I was sitting in the old Broken Oak Inn as usual, swapping lies with a few fellow musicians and hoping for news of a celebration in one of the nearby towns, when who strolls in but Brabanoc the Braggart -- a blight on the face of music in my opinion and of many others. He wasn't his usual jolly self, though, and didn't yell at the barmaid to "set up a round for all to drink to Brabanoc the Marvelous." Shendi thought this was unusual, and Auldin rubbed her chin thoughtfully and said, "There's a tale in this. Let's invite him over."
Before we could stop her, she'd haled him forth from the nook beside the fire, shoved a pint in his hand, and asked for news. Eventually, after three of our pints, he got down to his tale.
A week ago on a Sunday, he declaimed -- for Brabanoc never actually spoke if he could declaim something -- he decided to travel from Longoaken to Durlange. It being a Sunday and the hike being a long one, he thought it would be safe to travel through the edges of the Unterwoden forest. Only a very rash person would try that sort of thing, for the woods are said to belong to the Sidhe and the Fay. Mortals were forbidden to travel there, but if you had enough magic or enough luck you could travel along there without harm. So Brabanoc felt it was safe to take a deer path as a short cut -- or so he said.
"Drunk, he was," muttered Shendi and Audin snickered quietly.
“Not drunk. Led by illusion. There’d be a path before me and then it would fade away. I’d look behind me and there’s no path. So I walked and walked until I was tired. So I looked for help.”
“In the middle of a forest?” Shendi arched her eyebrows.
"I didn’t do anything stupid like shout. I got out my fiddle and played," he said as he waved his hands eloquently. "The good spirits like music and I knew that something would come by to hear my tune. I thought I could ask it to show me the way out." I kicked Shendi's shins -- I could see that she was thinking about making some remark about his music probably bringing around only the worst of the magical lot. He continued his tale, oblivious to the byplay.
Taking out the instrument, he fiddled till he woke the echoes round and he heard distant birds stop singing. Shortly after that, a strange dog with a coat like brushed silver came through the thick bushes and eyes of orange that reminded him of lava pouring from the volcano called Earthenmaw. It trotted up and sat down, grinning at him in a way that Brabanoc thought was rather suspicious. Although the creature didn't seem to have an aura of evil about it, Brabanoc still felt uneasy. He eased the fiddle from under his chin and reached toward his traveling pack.
"Oh, don't stop," the dog said, "We don't hear much music from the human world here. It's so full of ... life." It said 'life' with a queer, hungry emphasis. Brabanoc felt his heart give a strong jolt. There was a purplish edge to the thing's ears, a sign that it was one of the Eldritch Beasts. They're a dangerous breed, giving both good and bad to whoever they come across; a creature best left alone.
Brabanoc tugged his pack a little closer. "Well, I'm afraid I'm intruding here. Accident, y'know. Trying to get to Durlange before tomorrow. Got invited to play for the Prince of the Iron Palace, and it'd be wrong to not show up, you know. He's got powerful spells and has got a real temper, that one. Need to find the way out of here and get there before midday."
The dog's eyes flared briefly at the mention of the Prince and then faded like dying coals. "Oh, how heartbreaking! I think I could sit here all evening and listen to you. Perhaps we can make a bargain. If I show you the way out, would you give me a few lessons while we walk?" it whined.
It was a reasonable request and most folk would probably have accepted in an instant. But both Brabanoc and I had learned the very ancient song called "Spinning Flax" about a weaver who went with an Eldritch Beast to show it how to spin and ended being chained in the Caul of the Dead to teach spiders to spin webs until there were no more spiders in the world. The Beast undoubtedly had more in mind than a few simple lessons. But arousing its suspicions wasn't a good idea. Brabanoc smiled and nodded cheerfully as though he got these sorts of requests from Eldritch things every day. "It's a bargain. You show me to the road that leads to Durlange and I'll give you some lessons along the way. But you'll have to follow my every instruction. Then you can practice and when I come back through here the next tendays, you can show me how much you've learned.
"That would be delightful! I can promise that you will find me a most apt pupil." It grinned, showing sharp white fangs that looked like a mouthful of ivory knives.
