Topic: New Paths

WoodySprite

Date: 2008-07-14 12:13 EST
New Paths

George Baird was a no nonsense kind of man, he had always been that way. He had been born in Plainview Kansas, and had lived here all his life. Plainview was a small farming town in the heart of Kansas, the kind of place where you still left your doors unlocked at night, it was a place where a persons word still meant something. A mere twenty-five hundred some odd souls called Plainview home, and it had been Georges home his entire life. George had become a solid figure in the community. He had married Martha Townsend, his high school sweetheart in 1958 when he was twenty years of age. Although Martha was only a month his junior they had waited two years after high school so as to allow George to save up enough money to purchase a small house near his families farm. Being born in 1938 also allowed George the chance to by pass the major conflicts of the twentieth century, even though he was deeply patriotic. In time George bought land of his own, and in 1966 his and Martha's first child was born, George Jr. Jr was followed by two sisters, Kate in 1970, and Emily in 1975. In 1976 George inherited the entirety of his fathers farm.

George and Martha enjoyed a rather plain life, the farm made them a good living, and the children were the center of their life. Small town life agreed with them both. In time George was the man at the local hardware store that could tell you if rain was coming or not, or if a season would be good or poor. He had a knack that kind of thing, he was very no nonsense. Life marched along at almost a predictable pace. Then the event happened. In June of 1988 Emily, George and Martha's youngest child disappeared for two weeks. Gone suddenly without a trace. There was a heavy fog that morning and when Emily went out to tend on the chickens, she did not return. Over the next two weeks things escalated from a local hunt to nation wide. Emily's picture was all over the news, both George and Martha were sick with worry, and each day was a media nightmare. Then two weeks and one day later there was a terrible storm, several twisters hit the area, rain poured as if the heavens had been ripped open. As the townsfolk of Plainview cleaned up 13 year old Emily Baird just walked back into town wearing mottled green and brown clothing that looked like it had been made at a renaissance fair. She was none the worst for wear, but her story would cause many to question what had really happened, and it would damage her parents standing in the community.

Later when questioned about where she had been, Emily told people that she had been somehow teleported through a nexus to a place called RhyDin. It was a whole other world filled with elves, and magic, and faeries, and that she had been there for three months living with a tribe of elves. They took care of her, and one elf named Tolkewisen, who was great in the art of magic, was able to open a door back to Kansas and get her back home. The media had a field day with this modern Wizard of Oz story, then it was also found out that Emily was a fan of the CS Lewis books The Chronicles of Narnia. This would later explain for why she was missing for only fifteen days, when she claimed to have been gone for one hundred and twenty five days. And any proof was to support her claim was hidden, like the fact that a small knife she had on her person had three elements not found on any periodic chart, and that her clothing had been made of something like synthetic spider silk. While the media was fed information to make the young girl look look like head case, George and Martha stood their ground, making them look like attention grabbers. When it all settled the only people still asking questions and wanting to know more were Kooks, and government agents.

It took a year for the dust to settle. The kooks were easy to get rid of, the government agents were another story. They would come anytime of day or night. Some were nice, others seemed hostile. The more that George tried to shield his daughter the harder things got. And the fighting began, as George and Martha tried to convince Emily to "come clean' about what happened on her little adventure. And there was the question of the knife and the clothing with the government agents. No one believed what could only be the truth. One night three years after Emily's first disappearance she disappeared again, this time for good. On the night of June twenty-first, 1991, there was another heavy fog, but this time there was also thunderstorms. Emily went out right at dusk to check on the chickens again, she never returned.

Empty pleas, that's what George and Marthas cries for help were called. They were a brief moment in the media again, and then nothing, The only constant was the government they kept in constant touch with the Bairds. George Jr changed his name when he graduated college with a degree in law, and Kate became a science fiction writer. Nothing was ever heard of young Emily again. The media had portrayed George and Martha as "behind the times parents" and made small town USA look like inbreed hickville. But all the while there was a government wanting to know about a small knife, and a bit of fantasy clothing that should not have existed, did exist. In time even the government left George and Martha alone and life moved along.

