#its not a cryptid it's a local river spirit

[howhow326]

Guys, it's 2023.

Mokèlé-Mbèmbé is not Apatosaurus ajax.

[naffeclipse]

Apologies

Druid!Reader x Nymph!Sun, Mountain Troll!Moon, & River Spirit!Eclipse

Commission Info

The darling @bluemoon1331 requested their AU called Connotations with a female Nymph Sun, a nonbinary Mountain Troll Moon, and a male River Spirit Eclipse! I loved diving into this AU and exploring the characters within. Enjoy some mythical creature shenanigans as they fight over and sit awhile with their lovely druid reader.

———

The morning is warm. Paired with a dewey brightness that dusts the grass and trails you hike from your home down towards the river, you begin to work up a slight sweat in the brilliance of a new day. A sweetness hangs in the air, speaking to the brightly colored life blooming upon hills and meadows. Pollen carries between insects. Trees hang heavy with boughs adorned in rich velvet leaves. Their shade is a blissful balm to the sheer heat of direct sunlight.

Your robes drape lightly, a casual attire to help keep you cool in the summer sun. A rare day where your duties as the druid of the forest and Notus, the local village, allow you to slip out of your formal attire. This day has been expected for some time now. A time not just to be a druid but to be with those you love.

You’ve kept your sweethearts waiting—much to their impatience, tempers, and understanding.

The shade of trees begin to wane, falling back to their place in the forest as the river wedges into a clearing. Distantly, the great rumblings of a waterfall begin to rise. The path your feet follow is becoming as familiar as the back of your hand.

The river spirit was once mysterious and eremitic. Though many within the ecosystem do not choose to often leave their abodes to mingle with other creatures of the forest and land, such as the fae, sprites, cryptids, and nymphs, they all play an important role in keeping the balance of nature. 

Eclipse is one of them. Rarely does he entertain others, though he has learned a tolerance for your other suitors, mostly due to circumstances and that you are quite unable to shake any one of them. 

Not that you reject their affections. You are simply growing used to the presence of paramours when you were so content with a life of upholding your responsibilities and returning home to your empty bed with an aching, lonely heart. 

Following the river bank with its churning water, you venture towards a great pool gathering at the head of the river. Slick and silver rocks make up the edges of the frothy basin. The liquid darkens in its head-spinning depth with the relentless pounding of the waterfall providing a rich supply of mist. 

Your heated skin longs for the cool kiss of the river’s touch. And perhaps, a caress from the river spirit himself. He did promise you a swim, though that may be a wicked fate in and of itself.

Your heart hopes for mercy from the watery being but it is a faltering thing.

As you stop at the edge of the lapping surface, a towering figure emerges from the water and catches your startled eye. A thunderous splatter akin to the waterfall rolls off of the creature’s body as it crawls onto the rock you stand upon. Dark mud provides a sleek but solid body. A tail with a tuft of moss on the end, not unlike a lion’s, flicks beads of water. A face looms over you. You meet the burning orange eyes upon a strong face. A mane of driftwood and burnt umber algae surrounds the river spirit’s head. Drop after drop continues from his body as a maw of bone white teeth split into a grin with mirth and trickery.

“You kept me waiting,” the creature rumbles with the low drawl of crashing waters. “Teasing vixen, I thought I might perhaps have to pay your cottage a visit to ensure you’d keep your date with me.”

You meet his gaze, unflinching. A light threat that would not do well to the walls of your home. A flood is the last thing you need to endure. Besides, he wouldn’t only do such a thing if you truly kept him waiting.

“I’m not late, Eclipse,” you reach up to begin to slip off your robe. “Be nice.”

The impish gleam in his vivid orange eyes causes you to stop. 

“I have waited long enough, little crow.”

The threat of his tricks brushes against you like the fine mist of the waterfall. Before you can warn the river spirit away, he takes hold of your shoulders, massive hands engulfing you in his grasp. 

“Eclipse—AH!” In one massive plunge, he drags you under, robes and all. The water quickly swirls to engulf you. The crisp and cool sensation quickly calms any fierce hatred you may have, but that does not take away the slight fright of an unexpected dive. 

Bubbles twist mercilessly around you. The fabric of your robes soak and grow heavy, but you may as well be a small stone smoothed by the constant rush of the river in Eclipse’s palm as he swims you underneath the heart of the waterfall and towards the calmer waters tucked behind. 

Lifting you out of the pool, Eclipse bears a mischievous grin. You sputter water and offer him a none-too-pleased glare. Set upon a smooth and slick rock, you sit with a wet and heavy splat as your robes hit the solid fountain. Eclipse taps his claws in a wave along the stone.

Great.

“You’re soaking wet, little crow. Here, allow me to help you.” The river spirit leans closer against you. With ease that betrays his immortal nature, he slips your outer robes off of you and leaves you in your white and soaking wet undergarments—the only articles of clothing that were supposed to get into the water today.

With a deft lob, he throws the clothes outside of the alcove. You watch your robes hit with a heavy, liquidy thunk and sprawl out in the sun. 

“Eclipse,” you give firmly. “Do you know how long it will take for my robes to dry?”

“Long enough for you to stay here, with me,” he simpers. “Come, let us swim.”

You cross your arms. Arching an eyebrow, you look up and down at his eager person. The algae around his head glistens with a shine and his orange eyes burn with want. His touch slips over your thigh while he awaits, almost desperate.

“Little crow,” he hums, “You can’t hold your anger against me. It is me who suffers day after day without you.”

You scoff. “I was with you yesterday afternoon.”

“Yes, and it is a long, dreary time to go without seeing your beautiful face.” His bone-white claw draws along your jawline. He tilts your head up slightly, softly holding your gaze until you feel a rush of heat fill your cheeks.

“You poor thing,” you murmur, ducking your head slightly to hide your foolish blushing. 

Before he can continue to beg you for forgiveness, you tilt away from him, and slipping into the softly rippling pool, sheltered by the curtain of falling water, you begin stroking through the surprising depths. Eclipse darts after you with ease. His side slides alongside yours, his form graceful and undulating. 

He passes you by, circling like a shark eager for a meal, but his grin is pleased. You shake your head and twist to float on your back. Swimming has never been an issue for you, but Eclipse has tutted his tongue in the past and proclaim your form weak and sloppy then proceed to support you in the water to keep you from “drowning.” Though, maybe he just likes to hear your protests. You suspect so, regardless.

Still, when he sweeps past you, your eyes fall to the sleek and dark form of his tail. Maroon red moss democrats the tip. The movement reminds you of a water snake sneaking along the surface. Slowing slightly in your swim, you watch him twist back with a small splash.

“Enjoying the view, sly vixen?” he rumbles low.

You hold your ground, well, water, treading it lightly while holding your chin high.

“I am,” you say. 

Eclipse blinks. You’re not certain if it’s due to your own boldness or because he simply didn’t expect such an answer to his question. 

“Then it would seem it’s my time to do the admiring,” he drawls slow.

You eye him warily. 

He swims back to you in an effortless, breathless speed, and scoops you up. Your arms fall over his shoulder. To your amazement, this grants you a better vantage point of the sleekness of his back and the touch of his burnt umber mane. His paws push through the pool to bring you to a low, stony shelf. There, he sets you upon it. You breathe out softly at the cold and silky sensation of finding cooling down after a hot morning.

Eclipse’s touch slides down to your leg. Your flesh prickles at the graze of his claws, but smoothly, he lifts your foot slightly, and begins studying the shape of your ankles, your feet. His touch draws over the rough but healed burn marks. You stare down, idly wringing your hands together.

“It doesn’t hurt,” you say, “Your hot spring healed me well.”

“I know.” Eclipse flicks his gaze up to you. “You are lucky, druid, that we found you when we did.”

You offer a noncommittal nose. He lowers your foot and bows down to kiss your knee. A fluttering works through your middle at the tenderness, slick with water, caressing your leg. His hand cups your calf and holds you in place until you feel as if you might melt away into the river.

A green tendril streaks into your vision. You lift your head, startled. What you now register as a vine writhes into the alcove, twisting until it has curled around your middle. One sharp yank, and it rips you out of the river spirit’s reach. Eclipse roars, his kiss upon your leg interrupted.

The world becomes a blur of water and stone, then open blue sky and green grass as the vine snaps you towards a standing figure, waiting as gentle as a sapling in spring. You stop your struggle the moment warm and smooth arms wrap around you. The vine releases your middle. The rich scent of wisteria washes over you, and immediately, you wonder how Sunny found you.

She stands tall, taller than she often does—but as tall as she can be when she’s rather fraught with emotion. She tucks you against her chest and hugs your sopping wet person tightly, much to your bewilderment.

“Oh my goodness! Oh, sweetie! I’m so glad you’re alright! I was so worried,” Sunny gushes. You finally tilt your head up to study the beautiful crown of branches around her head. The fronds upon them are not her usual golden color but an intense red hue. Her canary wood like skin is smooth and soft, while her wide eyes, pale as the sky at noon, frantically fall over you.

“Sunny?” you ask, slightly muffled. Gently, you pry yourself off of her, but stay within her reach.

“Sweetheart, I feared the worst! The grass spoke of your robes upon the ground—and they were wet!” Her head shakes slightly in her exclamation. The leaves surrounding her face wave and snap. “I could only assume some wicked, horrid monster must have dragged you under the water!”

You hardly believe for a moment that Sunny was aghast with the thought of your life being in danger. There is no doubt, however, that she is not excited to find you at Eclipse’s river, wet robes discarded to the side. 

The very image makes you flush a deep red. 

Eclipse sweeps out from behind his waterfall and sends a wave crashing against the edge of the pool. His tail snaps furious flicks of water. He bares his teeth, the fangs pale and sharp as shark teeth. The river spirit furiously climbs up the edge of the basin, close to where Sunny holds you. A hot glare from the meadow nymph punctures her early sentiment.

