy front covering sloped outwards like a pouring spout of face plate shielding. Naturally, the helmet’s expression remained blankly iron-clad.
Curtis’ onset of confusion sparked another flicker of inquiry. “Hey, wait a sec… wasn’t Gylamoo playing bodyguard?”
Little more than a soft “clinkening” audibly answered as the black armored form pointed a gloved finger towards a far corner of the cavernous space. Curtis’ gaze followed the finger’s direction.
Over near the opposite wall, a cloaked figure leaned over another, more lightly armored, form sitting on the ground. The armored one struggled to stay still while her injured leg received treatment. Light pulsed through magical fingers as the cloaked figure worked some spell on the leg’s fracture.
Any hint of pain portrayed on this warrior maiden’s face stayed secreted beneath a helmet’s silvery sheen. Her torso-hugging chain tunic did not offer such courtesy to the warrior’s body whose gestures made every tingle of pain clear. From the gauntlet-length gloves clutching at the dirt to the fabric protection along the wincing warrior’s arms and legs and extending into her footwear, one theme embodied them all; green. While not a green to be found singing in a swamp, the fabric hosted an easy green which played well with the rest of the team.
The cloaked one’s hovering form hovered over the wounded warrior’s leg in well-robed, flowing fabrics of sage-green… well… robes. Patterns wove around each of the robe’s edges from the hood, along the sleeve openings and even the skirt bottom in symbolic shapes said to resist the flames of any foe; or so the mage wearing them tells this tale’s teller. That fabric being made of a fire resistant material most likely aided its symbolism as well.
Finally, the warrior maiden’s tense posture relaxed and a heavy breath pushed through her visor. The light faded from the figure’s fingers and he allowed her leg to move away.
She flexed it a few times to be sure that it was okay. Then she accepted the cloaked one’s help in standing up.
“Thanks! I was afraid I was done this time.”
His hood nodded. “Just… don’t try that little trick again. Dragons aren’t called ‘thick skulled’ simply for insult. You know.”
“Uhhh, right.”
“Could we maybe FOCUS, people!?”
Every headpiece wholeheadedly turned in the irritated speaker’s direction. Well-polished armor gleamed back at those heads as the covering of a fight-ready form of that most dedicated of knightly types, a protective paladin. Like the other two metal-coated participants, a pair of bull’s horns spread outwards from either side of the seemingly roundish headgear. Its face side edged into a cone’s point for its long brimmed visor. That face-hiding visor quickly glanced to his left. Giving a reflexive gasp, the armored warrior leapt out of the way of a sideways geyser of blown flame.
While still, the flames’ spitter might be mistaken as a statuesque inclusion among the mass of valuables spread across the cavern floor. Tawny-tan scales pulsed across each muscular movement on this currency coveting creature as a reminder of how very much alive that this dragon was.
Paladin puncturing teeth swung at their chance to chomp the champion. Despite those teeth not hailing from a long snout, their jaws were sizable enough to make single bite appetizers of any member of the quint-essential group.
Three tooth-hued bones curved back in a frill on each side of the beastly dragon’s head. More bones lined a spiny center line all along the length of the dragon’s spine, ending in a tri-bone fork just above its tailtip.
Brief sparks brightened a pile of embers near the place where the paladin’s armor-set boots clacked their grounded landing. Those remnants remained as the reminder of the previous clash’s results. Singed golden tatters of the embers’ once cloth shape still clung to cape clasps on the armor’s shoulders. Such scraps looked out of place on a suit which shone in metallic valiance.
Naturally, the others moved towards such qualities. Well, also for the reason that it was difficult to join in a fight while on the far side of a cave; save for the crafty mage, Gylamoo, whose magical skill could easily go the distance for his armored adventurer associates; the shining paladin, Alisteer; the hard-hided knight, Bullkowski; the “moo”tal warrior, Tauresa – and this scroll’s humble chronicling bard.
“Curt…” He felt a gloved grip on his shoulder. Curtis glanced up at the large knight. “Too much?”