December 21, 2007

Snow had come early to Plainview and some of the winter crops had failed. Though things were not bad they did not allow for life to be better. Thus it seemed that life had balanced out. George had come in early from town, night would fall early this eve as it was the years shortest day. Martha had made them a stew of vegetables and beef with some of her homemade bread loaded down with butter. As darkness fell George settled into his recliner to watch the evening news, Martha sat in her recliner sewing and on occasion peeking at the wilderness of the world on the news. Dark had come upon the world, and as the two relaxed in their walled little world....THUMP!!! THUMP!!! THUMP!!! It sounded as if something large had hit the earth three times. Martha and George jumped up ran to a window. White out, not only had darkness fallen but a snow so hard the night seemed white in the light of the porch light. "I'll get the gun" George muttered to his wife as he moved to the closet were he kept the homes only gun. A twenty gage double barrel shot gun, George used to hunt squirrel, but he had stopped many years ago. The gun had not been fired in years, three decades to be exact. He loaded the gun, and put the ancient box of shells in his coat pocket. "Be careful George" Those would be the last words he would ever hear from Martha, as he put on his old cowboy hat and slipped out the front door and into the dark white night.

Oddly enough outside was not nearly as cold as George had thought it would be, in fact it was kind of humid. He made his way to the barn so he could check on the live stock inside. George was half way to the barn when he noticed that the white out was not snow but rather fog. Fog in cold December was not normal, and a chill ran up his spine. He turned to head back to the house but he could not see the lights. "Martha' he called out. "Martha, turn the lights on"....nothing. "MARTHA" his voice echoed. George felt sick for a second he thought he was going to vomit, but the feeling soon passed. Keeping the shotgun firm in his hands he walked forward and found a tree, where there should have been no tree. "MARTHA!" his cry was more desperate. George remembered the tales Emily had told them. This can't be happening he told himself. He slumped against the tree and then sat down. He was dressed warm, he had a gun and extra ammunition, in the morning he would be able to see the house and everything would be good again. He was George Baird and nothing out of the ordinary happened to him, he was no nonsense.

WoodySprite

Date: 2008-07-17 10:08 EST
Into the Woody Wilderness (RhyDin, the Present)

George awoke sitting on the ground with his back to a large oak tree. It was still an hour or so before dawn, only the brightest stars could be seen in the far eastern sky as the sun was beginning to turn the heavens into dark blue rather than ink black. As George came to slowly he noticed that the ground was slightly damp, and the air was warmer than it should be. Still he could not see the house or the barn or anything familiar, as far as he could tell he was deep in the woods. The closest woods are twenty miles from the farm....he thought to himself. Cautiously he sat the shot gun down and opened his coat up. Though he was hot he would not take off the jacket as it contained the box of shells for the shot gun, and he did not know how long it would take him to get home. He picked the shot gun back up and then fell asleep again.

He came awake with a sudden jerk, "I dozed off" he told himself. Morning had come at last and the day was hot. George stood slowly and checked out his surroundings. It was a forest, and it seemed to be summertime instead of winter. The trees were full of leaves and the occasional insect buzzed about. Somewhere, not far away, George could hear water and suddenly realized how hungry and thirsty he was, so he started towards the sound. Moments later he came to the embankment where the earth sloped down to a large stream. The stream had a rocky bottom, and the water was clear and moving. These attributes let George know that the water should be safe to to drink, so he walked down to the waters edge, knelled down and took a handful of water and sipped. It was the sweetest water he had ever tasted, so he bent down lower and sipped directly from the stream. Having drank his fill of water George knew that he would have to find shelter and food, while having water was good for now water alone would not sustain him forever.

With mid morning in full swing George took stock of what he had on him, while he never had any real survival training he knew from watching the Discovery Channel that he needed to take stock of what he had, make shelter, and get food. After that he would have to figure out where he was and how to get out of being there. Still something was really wrong, and he feared that all the crazy stories Emily had told were quiet possibly true. Throughout his pockets George had, his pocket knife with three folding blades, a sharpening stone, some pocket change. In his coat pockets there was the box of ammo, twenty-three shells, and another knife. The second knife was not a folding knife but a fixed bladed knife with a six inch blade, a antler handle, and a belt sheath. This was the knife George usually used when dressing out meat. Since he lived on a farm most of the meat he and Martha had eaten was grown there on the farm then slaughtered and dressed out at home. The carcass would then be taken to the butcher were it was cut and wrapped. George had forgot and left the knife in the coat pocket two weekends ago when he helped a neighbor slaughter a pig. This was not any more help to him, but it was encouraging to find the extra knife. He stood and strapped the knife onto his belt, picked up the shot gun and headed back into the woods. He decided to follow the stream up stream to see if there was any homes or farms in the area. With gun in hand no nonsense George made his way slowly through the woods.