The water behind Eclipse sets to a churn at a far more violent pace. The grass beneath your feet starts to twist and twine, almost wrapping around your ankles as if to root you in place. Sunny’s unsheathed claws hold tight to your shoulders, one sliding slightly behind your neck. Her heated stare does little to help the boiling tension beginning to spill over.

“Give back my druid,” Eclipse snarls, “I had them first.”

The beautiful nymph turns your attention back to you, ignoring the river spirit as she draws out a blossom from her own crowded frond. The flower is bright yellow and sweet smelling. Her fingertips, careful despite the sharp ends, tuck the flower behind your ear. She studies your visage with the air of one finding a horizon most lovely. You heat up inwardly under such an adoring gaze. Her smile rivals that of her namesake.

“Beautiful.” Her eyes betray her as she glances one over your shoulder before she gently strokes the nape of your neck with her claws. A shiver rushes down your spine. “Sweetness, I can’t imagine why you would be spending so much time with him.”

Oh, this again. You sigh deeply before reaching up to lift one of her hands away from your shoulder. You gently cradle her dainty fingers. 

“Sunny, I spent all evening yesterday with you.” Your gentle reminder is punctuated with a growl from behind you. “And you are well aware that I spend time with Eclipse.”

“You spent all evening with her?” Eclipse snaps his tail. A roiling begins as you turn back slightly to look at him and possibly stop this storm before it begins, but it’s already too late. Sunny tightens her grip on you. Water begins to froth and splash harder against the edge of the pool. 

You lift one hand up to pacify him.

“Eclipse, you know—AH—” 

The whip-like snare of his tail takes hold of your ankle, and in one motion, rips you back to the water side. In the same instance, Sunny’s grip becomes a vine holding tight to your wrist.

“Release them!” Eclipse thunders, halfway back into the water, tugging on you viciously with his tail while you scramble for balance.

“Brute, unhand them! You’re going to break them,” Sunny’s musical voice becomes a vicious chord of vengeance. 

“ENOUGH!” you cry out. “LET GO!”

Both forces of nature fall silent. In equal measure, slow but steady, Eclipse’s tail unwinds from your ankle in the same breath that Sunny’s fingers unlatch from your hand. Immediately, you rise to your feet. Wet, flustered, and wholy embarrassed, you serve the nymph and spirit with a searing look. How humiliating to be fought over like children squabbling for a toy.

Do they even care how you feel?

In the beat of silence, Eclipse growls. Sunny answers with a venomous hiss.

“Look at what you’ve done!” Sunny accuses, the grass at her feet growing taller and taller, almost shuddering in her waves of anger.

“You are encroaching on my time with my druid.” Eclipse scrapes his claws against stone. He chuffs.

The snaps and jabs the two throw at each other seems endless; you are beyond done with the entirety of it. You turn wordlessly away and snatch up your wet ball of clothing. As you stomp towards the mountain, blood boiling under your skin, you catch a slight pause in the bickering.

Sunny and Eclipse call your name. You continue onward, furious and trying to stop the slight burn of tears from continuing to smoulder in your eyes.

You offer up your clothing to the dry and cool mountain air.

“Please,”  you whisper. Your voice cracks. “Will you dry my clothes?”

An answering brush of a breeze swirls around you. The wind whispers and tugs on your robes, picking them up into the air before twisting and turning the fabric. A great gust rushes over each thread. You watch in raw, emotional silence until the robes lighten, now dried, and float gently back to your arms with a soft zephyr caressing your arms.

“Thank you,” you breathe.

The wind whispers a question, but you shake your head softly, and promise to chat with the wind another day. You must get to the mountain. 

The path is well worn with your foot tracks. The rising stones of the cliffs and the sloping ground giving way to tilting trees and patchy foliage begins to cool your bubbling heart. 

Sunny and Eclipse have always been at odds with one another. It does not help that Sunny is so quick to temper and jealous to a degree that is scathing. Eclipse, however, is never of any assistance, taunting and incredibly possessive. He doesn’t do well with sharing, but he already agreed to share you with Sunny and Moon. Sunny gave her word to you as well.

The grind of your molars threatens to turn your jaw into powder. It was as if you were only a pretty stone or a lovely new plant, not a person.

Is that all you are? A plaything? A pretty sight to own and grow furious when someone tries to take it away?

You curl your fingers tightly into the dry fabric of your robes. Now your undergarments are semi-dried, you dare to tuck your clothing back properly around you as you near a familiar cave mouth.

You step onto the rock of Moon’s home. As you work your way quietly to the mountain face, you find a familiar and hulking figure crouched over a small patch of dirt and growing greens. 

There they are.

Moon straightens at your silent approach. Their rough stone skin is beautiful in the late morning light, marbled by veins of cobalt blue and sulfur yellow. The colors climb up from their left leg and twist around their torso, ending upon their face. The veins cover the right half of their face in blue. Their gaze is curious, falling over you with the right eye of silver and the left eye of sapphire. Their head lifts, covered in peacock lichen and trailing down to a spider web covered tip not unlike a star.

The mountain troll regards you quietly before returning to their flowers and herbs. The very same that sprouted from the seeds you gifted them some time ago.

“They’re growing beautifully,” you say in a voice that is too small. You clear your throat. 

They flick a heavy glance to you. You cringe inwardly—it’s too late.

To your surprise, Moon dips their head in acknowledgement. Gently, with their large and wicked claws, unearths a weed and tosses it off the edge of the cliff.

“What is wrong, little mountain?” their voice is deep and growling like two stones grinding together. 

You open your mouth but silence fills you to the brim. A thickness crawls into your throat. You choke on it for a moment. Reverting to a quiet sorrow, you simply gaze a while at Moon as they continue to kindly work over their little garden.

Your shoulder prickles with a soft sensation. Glancing down, you find a small jumping spider crawling along your robe sleeve. Jumper. The darling and dark colored creature sits a moment while you try to find your words.

Eventually, you hold out your hand. Jumper climbs into your palm. With great mindfulness, you slip back over to Moon, and give Jumper access to the mountain troll’s hat. 

Moon rises back to their full head and gazes down at you. Jumper clings gently to the starry end of their peacock lichen. They gesture with a large but graceful hand.

“Come in,” they say.

You follow them into the great and deep mouth cave. The whirlwind of emotions within you begins to settle as the thick, gulping darkness of Moon’s home swallows you whole. Just as the last bit of light can no longer stretch within, a soft glow emits from a sizable stone. Moon must have done some magic, for they gently set it aside into a lichen-lined and cozy nook within the cave. Stepping with supernatural grace, Moon lifts Jumper from the end of their hat and places her in a large and beautifully weaved spider web in the corner of their abode. 

Moon turns back to you. They stop along the wall of the cave where a few stone jars are resting, and they dig out a strange but glittering rock. A candy, you think, if the crystallization of sugar is anything.

“Here.” They offer out the crystal.

You try to thank them, but your voice continues to fail. You instead softly suck on the smooth clump of sugar, sparkling and purple like a geode rock. 

Moon settles onto the floor, completely at ease despite the cool dampness and the darkness just at the edges of the glow stone. They invite you closer. You accept, sinking into their lap while you continue to work on the candy until you dislodge the thickness in your throat. 

When you swallow the last of the sweetness down, you soak in Moon’s presence. Their claws tenderly brush through your hair. 

At last, you find the chance to speak. You tell them everything that unfolded this morning.

“Ah,” they rumble deeply. “They should not have treated you as such, but Sunny’s temper is so and Eclipse is very territorial. It is bound to happen.”

“They are so petty,” you grumble. “Do they truly care for me or do they tend to their grievances even more?”

“Do not doubt their affections for you.” Moon gently nudges the top of your head in a small nuzzle. “Their rivalry may get the best of them at times, but they would not have rushed to save you from the unholy priests if they truly had no thought of your well being.”

You sigh deeply into Moon’s chest. Slowly, you glance up to the mountain troll, studying the glint of their gem-stone eyes in the dark.

“Do you feel such things?” you ask quietly.

They shake their head. “I am content with your affections and sharing them.”

You dip your head in relief. That’s one less thing to worry about, but that does not ease the ache in your heart at the events that transpired this morning.

You gently rise up from their embrace so you may better press a kiss to their cheek.

Moon lingers a moment close to you, before whispering, “There are visitors outside of my cave. Would you like to see them?”

Your heart lurches for a moment. Glancing towards the entrance, you, however, take a deep breath. You nod.

Hand in hand, you venture out towards the brilliant light of a noon day sun. Standing before the mouth is a contrite and oddly quiet pair. Sunny and Eclipse. 

You feel Moon slip behind you, their touch on your shoulder in a supportive manner. Eclipse drips wetly while he gazes at you, his expression concerned. Sunny’s beautiful fronds have dampened to a sad shade of brown, and her fingers fidget together.

“We’re sorry,” the pair blurted out together. They glance once at each other, almost in alarm, before returning to you.

“I should not have tried to drag you back into the water,” the river spirit pauses, “that time.”

You arch an eyebrow. Moon growls at him.

Eclipse drags in a breath and bows his head slightly. “I shouldn’t have humiliated you. You are not something to be claimed, but cherished.”

“And I should have not interrupted your morning,” Sunny starts softly, her voice playing somberly. “I shouldn’t have tried to steal you away without even stopping for a moment to ask what you wanted. It was wrong to upset you so.”

You look between the two, the pair ashamed and awaiting your judgement. So quick to give chase to you after such a distressing departure.

A weight loosens from your chest. Warm trickles back into your veins, and you smile.

You gently pat Moon’s hand. They lift their touch away before you stride forward. Sunny titters quietly at your approach, another apology lining her honey hued lips. You push up on your tiptoes to kiss her and silence all fears. Her hands fall to your waist, tenderly clutching you close. Her fronds slip into a soft, peach blossom pink when you break away from her. 