“Moo-tal warrior. Really?”
Curtis frowned. “You’re a cattle themed adventuring party an-“
“Lazjecizaran herd themed, thank you,” came the firm response.
“Okay, okay, ‘Lass-jess-is-zar-ran themed’… but still,” his expression pleaded. “Just this one?”
Bullkowski’s horn-sided helmet stared blankly through a tense few clanks between Alisteer and the dragon.
“Oh, just give it to him,” Tauresa noted as she passed by to join the fight.
“Correct,” added Gylamoo as he stepped beside the duo. “We can make edits later when danger is less immediate.”
Heavily sighed breath blew through the helmet’s visor. Then Bullkowski readied his weapon “Fine, have it your way.”
Once more, they stood three strong against an excessively sized opponent! Alisteer instructed his team. “Spread out. The beast can’t watch all sides at once. At least ONE of us HAS to get through!”
Slapping heat suddenly pushed the warriors backwards as the dragon spat a line of flames across the cavern floor. The flames flared and grew until a flicker-thick wall stood between the fighters and their foe. Only its eyes gleamed through its protective fiery wall; as if daring the party to cross the light.
All three helmets peered one way and then to the other. But even an unmasked bard’s sight saw no waver within this wavy wall of fire.
Impatience burned itself across Tauresa’s stance. Her unsworded hand moved to her hip. “Weee-eeellll… now what, Alisteer?”
When no immediate answer spouted through the paladin’s visor, Bullkowski added his own scalding statement. “Never wanted to be around a branding iron. Don’t wanna be IN one either.”
Alisteer’s helmet continued to look about as if seeking the shine of a solution which the rest of the group couldn’t see.
As the bard’s pen poised to place a new line of words, his eye passed over a previously penned detail. “Hey, Gylamoo.” Curtis pointed at the sagely rune-rimmed robes. “Aren’t your robes ‘fire proof’. That means you can just walk through those flames. Right?”
“Uh – No, Curt. It doesn’t,” the sagely voice dripped in whatever tones an eyeroll might have if sight had sound-making abilities. “Fire ‘resistant’ does not give me the freedom to walk through fire. It just means that I won’t catch on fire as easily if I get close to it.
Although….” The hood turned towards Tauresa. Her faceless frontside faced him in kind. “Uhhh, Gylam–OOOHHH!”
Her form froze as the magic user sent a spell in her direction. It floated over as a small circle but instantly grew and enclosed the warrior maiden in a large bubble. She instinctively reached out to touch it.
“Don’t!” Gylamoo ordered. Tauresa stopped. “That shieldsphere should get you through the flames. It’ll disappear when you land. So ‘hit’ your landing appropriately.”
“Oh, okay…. Wait, ‘land’!?”
In a motion which his sage-stitched sleeves swept into greater impressiveness, Gylamoo said, “Gentlemen, if you will.”
With all of the likening of a plan pre-practiced, Alisteer and Bullkowski sheathed their blades. Each moved to either side of the bubble and carefully lifted Tauresa up. She managed to steady herself as, within a few swings for momentum, the others threw her into the firewall!
No sooner had she gone into the light than a mild “Poof!” sound pushed her back out again. The bubble popped as the armored maiden smashed into her teammates and knocked the trio across the cavern.
Scratchy sounds, resembling some smug chuckling, rumbled through the fire.
Crackles in the flames counted the movement of time as Curtis and Gylamoo watched the warrior heap. Finally, metal scraped along surfaces as each of the trio began to sit up: well, two of them anyways.
Gylamoo made his way over to the trio with Curtis following close behind.
“Are… you all right?” the mage asked.
Some grumbles of “Yeah” and “I think so” passed through their helmets as Tauresa and Bullkowski slowly got up. Behind them, Alisteer remained grounded in place.
Seeing them unhurt, Gylamoo turned his full attention to Tauresa. “What happened?”
“Ugh,” was the maiden’s first reply. As she readjusted her gear, Tauresa scowled, “Unbelievable is what happened. He just blew me away like… like I was just some dandelion or something! Lousy brimstone breathed beast.”
