Chronosia
17-12-2005, 15:15
The horns of SIlenus blew; great and terrible sirens of impending doom and disaster; great heralds of the grand Time; the Hunt had come again; the Hunt!
And on the minds of Nymphs across the forests; through the lakes, and about the Spire of Silenus itself; The Hunt! The Hunt! Sisters, flee!
For it was the time when Nymphs and Beasts became prey; and the groves erupted in grand revelry; their chained Gods within their Tree-Sanctuaries; the oldest and wisest of the Grove Covens; the Grove Gods. Wine would flow like water; food would be devoured; the beasts would be cooked over roaring fires; the women...Well...They would serve their purpose. And the pipes would howl early into the day.
It was a fine tradition; a Grand Tradition...But other things occured.
To the South; the Huntsmen of one of the Largest of the Groves drove further south in pursuit of the their quarry. A band of Nymphs sought to ruin their games; and while they had pig and duck and wolf; they would not let the pure Game escape the clutches of the hunt.; The Horns sounded, not in revelry but in frustration; and they pushed on; nets hurled forth; blades attuned to a killing edge; arrows setting trees to blaze; or pounding through the forestry; slamming, metal bolt first, into wood; splintering the Great Trees of the forest.
"Onwards brothers! Onwards!" Xavius, the leader; black furred and tall; a brooding figure of 9 feet, matured and fatted on wine and fine food; a Prince amongst their kind since his Father had went into the Great Tree; to become a God of the Grove. "We will not be denied our prize! Never! Caius! Krovus! Left flank, Right Flank! We'll rejoice in the Hunt! The God shall not go unappeased; the rites shall take place before the Great Tree! We will dance and Sing and Pipe and Drink by the Moonlight! ONWARDS!"
"But Brother Xavius? Where are we? These forests are unfamiliar! Our scouts have never travelled this far south" The flat edge of Xavius' war-axe cut off his speech, knocking the young Satyr to one side.
"You would deny me? Defy my will?"
"Gods no, brother! Gods No! I simply fear we trespass on some others dominion..."
"Then let them come; even foreigners are not exempt from our Hunt! This Month; we shall have a glorious Feasting!" A skin, pregnant with wine was passed to him, the lid undone; the cold liquid carressing his throat; firing his Lusts. "Onward! For the Grove!"
And on the minds of Nymphs across the forests; through the lakes, and about the Spire of Silenus itself; The Hunt! The Hunt! Sisters, flee!
For it was the time when Nymphs and Beasts became prey; and the groves erupted in grand revelry; their chained Gods within their Tree-Sanctuaries; the oldest and wisest of the Grove Covens; the Grove Gods. Wine would flow like water; food would be devoured; the beasts would be cooked over roaring fires; the women...Well...They would serve their purpose. And the pipes would howl early into the day.
It was a fine tradition; a Grand Tradition...But other things occured.
To the South; the Huntsmen of one of the Largest of the Groves drove further south in pursuit of the their quarry. A band of Nymphs sought to ruin their games; and while they had pig and duck and wolf; they would not let the pure Game escape the clutches of the hunt.; The Horns sounded, not in revelry but in frustration; and they pushed on; nets hurled forth; blades attuned to a killing edge; arrows setting trees to blaze; or pounding through the forestry; slamming, metal bolt first, into wood; splintering the Great Trees of the forest.
"Onwards brothers! Onwards!" Xavius, the leader; black furred and tall; a brooding figure of 9 feet, matured and fatted on wine and fine food; a Prince amongst their kind since his Father had went into the Great Tree; to become a God of the Grove. "We will not be denied our prize! Never! Caius! Krovus! Left flank, Right Flank! We'll rejoice in the Hunt! The God shall not go unappeased; the rites shall take place before the Great Tree! We will dance and Sing and Pipe and Drink by the Moonlight! ONWARDS!"
"But Brother Xavius? Where are we? These forests are unfamiliar! Our scouts have never travelled this far south" The flat edge of Xavius' war-axe cut off his speech, knocking the young Satyr to one side.
"You would deny me? Defy my will?"
"Gods no, brother! Gods No! I simply fear we trespass on some others dominion..."
"Then let them come; even foreigners are not exempt from our Hunt! This Month; we shall have a glorious Feasting!" A skin, pregnant with wine was passed to him, the lid undone; the cold liquid carressing his throat; firing his Lusts. "Onward! For the Grove!"