Silently turning to Eclipse, his orange eyes are almost doused with guilt before you close the distance. He takes you before you can reach him, and sweeping you close, he holds you tightly to his chest while you kiss him. His slick mouth greedily accepts your forgiveness, and his smooth touch roams over your robes before releasing you. There’s an undeniable breath of relief to his person when he watches you straighten. 

“Now that it’s settled,” you declare, you survey your sweethearts with a lighter heart. “Let’s go to the hot spring. We can… continue making up there.”

“Excellent,” Eclipse answers, and immediately scoops you up. He holds you tightly, your feet dangling off the ground.

“Yes, we need more time to apologize,” Sunny continues, but she snatches up your hand and presses a kiss to the back of your knuckles even while Eclipse trudges down the mountain. They seem determined to behave, at least for the moment.

You glance back to Moon, who silently brings up the end of the caravan. They tilt their stony head. Their grin is gentle but reassuring. Finding your other free hand, they draw their stone-rough skins gently over your palm and squeeze you once in reassurance.

You might not be able to steal yourself away from their affections any time soon. 

[dragonfelling]

HAPPY STORYTELLER SATURDAY!!!! I'm excited that you are brainstorming Anemoian Hallowe'en, do you know of any ghost stories from Anemoi? Urban legends or things they frighten the kids with?

HAPPY STS!!!

Yes in fact 👀- I have several. Anemoi is full of dangerous wildlife that get used in in-world stories. Midonia and Ishida has more typical creepy stories, surely, but Anemoi has a lot of old legends!

There is of course the boy who cried Pinnae, which is essentially the boy who cried wolf, but with Flockets (sheep llamas) and Pinnae dragons. It ends in quite a dark way compared to the usual telling of the boy who cried wolf; instead the boy disappears, all that's left of him are his boots and burn marks. Its used to frighten kids into not lying, and to be wary of Pinnae Dragons. Its encouraged to tell kids to use their imagination to figure out what happened to the boy, if they ask.

There is a story about two dragons that are akin to cryptids. To the Anemoians, the story goes, These ancient creatures are similar to Pinnae dragons and they once guarded something special to Pinna- but he had since abandoned them. Now, they wander the lands without a purpose. These giant, lumbering bi-pedal things becoming elusive spirits of the mountain. Weary wanderers sometimes catch glimpses of their reflective wings, and forest fires are often blamed on these cryptids They have been seen chasing gods and monsters. In reality, however, these two dragons are not some weird big-foot esque things. They are proto-dragonborns that track down gods for Pinna to catch. They were once the protectors of Pinnas first sons, Anemos and Haeres. Diamonda are often used as the "bad guy" in children stories. Its used as a metaphor for a dangerous stranger. There is likely a story akin to the original little red riding hood. They are highly venomous drakes who can cause immense pain from their absorbent, spittable venom. In more ancient stories, they are used as a bad omen for incoming bad luck. These ideas have stuck in the minds of Anemoians, and they are often killed on sight. While they can be a pest, this is usually only due to a change in their environment causing stress in the first place and causing them to come close to human civilization. In more recent years, the Diamonda has gained a more positive connotation and has become a symbol used by survivors of SA and abuse. Perhaps this was due to a published story by a certain Aeraki under a pseudonym 😏

There is the story of Jorah the cursed, where a man steals one of Pinnas plume feathers, and in anger Pinna curses him to be obsessed with the feather, and for the storms to follow him until he can drop the feather. He brings the storms wherever he goes, unable to let go of his treasure. With the storms, he brings ruin. The locals eventually have enough of the rain, and kill Jorah. -That story is used mainly as a way to deter children from stealing from shrines and disrespecting Pinna. It is something that happens for real though!

Another story similar to Jorah, is a girl is turned into a Losimos (essentially a pigeon bat rat) after stealing money from a shrine. This happens to a character in my DND campaign too, but the change is gradual and will hopefully be cured :3

As for ghost stories, there are stories about ghost rider-bands who have never stopped hunting dragons and protecting the lands they were in charge of. These are stories local to small communities, that are used to encourage ideas surrounding rider-band duty to their wards. There is also a story about a rider-band who did not respect their ward, so he was cursed to wander the lands forever without his steed. Aeraki has a La Llorona like tale and a water-baby myth regarding the Fluvius river

There are some Ishidan stories that are also prominent in Kian since their culture is a heavy mix of Anemoian and Ishida. There is probably a story similar to Kuchisake-onna (slit mouth woman). As well, they have sirens which use their tail to appear like a woman passed out over a sea-side rock before they swing around and eat their "saviour". False stories of Merfolk singing causing the death of sailors, storms, and tsunami, etc. Plenty to do with merfolk, actually. Many told by sailors with the lesson of appeasing the local population in order to sail safely. Also in Orsus which is close to Drasil, who likely have a Jubokko (Vampire Tree) story and Dziwozona myth. There are likely stories similar to Kappa, which were just early sightings of Eute, before Eute were a common sight in Anemoi. (They only began to come into Anemoi after human settlement and they strictly stuck to watersides and rivers)

As Midonia settlers begin to change the culture of Anemoi, im sure some of their stories have found their way into Anemoian culture. Ones about cries in the woods luring men to their death and similar related Nidus stories. All these similar to our world myths would of course have different names :3

[riverscrypticchronicles]

The Legend of the Fanged Phantom

The Legend of the Fanged Phantom: A Tale from Aria Falls... Written by River T

In the waning days of the 19th century, the fledgling town of Aria Falls was thrust into the chilling grip of a mystery that would haunt its residents for generations. It all began in 1899, when a series of peculiar and disturbing events unfolded in the dense, foreboding woods surrounding the town.

Lawrence Thornton, a local farmer turned amateur reporter, was the first—and only—person to survive an encounter with the entity now known as the Fanged Phantom. Thornton described the creature as an almost invisible presence, blending seamlessly into the night sky. Its movements were so silent that even the rustle of a falling feather seemed loud in comparison. Yet, its mere presence induced an overwhelming sense of paralysis, both physical and emotional.

Following his harrowing experience, Thornton took it upon himself to investigate the woods, meticulously documenting the eerie disappearances that plagued the area. Over the span of a few short years, more than 45 townsfolk ventured into the woods, never to return. Of those missing, only three bodies were recovered, their remains gruesomely shredded. What caught Thornton's eye were the unusual bite marks, particularly the distinctive wounds on their necks.

Drawing on his limited knowledge of folklore, Thornton began to suspect that the creature might be a vampire—a notion that was both terrifying and fascinating. He delved into old texts and consulted with scholars, piecing together the scant information available on such beings. The similarities were undeniable, and Thornton christened the creature with a name that captured its eerie nature: the Fanged Phantom.

As Thornton's findings spread through the town, fear took root. The once-thriving woods became a place of dread, with locals avoiding them at all costs. Tales of the Fanged Phantom grew with each retelling, transforming it into a near-mythical figure. Some claimed it was a vengeful spirit of a wronged lover, while others believed it was an ancient guardian of the forest, punishing those who trespassed too far.

Despite the fear, a few brave souls ventured into the woods, armed with garlic, silver, and crosses. None succeeded in finding the Phantom, and many never returned. Thornton himself continued his quest until his mysterious disappearance in 1907, leaving behind his notes and theories as the only legacy of his obsession.

Today, the legend of the Fanged Phantom endures in Aria Falls. It serves as both a cautionary tale and a point of local pride, drawing curious tourists and cryptid enthusiasts alike. The woods, now part of a protected reserve, remain off-limits after dusk, preserving the mystery and ensuring that the Fanged Phantom remains an enigmatic specter, lurking just beyond the edges of the known world.

[tlgtw]

Nuri-botoke - "Fish-tailed, blackened undead."

Hello, I happened to find something cool over the weekend while reading. Nuribotoke are a Yokai recorded in Yokai-themed catalogues from the 1700s. I read about them first in the "Gazu Hyakki Yagyō" by Toriyama Sekien (Translated in a way that I really liked as "the Japandemonium.") and there I learned about the inclusion in some depictions (The picture here is from another Yokai book, "Hyakkai Zukan" by Sawaki Suushi) the tail of a fish emerging from their back. You can read about them in better detail elsewhere, but basically, Nuribotoke are zombies. They're undead, have darkened skin evoking the concept of "kuro-fuj ̄o." ("Black impurity," which is apparently associated with death.") and dangling eyeballs, as can be seen. Although fish themselves are an incredibly common aspect of Japanese folklore (It's a nation of islands, after all.) Does the Nuri-botoker not have a considerable resemblance to a certain fictional First Dead of the Demigods? Perhaps, or perhaps not; the Nuri-botoke had a primary hand in Godwyn, Prince of Death's final design. In addition to, or maybe even instead of, the myth of 'Yao Bikuni' being referenced in Godwyn's, and Those Who Live in Death's designs, it might also additionally be that they'll end up more directly themed to yokai like these in the coming DLC. Death and rivers STYX together, after all, across many mythologies. Buddhism, Shinto, pagan Rome, and, as referenced in Dante's Inferno for an example, Byzantine-era Christianity, that which is of course an incredibly heavy-handed inspiration for this game in particular. (I literally had to pause upon first seeing the legit chapel in Stormveil lmao.) But with the end of Godwyn's story being so 'anti-Erdtree' in its events, and the 'underdog,' indeed, 'grassroots-nature' of Those Who Live in Death themselves, maybe the likes of more local and decentralized ghouls and ghosts, found in folklore like the Nuri-botoke, will appear more prominently in none other than 'the Shadow' of that Erdtree. Freaks like the Deathbirds and the Wormfaces come to mind, considering vibes like a yokai's. (As an aside, I personally think it'll be significant that while the Deathbirds' own bodies, their scream, can inflict Deathblight, none of their equipment or spells can. But this might end up being nothing.) Personally, I hope we'll get to meet our poor golden-haired 'mizuko' in-person. If my bet that the setting of the DLC in-question will includes the Lands Between's spirit world of the dead ends up correct, I think we will. If, however, there was only one kinda yokai or cryptid we got see in-game. I'd wanna see a hoop-snake.