“Well, you might float like a dandelion but you sure don’t land like one,” muttered the big bull horned knight beside her.
Their leading member, who’d been silently lying behind them, let out a sound which sounded more like a frustrated bellow than a mere groan.
“That DOES IT!” growled the upstanding knight as he struggled to stand up. “You murderous, cowardly vexation! Face me properly!”
Like grasses in the wind, the flames suddenly parted and curled aside. As they fell into smoldering dust puffs, the dragon stepped forward; apparently accepting the paladin’s challenge.
Silence did not give answers. And only a further question from the paladin had the words to break it. “What? What’s happening?”
“Something that… you’ll really wanna see.” Tauresa moved to upright her fighting companion.
Up on his feet once more, his faceplate pointed into scale-surrounded scorn. “So, you have some honor after all.”
The challenged nodded in a throaty grunt.
“Fine then.” Alisteer accepted his sword from Bullkowski’s outstretched hands. He swung his blade towards the ceiling in a light-reflecting-off-steel arc. “Let’s finish this!”
Both paladin and dragon closed the distance between their charge, making the cave quiver with their battle cries. Just as they neared striking distance, something flashed and burst in their eyes! With surprised shrieks, each fell backwards. The dragon rubbed its face while Alisteer wiped his helmet.
“What – was – that?” gasped Tauresa.
Gylamoo walked up to his teammate and dabbed some of the moisture dripping down Alisteer’s visor. He sniffed at his, now soggy, finger.
“It’s… just plain water,” he declared.
Above them, the dragon shook its head. Something landed near the mage’s feet. He warily picked it up. Everyone staggered closer for a look at the object. Though not alive, an unsettling wriggliness moved the floppy material around as Gylamoo turned it over.
That fizzling feeling of recognition crept its way into each group member’s head with Alisteer being the first to give it voice. “Is that-“
“A waterskin?” Curtis finished the thought.
Vibrations of accusation echoed along the cavern walls. “Malicious scoundrels! Why must your kind always murder for your purse feed? If you can’t rob a dragon’s hoard like civilized thieves then you’ll have to face me!”
Mew, me, me, me, me
Mew, me, me, me, me
Mew, me, me, me, me
Mewwwhooooaaahooaahoohhhh
He played in the trash, tore up the toilet paper
Tried to pull some wires out of the radiator
He’s a teenage terror cat! (teenage terror cat!)
A teenage terror cat (teenage terror cat!)
He pooped on the floor, scratched at the door
And snapped at me when I told him NO MORE!
He’s a teenage terror cat! (teenage terror cat!)
Total little bitty kitty brat! (teenage terror cat!)
He’s never been a purely sweet little kitten
(Raw meeeooow raww)
But he nipped at my heart and now I’m smitten
I hope one day this badness will pass
(Raw mew raw)
But for now I’m resisting KICKING HIS ASS! (teenage terror cat)
He clawed on the curtains as soon as he could reach ’em
(Raaoow meeeooow raaaoow)
Ramsacked the cupboards as soon as he could breech ’em
(Raaoow meeeooow raaaoow)
He’s a teenage terror cat! (teenage terror cat!)
A teenage terror cat (teenage terror cat!)
Nothin’ seems to deter this kitty’s means to defy me
Such a frisky ball of furiosity!
He’s my teenage terror cat! (teenage terror cat!)
Total little bitty kitty brat! (teenage terror cat!)
He’s never been a purely sweet little kitten
(Raw meeeooow raww)
But he nipped at my heart and I’m so smitten
Since he’s made me his favorite napping spot
(Raw meow raw)
I think that – maybe? – he also likes me a lot (teenage terror cat)
Though less headache than the human family,
That little kitty just runs all over me
Cuz he’s my teenage terror cat! (teenage terror cat!)
Total little bitty kitty brat! (teenage terror cat!)
