Post by Wulfi on Nov 25, 2007 17:57:47 GMT -5
The Banshee Forest was a musical, peaceful place during the day. If one simply rested at any place within the woods, they could hear the soft coos of the nature surrounding them. The wind would hiss soothingly as it danced through the foliage, the brook would gargle playfully, tempting the listener to refresh themselves.
If one listened carefully, they might be able to hear the sweet song of a Fata or two. These fairies specialized in music and spreading the joy of music to all who encountered them. They were rare and hard to come upon, but this forest is where they thrived. Deep in the center of the forest, a small temple lay in their honor.
At night, however, the joyful atmosphere shifted drastically. All was silent except for the faint calls of crickets and owls. The forest was beautiful at this time, true, but it was also deadly. When silence overtook the animals and nothing but one's own breathing could be heard, it was time to panic.
At that time, a banshee could strike. They fly through the air and screech their earsplitting cry, then move through you and steal your soul. They resemble ghosts in thin tattered cloaks, some say, but few have lived to tell.
Heaven forbid if one meets with the Queen Banshee. Tales tell that she takes her victims to her lair and tortures them, slowly extracting their souls in the most painful manner possible.
The thought made her shiver.
Perdita leaned against a wide oak, basking in the shade it provided. A caring breeze drifted by, making the tied ends of her short brown hair sway. Her normally perky blue eyes were shut, her form relaxed. She hummed a simple melody to herself as she waited.
(((Click here for a pic.)))
If one listened carefully, they might be able to hear the sweet song of a Fata or two. These fairies specialized in music and spreading the joy of music to all who encountered them. They were rare and hard to come upon, but this forest is where they thrived. Deep in the center of the forest, a small temple lay in their honor.
At night, however, the joyful atmosphere shifted drastically. All was silent except for the faint calls of crickets and owls. The forest was beautiful at this time, true, but it was also deadly. When silence overtook the animals and nothing but one's own breathing could be heard, it was time to panic.
At that time, a banshee could strike. They fly through the air and screech their earsplitting cry, then move through you and steal your soul. They resemble ghosts in thin tattered cloaks, some say, but few have lived to tell.
Heaven forbid if one meets with the Queen Banshee. Tales tell that she takes her victims to her lair and tortures them, slowly extracting their souls in the most painful manner possible.
The thought made her shiver.
Perdita leaned against a wide oak, basking in the shade it provided. A caring breeze drifted by, making the tied ends of her short brown hair sway. Her normally perky blue eyes were shut, her form relaxed. She hummed a simple melody to herself as she waited.
(((Click here for a pic.)))