I'll Be Yours, T-L-G-T-W

[jarl-deathwolf]

I figured that was exactly the case - no matter the language, one does not simply call oneself Bardic Truth by itself! Although she is supposed to be one of (if not the) greatest bard of her generation, she has too much respect for the craft to just name herself "The Muse." I ended up giving her a place name attached afterwards, which also serves to tie her closer to the very legend she will be living. A nice reference and five second foreshadowing.

Its the exactly that trend of non-Welsh people making her almost a cryptid type being that stopped me from using her in the first draft. I intended for her to be more of a jovial trickster spirit, but even so I wanted to be sure I wasn't furthering a bad trend before I put the scene in.

Honestly I really love the idea of multiple Mari Lwyds with only one as the real one - probably the one that is actually really good at the competition. She's slowly drinking the village dry of booze when our bardic hero steps up and bests her through wit.

Ooo, very interesting with the seasonal names. It'll be a trick to work them in since the convention I'm working with is that everyone is speaking Fellish (Fantasy Welsh) by default in this story, and I specifically note when people switch to other languages. It is still good to know, though, and having the option available gives me more to work with. Naturally the English over there trying to get out of paying their rain dues. I might need to look up some of those bridge faerie stories (presumably there'd be some in the ebook you sent me), if only to give Llywela another opportunity to prove her cleverness.

That's a very good point with the instrument crafting! Llywela's crwth is locally made, of course, but I could see Fellish harps and lyres and flutes being prized beyond its borders. The waterfall tradition especially grabs me - its got a mystical quality to it that gels well with the magic system of the story. I'm familiar with the river fuckery. Straightening out the Mississippi has done pretty much the exact same thing over here, especially lately. There was a pretty good sized town that was half wiped off the map not too far from me - a decade later and they are *still* recovering. I'm noticing that the natural disasters seem to mostly stem from land (and river) mismanagement, which brings me to the next question. A major antagonist faction in the story are the Marcher Lords (or just Marchers) - foreign nobles that were awarded land in the Fells for their role in the Conquest.

They tend to see their authority over their part of the Fells as a means to gain power and wealth in more "important" lands. As a consequence, they are doing all they can to rip what wealth they can out of their slice of the Fells to fuel these gambles.

This is intended to be contrasted to local rule - especially by the reborn Arthur - which is centered more on proper care of the land.

So the question is - What does that look like? What are some traditional and effective means of land management (woods, rivers, hills, etc)? What would it look like on a local level (villages), and on a higher level (kings and chiefs)? You mentioned the moorland controlled burning of heather as one such thing

As for the Marcher (mis)management... unfortunately that is pretty easy to imagine. Chopped down swathes of woods, emphasis on deep mining, Highland Clearances style evictions and overgrazing (admittedly, more of a Scotland thing).

As a heads up, I'll probably send any more questions I have through an ask since this post is getting pretty long even with the read mores. I believe I saw someone in the notes call this the 'Do you Like the Color of the Trees' post

Hi hello! I'm writing a story in my original world, set in a Fantasy Wales. A King Arthur Returns type story, if that matters.

I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Welsh ecology? And possibly also some cultural details?

Thanks ahead of time! And I understand if you decline or don't respond!

YES OH MY GOD YES HELLO

[frosted-night]

Do you have any headcanons for cast as humans? I mean as a human au. (If this is too big of an ask thats fine)

BOY DO I

Let me just get my tome out n read y'all the lore I've made for no reason.

Jack

Left home after graduating to join a caravan and traveled across the country. He came back home after his parent's sudden deaths. He didn't want to leave his brother to deal with the estate by himself.

He still has his van from his adventures and he wants to paint it again to symbolize his new phase in life. It still has living accomdations inside it and Jack has little desire to change it.

He has a few tattoos, such as a hurricane symbol on his neck and a snowflake above one of his ankles. Jack also has a few ear piercings he did himself and he's surprisingly good at it.

If Jack isn't driving he travels by longboard. He had a skater boy phase but it payed off since he can still do a few tricks here and there.

(Sometimes I see human Jack either as cis or trans. It depends on how im feeling. A trans Human Jack post will be seperate from this one)

He's a skilled forager and grower since he had to do that as his years as a nomad. Jack wouldn't claim he's as skilled as Aster but he can be a runner up behind him.

Jack never had a solid relationship on the road. It was very fleeting feelings but he didn't seem to mind. Settling back down at his hometown had reawakened some buried feelings though.

He's fairly well known in his hometown for being a mischievous bastard in his teen years and his past with playing on the local hockey team.

Jack would describe his aesthetic as a love child of punk and free spirited hippie lifestyle.

He has unmedicated adhd

He's 6 or 7 years older than his younger brother Manny and it can make their relationship a bit strained. These days they are trying to mend it while taking care of their parent's old home.

His hair was originally brown but he bleaches it and dyes it white these days.

Manny (Mim)

He's one of the youngest in his friend group, beating Tooth by a few months.

Manny is the 2nd shortest, Sandy being the shortest.

Jack leaving home wasn't easy for him and after a while Manny fell out of contact. He regrets it to this very day but never stopped thinking about his big brother.

He has Thalassophobia, a fear shared with Jack, and Pitch teases him endlessly about it.

He's a natural blonde and his mom used to tell him that he got it from his dad's side of the family. Manny has yet to meet any of his extended family for some reason.

Cleaning out his parents house of their things was one of the hardest parts for him and would have been impossible if his friends didn't help him. (Jack coming home really changed the game too.)

He was a fairly average kid but had a streak of being kind of mean in school. It lasted until high school but he still carries that silver tongue between his teeth.

Tooth jokes about how often Manny visits the local aquarium and he deflects any guesses she makes. North knows Manny is crushing hard on a employee there and has a code word for the guy, "Ocean Man". Aster hums the song whenever he feels like he can poke fun of Manny.

His occupation is working at a pre-school/daycare. He's shockingly amazing with children and has considered a teaching position there but he has yet to decide on it.

Manny has been called a "night owl" by all his friends since his productivity increases when the sun goes down. Thats usually the time he gets to work on all the cleaning he's missed.

He currently lives in his childhood home with his brother. Thankfully their home was paid off by their parents so they just split the bills, but they have considered getting a roomie to help with the expenses.

His dream is to have any kind of a pool in his backyard but he has to wait til the finances balance themselves out.

Pitch

Was the newest person in the group before Jack joined. He's also one of the oldest.

His occupation is a horror novel writer and lives off of coffee even when hes not crunching to meet deadlines.

Pitch fights with insomnia but Sandy convinced him to start taking medication to help him sleep. He got kind of sick hearing Pitch make quick meals at 3am and tripping over his cat.

He has a cat named Onyx and he has that backpack with a window on it that he can put Onyx in. Onyx likes it very much and if she knows hes leaving somewhere she sits by the backpack and stares at him.

Halloween is when he's at his strongest. If he feels like it, he competes with North on who has the best decorations. Jack gave Pitch the idea of using dry ice and its a feature he brings back every other year or so.

He's one of the tallest people in the group, only coming a few inches shorter than North. Contrary to people asking him, he was never into basket ball and was was in the military for a period of time.

Pitch was living a hermit life until he was adopted into the group. With his wife long deceased and freshly dumped, he softly considers it a saving grace that everyone accepted him.

Katherine

An aspiring writer, she currently works at the neighborhood library. She finds it really relaxing since its sat right by a river bed.

She tries not to bug Pitch too much but on occassion she asks him to beta read her works. His criticism and tips energize her to get her works out there ten fold. Kat really wants to write fantasy, a little romance and a lot of kid's books.

Her favorite task at work is reading to kids. Shes an animated storyteller and the kids eat her antics up.

She was great friends with Jack when they were growing up but she followed his antics on a few of his accounts online.

She listens to a lot of rock music and punk pop due to North's influence when she was growing up. He's taken to her to her first concert and she treasures the merch and memories.

She gets around by bike because she hasn't gotten her lisence yet but North gives her lessons on the weekends. Kat's become a local cryptid because everyone has seen her whiz past on her bike at least once though.

A child(Jamie) she read to got her into cryptids and now she eats up any lore she can. They like to infodump on each other when they have the time.

This is post is long enough golly gosh. If y'all are interested i can post the others but for now take these samples. (The Hockey player Jack hc n ex military Pitch hc were influenced by a lovely fic written by my friends over at @bunnimew. Their fic is Surviving On Twinkies And Hope and i highly reccomend it)

[daydream-believin]

A Nice Rock For You, My Love (Please Accept)

Summary: Douxie would like to give the reader a special present.

Warnings: Swearing, stabbing, blood, swords and a knife.

Word Count: 3092 -ten pages 12 point times new roman, baby!

A/N: even i couldn’t predict where the hell this was headed. have fun with this. i sure did ;)

Douxie placed his newest rock onto the window ceil in his bedroom. He’d display it for a while, but add it to the collection jar with the others once it was replaced. Every morning he’s wake up, see the shiny stone on his window ceil, and think of his wonderful significant other.

Y/n was an odd duck, but an endearing one at that. They spent most of their time out in the local forest. Douxie wasn’t sure what they did out there for so long each day, but that didn’t matter as long as they’d come back to see him in the evenings. They’d return to civilization every night scruffy, smelly, and with twigs stuck in their hair, but he thought they looked lovely. Enchanting even. A little dirt never did hurt anyone.

He was going to have to get a new jar soon. Every week or so, Y/n would present him with a new one. A token of their affection for the wizard. He kept every single one. He kept one in the pocket of his favourite jacket. Y/n had found that particular one in the flat of a creek bed. They were drawn in by the bright blue color, reminding them of their beloved wizard’s most recent dye job. After fishing it out, it turned out to be a piece of beach glass, but it was very smooth and rounded. Douxie was using it as a worry stone.