He’s never been a purely sweet little kitten
(Raw meeeooow raww)
But he nipped at my heart and I’m so smitten
He’s a bitey-fighty terrorizing kitty and he belongs to me
– just don’t tell him that I dared sing that!
About my teenage terror cat (teenage terror cat)
He’s never been a purely sweet little kitten
(Raw meeeooow raww)
But he nipped at my heart and I’m so smitten
With that teenage terror cat (teenage terror cat!)
My teenage terror cat (teenage terror cat)
(Meeyooowwooooohhhhh)
Teenage terror cat (teenage terror cat!)
(Meeyooowwooooohhhhh)
Teenage terror cat
(Meeyooowwowoooaaaoowww)
Written & recorded in May, 2021 (It’s taken this long to have the guts to post it!)
As a special punishm – I mean – ‘treat’, if you truly loathe your ears or just have a need to torture yourself then take a risk to listen to a banshee-voiced gorgon crone (me) caterwaul about her naughty teenaged kitty in a 1950s style of a cappella. (Just my voice…. singing multiple tracks together with no music or autotune. You have been warned!)
Well, after only a few years’ posting of this, it’s already time to admit it….
The creative stuff just isn’t working with this time-centric phrasing anymore. So, I’m afraid it’s the hour of ending for the run on this gimmick.
To all those who’ve enjoyed the daily postings; thank you greatly. I’ve appreciated the privilege of being allowed to offer you a smile.
To those who’ve just been quietly tolerant of my absurdity; thank you for putting up with me.
Perhaps another temporal cycle of greetings will come again. However, it’ll have to be someone far more imaginative than I (which wouldn’t take much.) For now – May you all gracefully age with existence rather than existence granulating ages into you.
For Jack Frost: I wish for you to receive some professional counseling to get help for whatever issues keep causing you to be a jerk for three or more months of the year.
For Frosty, Crystal and all of the other snow people: I wish for you to have a nice big blizzard and to remember to tell all of the snow fairies that you love them and appreciate them for everything they’ve done in making each of you into the snow person whom you are today.
For the Grinch: All that Whoville whoopla really is kinda noisy, isn’t it? I just wish you’d be nicer to Max. He’s a good doggy who deserves love and affection.
For all of the Whos down in Whoville: I wish you’d make Max the Dog your village’s honorary mayor so that everyone – including the Grinch – treats him with kindness and respect along with affection and giving lots of doggy treats!
For the yetiis: Not sure why you’re at the North Pole but I wish for you to get back home safely and maybe get to share with the world how nice and warm you can truly be.
For the Jingle Bells: As pretty as you sound, I wish you’d be quiet between the hours of one and six am. SOME entities like to sleep at night.
For the Reindeer: I wish…. Dasher: Obey all of the sky lights and no dashing through the red ones! Dancer: You can’t fly away from your problems nor can you just keep dancing around them Prancer: Be careful where you step; not every roof can take a pounding – or a prancing! Vixen: Directing everyone’s attention to where it needs to be is a frustrating job – but you can do it! Comet: You can still be bright without being so wishy-washy. Cupid: Being passionate is great but stay focused on what’s ahead of you tonight. Donner: Eat before you leave and only poop on all of the politicians’ rooftops (Given how swiftly that it’s been calculated for Santa to fly to get around the world, I wonder how much damage such expediently flying reindeers’ excrement might cause…. Have fun, math whizes!) Blitzen: Get sober, dude – it’s gonna be a looooooong night!
For the Elves: As the final cleanup for the season winds down, I wish for some gifts of s”elf” care to be in your stockings. Elfter all, you’ve earned it!
Mrs. Claus: During this time of year when events can leave one feeling invisible to others, please know you’re not forgotten. I wish for you to noel peace of mind because you’re being included among our holiday cheers too.
Santa Claus: I wish for you to have a safe journey tonight.
**********
Wishing all of you a Merry Christmas And thank you for reading!
As one fiber becomes the bonding strength for another, let our durableness wind together to lighten those heart-heavy ages for each other, Hanukkah’s warmths!
Leloni Tabbyra's Peculiar Fables 