Mid morning turned into mid day, George had taken his coat off and draped it over his left arm as he carefully navigated through the trees along the shore. The forest was old growth and there was not very much in the line of underbrush to hinder him as he walked. He would stop periodically to drink from the stream and check his direction. As he walked he had seen some squirrels but right before he shot them he remembered that he had no way of starting a fire, and raw tree rat was not yet on his dietary list. Nearing late afternoon George used his hands to check to see how much time he had before dusk. It was a trick his father had shown him when he was just a small boy, but George still remembered how to stack his hands and count how many hand widths there was from the sun to the horizon. He had five hours give or take, before darkness would creep back upon the land. So he decided to find a good place for shelter close to the stream and make camp. Within an hour or so he located a large hollow oak tree, the base was enormous. A large hole allowed him to literally walk into the tree. So George used his knife to cut some brush and line the floor, and soon he had a place for the night. He made one more trip to the stream right before dark to drink his fill, it had been a long hot day.

Had there been some creature interested in George that night, he would never know. For as soon as he lay down on his bed of brush he feel asleep. His age and the distance had had covered that day wore him out. His last thoughts were of his dear wife Martha, I hope she is not too worried about me...was his last thought for the day. From there he had unsettling dreams, in one dream a rather large band of very tiny strange looking people held a party right outside his tree. When he woke up it was a few hours after dawn, the dew was still fresh on the ground. George was stiff as he stood up, his old muscles demanded more rest and less work. However he had to move on, he picked up his coat and his gun. The weight and balance of the gun was off, there was something stuck in the end. He cracked the gun open, but the objects feel out when he lended the barrel of the gun down. In the brush and rotting oak dust there lay two bars of gold. Both round and about eight inches long and as big around as his middle finger. They had fallen out of the shot guns twin barrels, and now lay his feet. He picked them up and looked around. "Hello?" he called out, someone had put these gold bars in his gun, they weren't there yesterday. "HELLO, IS ANYONE THERE" I NEED HELP? but silence was all the answer he got.

WoodySprite

Date: 2008-07-17 10:11 EST
He stuffed the gold bars into his pants pocket, and made for the stream. He was famished and thirsty, some water would help. The day had not yet began and already he had a new mystery, and he had not even really solved the mystery of his being here and not in Plainview Kansas. He got to the stream and looked about, there might be bears about, and then went down to drink of the sweet water. He drank his fill and then sat down on a rock, he was lost, alone and way to far from home, but still the beauty of this place seemed to capture part of him, it called to him somehow. The stream, the woods, the sun, the sky, everything seemed to make him more alive at the moment.

"Beautiful ain't it' I like coming here too. One of my most favoritest of places,"

George jumped up...."Hello." he looked about "I need help"....still looking "Where are you, I need HELP." George saw no one, but he had heard a voice, like that of a young boy.

"Calm down I'ms up here in the tree, Ive been following ya since ya got here. Your not so lost, your in my woods." the childish voice replied.

George settled some, after all this was a child he was dealing with, "I need to get to a phone, to call my wife. And I am hungry." he scanned the trees looking for a small boy. "Where are you which tree?"

"I'ms in this tree, on a branch right over your head, and what?sa phone?"

At hearing the child ask about the phone he weakly asked, "Am I in RhyDin?"

"Shyeah, where else did ya expect to be? Ya have been here what two days now?" there was a pause, "YEAH. Two days....good for ya.."

"Did you leave me the gold?" George asked

"Nope, I did nots, I did leave you flint for fire, but you saw gold first, soooo very tall folk of you."

George scanned the over hanging branches over and over, "I can't see you?

"I'ms small, to you, tall for my kind. But smallish to tall folk." The voice replied.

"What do you mean your small, how small can you be?" George looked hard at the over hanging branches.