Of course, rocks weren’t the only thing Y/n had brought him. Any small thing not tied down the forest could offer was up for grabs to the local cryptid. Sometimes they’d leave him feathers from a bird they swore they got permission from to take. Sometimes they’d give him sticks they carved intricate designs into. Sometimes bones. A lot of times bones. Not enough bones for visitors in his home to question though. They just assumed he was really goth. One time, Y/n even straight up gifted him a jar of mud. Well, it supposed to be soil from the picnicking spot they often spent their dates, some water from the nearby stream, with a few hand-plucked flower heads added to the top. Romantic, right? Unfortunately, it was accidentally shaken up between the time Y/N made it and the time they presented it to Doux. Still, it was proudly displayed on his shelf.

As tokens of affection began to collect, Doux decided he should return the favor. He’d find the perfect gift for his dear Y/n. One to show them just how much he cared, just how far his affection for them reached. Something to make that toothy smile light up their pretty face. Something to seal a promise to them, that he’d be by their side until the end of time.

So here he was, in this jewelry store, trying to find that perfect shiny rock for his significant other. It wasn’t going too well, to be honest. Everything was too fancy, and quite frankly, too expensive. It was like the whole store was polished and perfect. All those rings were beautiful, yes, but they looked like they belonged on the finger of a middle-class suburban spouse, not his wonderfully scruffy partner. His darling sasquatch. Too impersonal for his taste.

He’d decided that the only way to match Y/n’s energy was to find the stone himself. Luckily, he did live in Arcadia. Right below his feet were a system of caves that spanned at least a hundred miles. Surely the local trolls wouldn’t mind. Okay, so they did, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

After some exploring some of the tunnels for a while and getting a wee bit lost in the maze, he eventually came across a patch of purpley clusters growing from the cave wall. Amethysts, he guessed? Maybe fluorite. Either way, it was marvelous. The color was even close to that of Y/n’s magic. They put off a nice good energy too. This would be perfect. He just needed to find a small enough piece, or chip off a bit, and his quest would be complete. He magicked himself up a knife and set to work. It took him several tries, but eventually he wound up with a nice rock. It wasn’t perfect, even kind of lopsided for a ring, but it was a really good purple rock. Raw too. Uncut and unpolished, like them.

He brought it over to his work buddy Annie’s place. She had been really into jewelry making this year. Douxie had seen some of her work. It was top notch. She’d make him a nice personalized ring and set the stone into it. And he’d have the peace of mind knowing that this gift would be an excellent piece of craftsmanship. Hopefully Y/n wouldn’t lose it in the river. Thankfully, he had measured their ring size during their nap yesterday. So it would be nice and snug. Not drop-in-the-riverable at all… He’d enchant it.

Now all there was to do was wait. He had to give it to them at just the right moment for maximum romantic impact here. He’d watched a thousand proposal videos on youtube to get some semblance of an idea of what he was supposed to be doing. To be honest, a lot of them seemed kind of over the top and forced. While Doux was a showman, he didn’t want to go that route. This moment was going to be special. Intimate. Full of love.

He’d set up a lovely date for the occasion. A moonlight picnic in their favourite spot. Romantic, with candles. And roses. And champagne. He’d bring his acoustic too, to play for them. A classic serenade for his love. He also dressed up the trees around with some twinkly magical lights. He was thinking of making them a little show with magic lights too, to narrate their love story. After it was all over, they’d head over to the clearing to go star gazing. And they’d fall asleep under the stars in each other’s arms as a betrothed couple. Okay, so maybe he was going over the top after all. Just a tad. He couldn’t help it.

Once he got it all set up, he asked Archie to watch over it while he went to go get his darling. He even acquired a blindfold so he could get that maximum surprise effect. But he didn’t take into account the fact that nature isn’t exactly flat, and he had to help them carefully navigate the forest floor. At a certain point, he just decided to just pick Y/n up bridal style and carry them, eliciting a giggle from them. It was faster and easier for both parties. Also more romantic. A win-win. Y/n noticed his heart was beating pretty fast as they leaned against his chest. He was getting antsy as the spot came into view.

He was pleased and relieved to see that nothing had gone amiss so far. Everything was intact. Archie was just lazily snoozing on the blanket. Douxie cleared his throat to catch Arch’s attention and silently shooed him away with a head jerk. The dragon-cat nodded and took off towards town. Douxie placed Y/n down onto the blanket, oh so gently, taking their blindfold off to reveal everything. Y/n was, to Douxie’s dismay, immediately aware that something was up. This was quite the set up before them. They reacted nervously, which disheartened him slightly, but he couldn’t back out now. He wouldn’t back out now. He won’t.

He handed Y/n the bouquet of roses, and they flushed. That wonderful pink color of their cheeks somehow gave him enough courage to help him make it through his entire prepared speech without stuttering. What a feat. Despite their earlier wariness, Y/n was captivated. They hung off his every word. Douxie came to the conclusion that he must be using every drop of luck he had right now. Now for the best part, or the part that could embarrass him the most, depending on whether or not his luck continued. Time to woo his beloved with a special song he wrote just for them. Time to bear his soul. His fingers danced over the strings with practiced skill. The most beautiful melody Y/n had ever heard. They had stars in their eyes. He was halfway through his serenade when the heavens opened up.

Douxie almost instantly cast a magic shield over them. It was beautiful, in a way. The raindrops bucketing down, hitting the transparent glowing shield. It made a private percussion symphony just for them. Rain. Douxie saving the day. It was so cliché, they laughed together. Those freckles on his face danced adorably as he shook with laughter. So, in the spirit of clichés, Y/n decided to repay him for all his chivalry with a kiss. It caught him off guard at first, eyes wide, but he quickly melted into it.

As the kiss deepened, he pulled his fingers through their hair. They let out a moan into his mouth. He couldn’t help the lovesick grin that spread across his face. He turned his attention towards their neck. They tipped their head to give him better access, letting their hands travel down his back. He smelled smokey, he must have had some spell backfire on him today. How endearing. As Doux kissed right under their jaw, they opened their eyes just a half-lid. And then promptly snapped them open all the way. They briskly pulled back, eliciting a whine from Douxie.

“Uhhh, Doux,” He turned around to see what had frightened them.

“Oh fuzzbuckets,” he blinked at the sight, “is that a wolf?” Douxie exclaimed in disbelief.

“No, no, not a wolf. It can’t be a wolf. There’s exactly one singular wolf pack in Cali and its definitely not in fucking Arcadia Oaks.”

The wolf stepped forward. It was smaller than a normal wolf. A wolf-dog maybe. It snarled at them, spit dripping from its sharp teeth. They dared not move, and risk provoking it. Still as statues, Y/n and Douxie watched as it howled a warning to them. Or at least they thought it was a warning.

Suddenly, a very tall figure appeared through the trees. Black cloak billowing in the dark storm, it was if cooked up from some horror novel. Well, a children’s horror novel. It probably could have been much, much scarier. Especially to a couple of wizards that also frequently wore black and walked through the dark with their own less-than-domestic pets. But nevertheless, the sight raised the hackles on the backs of their necks. The wolf-dog ran to its master’s side. The figure patted his familiar’s scruffy head, then strode towards the picnic.

Douxie and Y/n swiftly sprang to their feet. Doux stepped in front of Y/n, to their annoyance. They could hold their own and Douxie knew it, but he couldn’t help those protective instincts. As the figure came closer, he dramatically tossed back his hood. Lightning struck at the very moment his bearded face was revealed to them. Completely by coincidence, honest.

“Eoin?” Douxie exclaimed in surprise. That expression of surprise then twisted into one of disgust. “Oh bleeding balroths, it’s fucking Eoin.” He half-shouted, half-grumbled.

“Aye, Hisirdoux! My old pal! How’ve you been, bruv?” Eoin flourished his cloak and smirked at the two. He eyed up Y/n. “And what a lovely partner you’ve got here, might I add.” Y/n shifted to be a bit more behind Doux.

“What do you want, my friend?” Douxie frustratedly asked. Y/n was getting the impression that, despite the terms of endearment here, these two were not friends.

“Why, don’t you already know, little Douxie? I’m here to settle something I should have long ago.” He said in a now less-than-friendly tone of voice.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Douxie was exasperated. Eoin just started coming closer. “Alright, mate,” Douxie raised his hands, flicking through his cuff, getting ready for what he knew was about to transpire without any more delay. His adversary shot up his hands to stop him.

“Oh! No, no, no! Friend, we’ll settle this like men. The old-fashioned way.”

Eoin summoned two rapiers out of thin air. Both some sort of gleaming black metal and glowing jewels. He kept the one with the red gems in his right hand, and tossed Douxie the one with the blue gems with his left. Color coordination, one supposes. Douxie tested the blade with a few swings and parries. His eyes looked down at the rapier and then to Eoin. They sort of bowed to each other.

They fenced back and forth deftly. It was like a dance. A tango. Y/n was impressed at how light footed Douxie actually was. Maybe he planned this? Was this a part of the show or something? It would be an excellent way to prove how capable he was of defending them from evil or whatever. But they got the feeling that this was undeniably real and not planned by, if not for the rancid aura hanging in the air, the absolutely murderous looks in the two men’s eyes.

The wolf-dog came towards Y/n. They readied a spell for defense, but the dog just, sort of sat next to them? It looked like it was also watching the fight intently. It would woof at the two whenever its master got the upper hand, almost as if cheering him on. Strange. A good boy, Y/n supposed. They’d reach down to pet it but they didn’t fancy losing their hand.

Eventually, Douxie came out on top. The duel had been nasty, but it now looked as if it was all but through. Douxie had Eoin knocked onto his back in the mud at the base of one of the massive old oak trees Arcadia was known for. He held his blade to Eoin’s throat, and they locked eyes. Douxie was huffing for air. But to Eoin’s surprise, He started apologizing. An entire speech. Confusion flashed on Eoin’s face. Hisirdoux had always felt guilty about his transgressions as a lad, about the people he trampled in order to survive before Merlin gave him a home. So he’d spare his old enemy. He was terribly sorry he’d begun this feud in the first place.

