Saturday, May 21, 2011

Witch Island

Audience chosen story elements: a volcano; a blind woman with some sort of psychic power... perhaps by touch; a talking elephant; a magical world with things like elves, gnomes, and such.

Witch Island

They come to my island to steal all my treasure, they float and they fly, they slip up my shores. For up on my mountain is wealth beyond measure, the founding of kindgoms, the booty of wars.

I feel thier feet as they land on the beach, it tickles my hands the earth's mummuring speech.

They come in the cool of night, thinking the darkness will render me blind, thinking my treasure they will find,

But all they find is me.

For I am the island, the island is me, they'll not overcome me with any weapon they bring. None shall rob me of the stones that doth sing.

"Hush, Layla," I say, "Lend thy fan like ear. Dost thou hear the beating of wings? The elves come on grifyns, over the seas, to seek out my treasure, rob me of my things."

"Nay!" she trumpets through her long curly snout. She charges the shores to have a look about.

So I sit in the darkness, my hands on the floor and count as they alight, twenty, fifty, and more.

So many feet, so many sounds, so much trembling in the ground.

Layla returns, her footsteps like thunder, "They swarm through the forest, both over and under."

"Orc and elf, dwarf and gnome, each with his weapon the island doth roam."

"Swift come," I beseech her and I climb on her back, swiftly she takes me up the steep mountain track.

Safely in the cave where no one can see she beats out a rhythm to accompany me,

While I plead with the earth with my fingers ten, and the earth hears my pleading and opens again.

Then up shoots the fire and out shoots the heat, and with fiery tongues the enemy competes.

I laugh as the ground convulses and screams, bleeds out hot and red the rock in great streams.

Then gnomes, dwarves, and orcs are drowned in the fire, and the elves fly away without thier desire.

And Layla and I in the cave fall asleep, our protective vigil yet we shall keep.

With my hands on the ground and the wind in her ears, the treasures may rest, forget all thier fears.

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