Brabanoc felt his heart sink, but he picked up his fiddle and began to dance and weave. "Come along, Sir Graycoat," he said, "And watch how my fingers work the strings." A deer path suddenly appeared in the shrubbery ahead and the dog danced toward it. Brabanoc followed, playing a lively tune. The Eldritch hound danced around him, eyes staring hungrily at him.
Their path led through groves of elm and ash trees whose leaves hung still as if frozen in time. There was a small rowan tree to the left of the path, but it was far away and Brabanoc couldn't think of an excuse to go toward it. Eventually they came to a dead oak tree that leaned across the path. Large cracks ran through its trunk. He glanced at the openings -- it wasn't a rowan tree, but it might do for this. So Brabanoc ended the tune with a flourish and then handed the fiddle to the gray dog.
"You try it, Sir Graycoat." As he expected, the creature's paws couldn't reach around the fiddle's neck.
"Ah. That's what I thought," Brabanoc said sympathetically. "Still, there's a cure for it. I had short fingers too and couldn't manage the thing until my master did the finger-lengthening magic."
"Finger lengthening?"
"Brabanoc found a stone and kicked and shoved it into the crack. "My master placed my hands in an oak tree crack and let me stand there for just a bit and the wood worked its magic and lengthened and strengthened my fingers. We're lucky to find one of the Druids' sacred oaks. No other kind would really do."
"And how long did that take?" the gray dog asked.
"Oh, only as long as it took my master to go get a drink of water from the river. So put your paws in here, Sir Graycoat and I'll go get water from the river over there and when I come back, you should be able to hold the fiddle. And then the real lessons will begin!" He smiled with what he hoped was candor as he pried the wood apart. The gray dog hesitated for a moment and then gingerly slid its paws into the crack.
"Excellent!" Brabanoc said as he knocked the stone out of the crack. The bark clamped tightly around the gray dog's paws and he yelped loudly.
"Ah yes, it pinched me, too, and I could scarce stand it. I cried and moaned like a woman giving birth," he added, and the gray dog quit its howling and stood still. Then Brabanoc put his fiddle in his pack and got out a drinking cup. "I'll be right back," he said, and held the cup up for the dog's inspection before walking away.
But he didn't stop at the river, for he'd heard that the Eldritch beasts could not swim and could only cross water at the bridge -- and as far as he knew there was no bridge near these woods. Swimming and wading, he managed to cross the river carrying his precious fiddle on his head. Once on the other side, he began running quickly through the forest until his lungs burned and his knees ached. After a long while he staggered to a stop and looked around. The path had vanished again and his growling stomach told him that it was about noon.
"It was then that I decided to play my fiddle and see what luck would bring me," Brabanoc said as he pushed his glass toward the barmaid, signaling for a refill.
Shendi eyed him over the rim of her cup. "You didn't learn from the first encounter that this probably wasn't a good idea?"
"I had passed the stream, so I wasn't in the dog's domain any longer. And everyone knows that people love to come hear musicians," he said defensively.
"They haven't exactly been crowding around you here," Shendi sneered.
"Peace," I said, trying to end the quarrel before it started. "Let's hear the rest of this."
/> "Well, then," Brabanoc said as he took a sip of his beer, "I played the old songs -- the Miller's Daughter and Gold Ring. And as I played the woods stirred but what came out of the woods was not anything human. It was something that looked like a red lynx with long ears like horns and strange brown eyes that looked almost human. My heart almost stopped in my chest, but I kept playing till the end to see what would happen."
"And it didn't eat him. Apparently it had some taste," Shendi mumbled to us. I kicked at her ankle but she just shifted her leg and grinned wickedly.
"Go on," I said to him.
"The creature declared my music was exquisite, and offered me sixty pieces of gold if I could teach it to play fiddle."
"Who would have thought that the woods were full of Eldritch and Fey, hoping for a chance to learn music," Audin said mildly.
Brabanoc stared at her for a moment, seemingly not sure whether she was making fun of him or not before continuing his tale of how he spent a few moments weighing whether he'd accept the offer or not. He was being offered a fortune, but the real question was whether he would live long enough to enjoy it -- and what else might come out of the woods after him. "I wondered if I took a wrong turn and walked through a barrow or a henge out into the Myst Lands?"