“And what say you, old buddy,” Douxie grinned hopefully with a glimmer in his hazel eyes. Douxie held out his hand in an offer of actual friendship. He stared into Eoin’s eyes. Eoin stared into his. Eoin’s shaky hand began to reach up to take Douxie’s. They clasped their hands together. Brothers. And for a moment, Douxie had really thought they had made up this time, looking into Eoin’s feeble smile. That is, until Eoin yanked Douxie down towards himself on the ground. Right into his ready, hungry blade.

To the soundtrack of Y/n’s screams, Eoin stood up, casually tossing Douxie’s limp body off his sword. The wind whipped his cloak as he stormed off, into the storm. The wolf-dog followed his master, howling in victory. Y/n was crossing the woods to cling to Doux in an instant.

He coughed up some blood, and intensely stared into Y/n’s eyes. He weakly took their hand, and caressed their cheek. Then remembered to reach into his pocket and pull out that special ring. He slipped it onto their slick, wet finger. Oh, it appeared that their hands were covered in blood. His blood. Neat.

“I- I wanted to a-” he coughed up some more blood, “to ask you if-”

“Yes! Yes, of course,” they sounded panicked, “please, save your breath, my love.” They pleaded. He feebly leaned in to kiss them, but then his world went black. His body fell like a ragdoll into Y/n’s arms.

Try as they might, they weren’t a healer. Purple light shone like a beacon in the black stormy night. They performed as many healing, even vaguely healing-ish fixit spells as they knew. Unfortunately, this was a stab wound from a magic blade. They couldn’t take him to the hospital, even if they had any trust in modern medicine. Hot tears streamed down their face. But the word hopeless is not devoid of hope. Hope sparked in their heart as they remembered something, somewhere, important.

They had to get him out of here, and fast. He was bleeding out. There was so, so much blood. It had positively soaked through Y/n’s already wet clothes before they were even half way to their destination. The smell of the rain mixing with all the blood was sickening. It was hard to find their way in this darkness. They slipped on the mud and tripped over rocks. Y/n was starting to slip into a panic attack. They couldn’t even go very fast, he was so heavy in their arms. And Y/n was frightened of hurting him even more by accident. Y/n was very, very frightened in general.

Time moved like molasses. In what could have been years for Y/n, the cave they were carrying Douxie to finally came within sight. Their heart was threatening to pound right out of their chest. They mustered up the last of their strength and broke out into a sprint. Bolting through the curtain doors of the cave and knocking around the strings of bones that hung with them, Y/n dropped to their knees.

“Please! Save him! I beg of thee.” They pleaded to the three old women sitting around the hearth.

***

Douxie was awoke to the sound of shuffling and unintelligible whispers. He could smell a strong mix of herbs in the air. He felt the soft back of a cold hand rest on his forehead, so he slowly opened his eyes. He was met with the red tear-streaked face of his beloved. Y/n gasped. they excitedly called to whoever else was in the room with them that he was now awake. He did not recognize these women. He did not recognize where he was. He supposed that didn’t matter.

Y/n pulled him into a gentle hug, as if he were made of glass. A handsome glass sculpture that would shatter if they let go of him. They just lied there, holding onto each other for dear life, for what must have been an hour. Breathing in each other’s scents, they had still refused to let go, but Douxie started to cough again. They reluctantly pulled apart, and y/n started their interrogation about any pain he might be experiencing. He was alright, a little sore, but fine. Nothing time won’t fix. And time he was glad to still have with them.

***

bonus A/N: i swear this was supposed to be normal, just a sappy proposal fic. but once i set everything up i was overcome with the urge to stab him. so i created a character specifically to stab him. idk im not sorry. at first i had eoin like, cheat the duel with magic, but i figured doux would be his own downfall with that bleeding heart of his we all love so much. happy november y’all.

[in-the-inky-black]

WIP Intro: OTHERWORLDLY

Genres ~ YA, fantasy, comedy, adventure, horror

Features ~ cryptids, ghosts, folklore creatures, eldritch forest spirits, paranormal activity, alternate dimensions, magic (kinda), a cross-country trek to save the world, magical corvids, cornfield wormholes, a 9 ft trenchcoat, an LGBTQ+ diverse cast, visibly neurodiverse characters

CW/TW ~ parental neglect (may add to this list later)

POV ~ First person

Status ~ planning/outlining

Word # Goal ~ 65K (min.)

Synopsis ~ Every cryptid, eldritch being, and paranormal entity on Earth originated in the Otherworld, a thinly-veiled dimension that is attached to ours, essentially bleeding into it. The two dimensions rely on each other in a kind of mutualistic relationship. If the rift between them were to close, it would be catastrophic - the energies emitted by the Otherworld would dissipate, and everything from or influenced by the dimension (which includes a great deal of the human and animal population) would die. And the rift is closing.     Now, Cas Saxony, a teenager born with the ability to sense the Otherworldly, must travel across the country - accompanied by their best friend Tammy and a local antler-bearing forest entity - to open the rift back up - or risk losing their entire dimension.

Look under the cut for character info!~

CAS SAXONY ~~ main protagonist / narrator

“What do you eat, anyway? Like...moss, or something? Bone marrow?”

~ A seer tasked with re-opening the rift ~

Pronouns ~ they/them (nonbinary)

Age ~ 17

Desc. ~ celtic/european heritage, dark unruly hair, hazel eyes, freckles, very pale, looks like they might be a changeling

    ISFP ~ charasmatic, witty, sarcastic, imaginative, curious, adventurous

~ always able to crack a joke, fidgets a lot, CANNOT sit normally

Likes ~ their friends, nature, walking in the woods, nighttime, sitting on their roof, moths, hoodies, chokers, seafood, skittles, classic rock, David Bowie, the color green

Dislikes ~ their parents, peanut butter, being bored, mosquitos, not having pockets

TAMIRA “TAMMY” RIVERS ~~ secondary protagonist

“Yep. We’re gonna have to STEAL a boat. No other way around it.”

~ A fellow seer and Cas’s best friend since childhood ~

Pronouns ~ she/her

Age ~ 17

Desc. ~ hawaiian/african american heritage, dark naturally curly hair, dark brown eyes

   ENFP ~ energetic, creative, compassionate, spontaneous, fun-loving, can be chill when it's needed, deception 100

~ loud, talkative, expert at witty banter, very pansexual, never stops moving, can and will try to seduce the ghost

Likes ~ her friends, flannels, taking walks, reading, conspiracy theories, wisecracking, old movies, 80s music, any manner of small cute animal, ghost stories, fireflies, sunrises/sunsets, chinese food

Dislikes ~  people messing with her friends, her foster family, being ignored, bananas, having to sit still or remain quiet

STAG ~~ secondary protagonist

“It’s begun. And so much sooner than I expected....”

~ A forest cryptid that befriended Cas and Tammy when they were small ~

Pronouns ~ it

Age ~ ????

Desc. ~ extremely tall (like 9 ft), cloaked from the shoulders down by a veritable cape of soft black feathers, stag skull for a head, limbs are rarely seen but very skinny, basically skeletal

    INFJ ~  quiet, intelligent, caring, angers easily, will f i g h t you if you threaten its friends

~ very cryptic (lololol), intimidation of the group, doesn't understand a lot of human devices (but refuses to admit it most of the time), tries way too hard with slang, Eldritch DadTM

Likes ~ the forest, bones, corvids, Cas and Tammy, potato chips (more about that later), humidity, nighttime, darkness