"Smaller than what you know as normal in your world."

"My World"

"Shyeah, I just confirmed to ya that ya was no longer in your world. What's hard to figure?" the childs voice seemed annoyed. "Your like most adult tall folk from the outer nexus, I know better, this can't be happening, this does not exist, I'm losing my mind. Excuses. Excuses. Excuses."

"I'm sorry, I am new here, do ya know My daughter, Emily Baird?" George hoped for a second, " Are you one of the elves?"

"Nopes I ams no elf, they are too tall for me to be. Besides elves are so flighty sometimes. They are always so into saving the world, or protecting and guarding something or the other. Nope I'ms a tree sprite." the last part was said as if it would explain everything to George.

"Look I really do need help little tree sprite," George began to move back towards the woods. "I am very hungry, tired and I really do need to get a message to my wife. Can you help me?" he stopped and scanned the branches over head hoping to see someone. Only the quiet of the woods. "Great, I found someone and lost them in all of ten minutes. HELLO OUT THERE?" Georges heart lost courage, "Perhaps I am going mad."

"No your not going mad!" the small voice protested, "And stop shouting, there are terrible things in the woods, not like in the woods your used to knowing..? He then flew down to George, and for the first time George saw the small tree sprite.

Small was right, he was only six inches in height, brown hair and eyes, elvish features, long wild hair he had no wings but he flew, and he was butt naked. He hovered right there in front of George not more than three feet away. Georges world came unwound, up, down and the parts in between all became one. The next thing he knew someone was yelling and then darkness was on him....

WoodySprite

Date: 2008-08-15 11:03 EST
Slowly there was light, it seemed to come from a far off place. George struggled with the fog that clouded his mind.I'm late....he thought, but for what he could not remember. I have to get up, Marthas probably got breakfast done, and I have work to do. Then as he came too he started to remember. I'm lost in the woods, there was a little person, flying. George bolted up and there was hovering in front of him the tiny tree sprite. "Was I out long?" George asked his voice was shakey.

"About an hour. You didn't take meeting me so well." the flying boy informed "Most folks get all cutesy and say 'ahhh how cute, your so cute, how darling' you, on the other hand, screamed like a little girl and passed out. What's up with that?"

George looked about for his thing, his gun was close by and his coat had been tucked under his head for a pillow. Also there was some wood for a fire, and a small cache of wild fruit and berries. "You do all this for me lil' tree sprite?"

"Woody, I'ms named Woody. And yeppers, I collected your stuffs, and put your coat under your head for ya. Ya got some wood there for a fire, some food, and I pulled your weapon close by, just in case ya needed it.

"Thank you Woody," Georges voice resonated with some relief, "I did not mean to react so badly, it's just that there is nothing like you in my world. And How do you fly, you have no wings, do you live here" and where are your parents"..."

"One thing at a time..." Woody cut George off, "I fly kinda like the way you move a finger or wiggle your toes, I just do. Second, I dunno where my parents are, I haven't seen them in like three or four thousand years, by tall folk reckoning, I was banished from my home world. And yeah I live all around here. I have a tree near the standing stones in the center of these woods, and I occasionally stay at the Red Dragon Inn with some friends and family of mine...."

"Inn" There is an Inn. Is it close by?" this time George cut Woody off. "And I thought you said your family was not around here?"

"I can get to the inn in a few minutes, you will have to walk there and it's about thirty kilometers from here. Plus it's almost midday, we could never reach the inn by dark. So eat, rest and tomorrow we can begin making our way there. I'll stay with ya tonight." Woody smiled at George, "And I have a family that has adopted me, The Ravenlock family, my adopted name is Woodrow Ravenlock. The Ravenlocks are all tall folk, but I still love them." Woody grinned and landed near the stack of wood.

"The Ravenlocks you say, " George shook his head as he took in all the information, "I'll get the fire started right after I eat. I'll need some more wood to, you got enough to get started but we'll need a fire all night long."

"A small fire, not too big. Ya don't want to attract attention out here. Not that there's a lot of trolls about, but there are a few."

"Trolls" Your kidding right?" George looked about the surrounding forest with a new respect. He was going to have to learn as much as he could from this tree sprite if he was going to survive. "Trolls, right. I got that.?