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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2149193
Rated: E · Short Story · Folklore · #2149193
Be wary all ye who travel old roads with no names and shadowed paths
Who doesn't like a Scaerie Tale

Many Spirits walk lonely, dark paths in the Old English Countryside. Travelers who follows where them goes find themselves alone, in the dark, where monsters roam. Men are haunted and hindered and driven mad. Sometimes they find their way home, eventually. They always return out of time, out of place and very out of sorts. Usually they don't don't return at all.

The OldeOnes to enjoy confusing, terrorizing and leading travelers astray. It's best to avoid those half forgotten roads at night or travel with guides of able fellows. In those lonesome wilds roam things both ancient and wicked. They were once Old Gods cast off and displaced by other Gods at different times and then dismissed by men.

At best they seek to reclaim some of the power that they once had and at worst their humors call for blood sport. Their long lives endure indefinitely, as does their boredom and their anger. Really, who can blame them? Perhaps not all of Them feel so strongly but those who do are dangerous and cross.

There are certain lands that belong to neither The Old Ones nor Men. Along these borders the cold feels colder and even the low heat burns the skin. In direct sunlight, on a cloudless day, trees in Faerie cast shadows in the world of Men and a feeling of dread and fear sets in. Naturally, these places are avoided and their reputation frightens most people away. These places grow more wild, more feral, more Theirs. It's unwise to cross into their places, for they are jealously guarded.


It's along these lonely roads and ancient crossings that the Old Ones haunt and hunt. Listen to the locals when they tell you which roads to take or suggest bedding in for the night, else you may become that haunted, hunted traveler and that night may become your last.

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2149193