Dislikes ~  nosy humans, dry weather, excessive light

~~~~

More info to come later!! Expect teasers and snippets in the future~

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

[forthegothicheroine]

I'm in love with your blog!! I was wondering if you had any book recs for folk horror?

I’m actually working on a podcast episode about this right now, but here are some advance book recs!  You can also check out the Folk Horror Revival shelf on goodreads; I think most of these are on there.

Gef! The Strange Tale of an Extra-Special Talking Mongoose.  Want to learn about the best cryptid ever?  This true story has it all- hauntings, local spirits, fistfights in parliament, and an extremely goofy unsolved mystery for which I for one have no good explanation.

The Auctioneer by Joan Samson.  Nothing (overtly) supernatural here, just a small town turning into a capitalist police state under the influence of a diabolic salesman.

Something Wicked This Way Comes.  A classic, and I’m not even the world’s biggest Bradbury fan.  A hell of a show is coming to town, and you don’t want to miss it.

Long Lankin by Lindsey Barraclough.  It’s based on one of my favorite Child Ballads, with a young girl investigating an ancient murder plot that still haunts the land to this day.

The Night of the Hunter.  A short book better known for its (very good) movie adaptation, all rivers and roads and mysterious strangers and vengeful religion.

We Will All Go Down Together and Experimental Film by Gemma Files.  Creatures from folklore are bleeding into the world via music and film, from the far corners of our memories.

Harvest Home by Thomas Tryon is considered a classic but I found it misogynistic.  Read it and decide for yourself.

[bugcthulhu]

Spanish/Iberian mythological creatures: What Even edition

Oricuerno: The “main” Spanish take on the unicorn (the other being the Escornau). White-furred with a purple head, blue or red eyes, deer hooves topped by small wings, and a twisted black, red and white horn. Usually living in the highest mountain peaks, has the power to turn women into men, and also cure poisonings and purify waters. Its entire body is considered a powerful amulet

Caltrí Snake: Massive and thick-bodied, with red scales. Devours any human it encounters, but weeps for them after the deed is done. Also known as the Calcatrix, which apparently was used to refer to crocodiles.

Cassandre: A beast of multiple colours whose pleasant smell attracts most animals but kills snakes. Between these traits and that it’s commonly assumed to be a lynx, it serves as the local version of the medieval “panthers”

 Jancana: Extremely similar to the cantabrian Ojancano and sometimes treated as its female counterpart, while also a separate being. A hideous, deformed, wrinkled ogress with a single eye (plus two small ones in the nape) and either long, messy hair or snakes in place of hair. Can transform into beautiful women or giant snakes; in the latter case they can only return to their true selves after coiling six times around a man then tongue-kissing them. Also just generally rape men and cut off their tongues afterwards.

 Blue-Legs Garrules: Female child-eater that enters houses through the chimney. Sometimes shown as the partner-in-crime of fellow bogeyman Camunyes

 Velludo: “Hairy One” A headless horse that runs across mountains and empty streets at night, perpetually chased by six furious dogs. Said to be the spirit of a muslim king that murdered his sons (which would be the dogs)

 Lobizon: A werewolf present both in Argentina and parts of Portugal, born from a curse that supposedly befalls the seventh son in any family. A pig-like hairy dog, with blazing red eyes and floppy ears. Devours children and carrion but especially craves animal excrement, a diet that renders its human form yellow-skinned and sickly

 Vera Dwarf: Said to live close to a natural fountain, following close whoever approaches to collect water. Those with a good heart are allowed to pass and protected from all harm, but those with bad intentions are mercilessly beaten. Mentioned sometimes to grow in size as they watch over travellers

 Silbán. A long, haired, long-legged giant whose lair was a cave high in a mountain only he could reach. Raided a nearby village to kidnap and devour women with impunity until he fell in love with his latest would-be-victim. She then escaped his clutches and conspired with the villagers to make him drink poisoned milk.

 Cabrichocho: A blue lamb that subsists entirely on sap and butterflies. Hopelessly smitten with human women, to the point it mimics human speech in an attempt to win them over. Its hide is sought after by wizards, for it grants flight to the wearer.

 Docejo: Bird-like being with a single wing, a single eye, and human lips instead of a beak. Drinks only from a specific river (the Jucar) and will in fact die if it ingests water from anywhere else. Loves music, and entertains itself by loudly burping at night.

 Rosemunho: Evil spirit that appears in the form of whirlwind or a dust devil. Pulls travellers within itself only to toss them to their deaths somewhere else. Can be driven off by just throwing a stone or stick in its direction, because it will go hurl that instead.

 Mairu: Giants said to be responsible for the construction of dolmens and other megalithic constructs across the Basque Country. Usually presented as an all-male race, with lamias as their counterpart, but some myths bring up female Mairu (Mairi) noted for their immense strength. Their arm bones – sometimes the entire preserved arm- possess magical properties

 Hodei: Deity embodying storms, hail and thunder, appearing as clouds. Malevolent, brings down lightning to ruin the crops of farmers. Sometimes considered another of the earth goddess Mari and the dragon Sugaar’s many children

 Darro Goblin: A cryptid whose sole witness described it as something between a monkey and a dog that walked on two legs, with an enormous head and exceedingly hairy ears. Gave terrifying screams

 Mialta: Female bogeyman that force-feeds naughty children with pancakes she cooks herself, and which taste absolutely horrid.

 El Pecado: Literally “The Sin”, a massive lizard so named because of its hideousness. Terrorized the village of Ovijuela until Saint Peter arrived and tamed it.

 Cabanyas Lizard: Another huge, man-eating reptile, so strong it tore apart a mountain with a single strike of its tail.

 Trucafort: A giant bogeyman with a beard so dense and long he keeps stepping on it, thus his tremendous howling. Always seen carrying two enormous boulders; one balanced atop his head, another at hand to smash children with.

 Ome Marin: A humanoid covered in scales, with green teeth and sometimes a “mane” of algae. Prowls the coast devouring anything it can catch, including humans, and especially loves messing with and/or destroying fishing boats, ensuring sailors get stranded. Known sometimes to swim upstream and assault women near rivers.

 Frailecillo: “Little Friar” Ugly, hunchbacked goblins with bony arms and massive feet, dressed in long black robes and emitting a greenish or purplish glow. Sleeping during the day, they are sometimes said to be clever and helpful but often they are extremely violent, entering houses to pinch the eyes of children as they sleep, chop off their limbs or sew their buttholes shut.

 Marés: Child-eating octopuses whose embrace is impossible to break free from.

 Xas: Goblin that takes refuge in abandoned windmills. While they won’t enter inhabited houses they delight in throwing rocks at them, as well as harassing livestock and stealing fruit from orchards

 Gizotso: The basque werewolf. Rather than a curse, it is born from forbidden relations between man and animal. Usually wrapped in chains, and very bloodthirsty; the most common tale about them involves one randomly attacking a woman and ripping off her breasts. Always depicted with one of its legs ending in a round stump instead of a paw.

 Guaraguara: Bogeyman of undefined appearance, but sometimes referred to as a “bug”

 Pauet: The ghost of a child that died at the bottom of a well, crying for help that never arrived, and who now pulls others inside in an attempt to cure its loneliness. Other areas have a feminine counterpart in Maria Gancha (something like “Grabby Mary”) who simply snatches children down her well with hooked claws

Beast of the Clamor: A water monster whose terrible roaring could be heard all across the Ebro river. Legend goes a maiden was sacrificed to the beast to appease its wrath, and even though it worked and it was never heard from again, the unlucky maiden’s ghost is said to still haunt the river to this day.

 Joan The Bear: Heroic giant born from a woman raped by an evil bear. Possessing enormous strength and armed with a just-as-massive iron bar, went on to have many adventures alongside a group of similarly-gifted friends – Arrencapins (who could tear the biggest trees off the ground), Escoltin-Escoltaina (who could hear even the smallest noise) Regiramuntaynes (pushes mountains around) and Bufim-Bufaina (could split the clouds by blowing)

 Pardal Verd: A green, sometimes golden bird whose eggs have healing properties. Usually guarded by a giant serpent, and even then you can only ever take one egg.

 Mother Of Fish: Bigger than man and brightly-coloured, like a sea snake with three heads, two tails and big expressive eyes. Intelligent, can speak and appear in the dreams of others in the form of a fairy. Eating her heads makes even the most barren woman bear children, and her tails can be made into swords.

 Papasopas: A bogeyman that shows up to eat the food that naughty children refuse, but for every bite it takes, it will also bite on the children themselves. Also loves eating flies

 Garos: An evil giant that was eventually bested by an entire village and killed by having a nail driven through his nape. His preserved skull was said to heal and invigorate children

 Jan del Gel: A massive, literal snow man. The third of a series of snow children made by an old couple, unable to bear their own. While the first two were exemplary children up until they melted come spring, Jan ate the couple’s entire food storage then left to the mountains. Comes out during blizzards and freezes any children it spots with a glance, to drag them to his frigid cave and devour.

 Orcavella: A fiendish mountain hag that terrorized an entire village, dabbling in the dark arts and eating children for centuries until finally she got tired of living and buried herself alongside a hapless shepherd she had under her control. None could approach despite his screams due to the swarms of snakes protecting the tomb, and they are said to protect it even now.

 White Fox: Self-explanatory, but also has green ears/spots above the eyes and its tail, legs and teeth are entirely black. Feeds on flowers and occasionally stealing lunches from people. Its blood is highly sought after for its magical properties, but whoever meets its gaze feels immense panic.

 Bird of Joy: Crimson-coloured, with green-and-white spots and black wings/beak. Start life as maggots on the White Fox’s body once it dies, eating one another until only one remains and matures. Eagles and other birds of prey give it wide berth. Loses its wings shortly before death, and if anyone pulls out the eyes once its dead, they will see them become magic diamonds.

 Gollut: Hideous, narrow-eyed goblins that supposedly employed dark magic brought bad luck. Actually has a real life basis: Up until the beginning of the 20th century Catalunya housed a small, possibly inbred community plagued by deformities and dwarfism, living in squalor

 Enemiguillo: “Little enemy” Microscopic, invisible goblins under the control of witches and usually held within a bottle. Their attacks express as countless burning bites on the legs and groin

 Sopeira Serpent: A princess transformed into a massive snake by a curse. A knight failed to break it and ultimately killed the princess-serpent, after which her castle sank into the ground, taking with it everyone inside

Since these compilations seem to have gotten kinda popular here’s a bunch more i’ve done before , which started as me trying to help @tyrantisterror pad out his fantasy setting

[ystel]

To Catch A Spirit: Rice and its spiritual applications in Loheta and Lufasa

In Lohetan traditions, a small coastal country in the southwest of the big northern continent of Miraria, rice serves many important functions. It’s the staple grain of the country, and while as a chiefly pastoral society it relies more on milk and meat than an agricultural society would, it nonetheless accompanies all meals, steamed, fried, turned into noodles or cakes.

But no less important is for the population its use in various rites. As a symbol of soil fertility, fields and meadows are sprinkled every year at the beginning of the farming season with rice grains, to encourage plant growth and hence a good harvest and enough grass for cattle to feed on.

Rice is also used in shrines. Fragrant steamed rice is meant to signal good-will and respect for the deities of Loheta, the Legendaries. It is placed on altars when piping hot and removed when cold and then used in ritual dishes that have the colors of one of the two main deities, depending on which one is meant to be appeased.

Turmeric, carrots and cattle blood are added to the rice to make Heaven and Sky, a bright dish in yellow, orange and red that represents the Sky Legendary, a peacock-like phoenix that carries all the colors of the rainbow, but predominantly has the colors of the sunset. The turmeric also symbolize the sun, the home of the deity, carrots the sweetness that is a peaceful life under celestial protection, and the blood life in general and the ability of the Legendary to revive the dead. Parsley is often added as garnish, or kale added as a side to represent vegetation.

Bilberries and red cabbage are added to the rice to make Sea Power, lending the dish various blue hues that are meant to call to mind the Sea Legendary, a blue-silvery large winged lizard living in the sea. The name references the terrifying, unpredictable strength this deity has, which can make any travel far away from the coast a dangerous undertaking.

The dish is then eaten by the shrine guard on behalf of the village or urban neighborhood, which, if the Legendaries are satisified, is meant to transfer some of their strengths to the community.

When Loheta encountered South Jutean adventurers in the late 19th century, rice eventually found its way to the southernmost continent of the world, the land of Ystel.

There, it became first known as exotic grain, expensive but a favored choice by those who could afford it due to its neutral taste and soft texture which  compliments almost every dish. After the industrial revolution of the early 20th century and growing wealth, it became a more widely eaten dish, still enjoying considerable popularity due to its association with the mystical country of Loheta in the far northwest.

But it wasn’t just the grain itself that made the long journey across four seas, many traditions and myths traveled alongside it, either by seafarers who were enthusiastic about Lohetan culture or merchants seeking to use them to promote their good. However, in the process the original rites and spiritual associations were distorted and adapted to the local culture.

And so Ystel developed its own beliefs and traditions associated with rice. First, Lufasan cryptozoologists heard of the relation between rice and mythical beings, and so began to place a bowl of cooked rice in the open landscape in the hope of attracting river spirits, such as The Catcher in the Reeds and various cryptids. Later, this approach spread to other people in the countryside who sought to appease the spirits that way, and after this, it became popular with wealthier households as well to show their religiousness and/or hospitality towards the supernatural.

Finally, it became a symbol of animal friends in general, as a bowl of boiled rice shifted to symbolize a welcoming attitude not just towards spirits and cryptids, but animals in general. Establishments such as restaurants and hotels, but also private homes would put a bowl of boiled rice, or later a photo of it in their window or in front of it to show they had no problems with pets, and the symbol of boiled rice is now omnipresent in tourist guides, maps and signs and universally understood in the country.

Image source: অজয় দাস, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

[nyklifsondiviiportfolio-blog]

First Reading Summary, Dragon Myths

February 2, 2017

Dragon Myths, UMass Amherst

Main African Myths

Seismic activity, odd snakes and fish, and Jurassic bones could all be clues to what lead to some terrific dragon myths all over the continent of Africa.Grootslang defies common gender norms by disguising himself as a maiden to lead men to their deaths. Usually dragons go for damsels. Why is this? Many huge dinosaur nests have been found in the area he inhabits. Dahomey mythology included androgyny both give backstory to Aido Hwedo. Maybe that is why it is called rainbow? Is Aido Hwedo in pain because pain is a part of being a warrior, and warriors were respected in this culture?

Apparently one of the oldest dinosaur nests to ever been found is in the Karoo area of Southern Africa. Which is close by to modern day Benin. A Massospondylus nesting site has been found, with eggs and embryos. This dinosaur is a sauropod morph weighing approximately 14 tons and being 13 feet long. With it’s long swiveling neck and huge thigh bones, if someone in ancient times had found a fossil or an egg it would have seemed like a serpent mixed with an elephant or a huge dragon. Dinosaur deposits could explain many of the dragon folklore in South Africa, such as the Grootslang. But then what about some monsters like the Ninki Nanka? Which lives in Gambia and has a horse head, horns, and a giraffe’s neck, but is considered a dragon because of its’ crocodile-like-body.

Grootslang protects the treasures of a diamond mine from all who dare get close. He could possibly signify indigenous people fighting back against colonizers and conquerors whose impacts to this day have killed many locals in draining areas with diamond mines of their labor and natural resources. Grootslang lives in the “Bottomless Pitt” or “Wonder Hole.” Peter Grayson is not the only foreigner to be tempted by the earth’s wonders and to be scared away or slain by this big snake. Apparently a prospector named Travis survived exploration of Grootslang’s lair, but little information could be found on his experiences. Freshwater and land pythons inhabit this area and many odd reptilian cave dwellers with even odder eyes are have been found in caves in the surrounding areas.  

The Zambezi River God, also called Nyami Yamninga Ninga, is a protector of the Tonga people. The name means pieces of meat because he lets his people cut parts of his flesh off to eat in times of famine. Which is interesting considering how many of the other dragon myths in make out these serpents to be more nefarious, but the selection looked at in class is 50/50 of protectors verses vile magical beasts. The Tonga have survived in Zimbabwe for over 900 years, making them one of the main tribes around the Zambezi Valley. Tonga society is patriarchal and wealth can easily be measured in term of cattle. In two different marriage traditions of the area, the daughter’s family is to receive 5-8 cattle or the sum of money that would translate into. This is interesting because Nyami Nyami has a wife whose name I could not find. What is her name? Unlike her husband, no famous sightings have been recorded of her. Why is she so elusive, yet is a key part in the Kariba Dam legend. If Nyami is also portrayed as female, is she a lesbian?  

The host of the show River Monsters thinks that a large endemic catfish called the Vundu could be a possible influence for the Nyami cryptid. This huge freshwater fish can reach over 5 feet and has a serpentine body with powerful jaws. It is strong enough to kill a human. In addition it can survive outside of water. Imagine seeing these wandering around on land? There are other fish that are serpent-like that can survive out of the water that live in freshwater, for example the mudfish is very common to Mid-West Africa.

A cryptid is a creature that may or may not exist, and there are many different snake monsters in the continent of Africa that are cryptids. Some have been carried mainly by oral history, but Mehen is a dragon found in a famous Ancient Egyptian text, The Book of The Dead. In addition there are many paintings of Mehen in tombs and an Old Kingdom board game based on this great serpent. Egyptian Eels and large crocodiles occupy The Nile River and could possibly be one source for imagery of this water goddess who protects Ra. The Egyptians had a specific hieroglyph for Serpent which is used to describe Mehen. She is also an Ouroboros, sometimes depicted eating her own tail in jewelry and in mastaba-tomb imagery. Another Egyptian deity is Nehebu-Kau, a two-headed snake originally showen with both upper and lower kingdom ruler’s headdresses. This creature has the world resting on top of it, similar to Aido Hwedo.

Why is Aido Hwedo rainbow? This myth comes out of Yoruban stories telling of a ouroboros that is similar to Atlas in that  he holds the world on his back and is hurting because of the weight. Looking further into the Dahomey culture that helped form this dragon myth can give some insights into subverting gender norms considering this culture had an all female military unit. These women were known for their bravery. In addition a practice existed where castrated men would be “royal wives” for the king. These practices are based on older kingdoms in the area such as the Vodun. This beast was created by the dual-gendered god Mawu-Lisa which are twins birthed from an androgynous parent named Nana-Buluku. In addition Mawu-Lisa has a child named So, which is also a gender-nonconforming deity. What about him disliking heat? Is this and explanation for why snakes are cold blooded?

Ouagadou-Bida came out the ancient Kingdom of Ghana, a trade hub north of the Niger river. It was a wealthy kingdom with a patriarchal society that was very stratified. The head being cut off many times in this myth might symbolise the invasion by Almoravids on the capital, Koumbi Saleh. And then the 200 years of smaller invasions by neighboring kingdoms and how the loss of trade and being absorbed into what became the Kingdom of Mali. This story involves a more typical western dragon who wants a female sacrifice once a year. A warrior, who is apart of one of the higher-up classes in Ancient Ghana is able to slay this dragon, but causes a draught. There could have been a terrible drought that shrank the Niger river making trade harder?

Isa Bere could just be crocodiles killing people and the Dragon of Silene could just be a colonization myth. These are options for origins of these two slain beasts. Isa Bere is also another name for the Niger River. Is he just a river spirit? Is this the Niger creation story? These could be explanations for bad times in both cultures. Both also could reinforce the state. For example, King Samba apparently killed 80 rival chieftains. Could these fallen leaders be the reality of Isa Bere?   

Sources Used: (not all of these are academic or source checked)

Biological Sciences - Evolution - Physical Sciences - Geology: Robert R. Reisz, David C. Evans, Eric M. Roberts, Hans-Dieter Sues, and Adam M. Yates

Oldest known dinosaurian nesting site and reproductive biology of the Early Jurassic sauropodomorph Massospondylus PNAS 2012 109 (7) 2428-2433; published ahead of print January 24, 2012, doi:10.1073/pnas.1109385109

Mysterious Creatures: A Guide to Cryptozoology

By George M. Eberhart

http://chronicle.augusta.com/stories/1998/09/20/ent_239491.shtml#.WJFyVWQrIy5

World heritage encyclopedia

With uplifted tongue stories, myths and fables of the South African Bushmen, told in their manner.

Women and World Religions - Lucinda Joy Peach

https://owlcation.com/humanities/Gay-Themes-in-Ancient-Mythology

http://kitweonline.com/kitweonline/discover-kitwe/culture/ceremonies/marrying-the-tonga-way.html

SOUL SEX: Queer & Androgynous Deities Excerpt from Soul Sex: The Alchemy of Gender and Sexuality by Drake Bear Stephen BA, CHT

The Secret Saturdays episode "Something in the Water" starts off with a depiction of grootslang

http://www.animalplanet.com/tv-shows/river-monsters/fish-guide/vundu-catfish/

http://dinosaurs.about.com/od/herbivorousdinosaurs/p/massospondylus.htm

http://www.mastersofgames.com/rules/mehen-rules.htm

http://allaboutfunandgames.com/how-to-play-the-ancient-egyptian-board-game-of-mehen

http://wozzaworks.com/nyaminyami.asp

https://books.google.ca/books?id=GKrACS_n86wC&pg=PA156&vq=Groot+Slang&source=gbs_search_r&sig=ACfU3U0hksfmkdlcjayAuYh1IE4tPG2SXw&hl=en#v=onepage&q=Groot%20Slang&f=false

http://mieliestronk.com/rivierdam.html

https://www.thefreelibrary.com/Waterslangverhale+in+Afrikaans%3a+die+relevansie+van+mitisiteit.-a0123122232

http://www.ushistory.org/civ/7a.asp

http://www.ancient.eu/Ghana/

http://www.mythologydictionary.com/samba-mythology.html

http://www.thaliatook.com/AMGG/aidawedo.php