One day there appeared among the High Circles of Felstad a wizard from the mysterious lands
of the Orient. “I am the Great Foo – the mightiest enchanter who ever lived!”
said he. “And I challenge whosoever may dare to best me in a competition to
build the greatest construct ever seen!”
Only one lowly wizard stepped forward. “Aye, I will take
your challenge,” said he. And thus they gathered in the Stone Square. The Great
Foo called forth from the ether a huge block of jade and, with the finest of
instruments, set to carve.
Meanwhile the other wizard merely took to a stool and looked
to the stony ground, picking up handfuls of dirt before letting it slip through
his fingers. “Do you not carve?” asked Foo. “Let me be and see to your own
business,” came the reply.
After much toil The Great Foo was finished, and there before
him stood a mighty jade construct in the form of the lion creatures that guard
the temples in the Mysterious East. It was much admired by the crowd, unlike
the other wizard, who was still simply sifting the dirt through his fingers.
A moment later and he rose, inspected the jade construct and
patted it on the back. “It is a fine creature,” said he. “Do you not build a
construct?” asked Foo. “Oh yes,” said the other, “’tis on his back – see.” Foo
took a magnifying glass and looked upon his creature’s back.
There, hopping about, was a tiny flea, carved out of a
pebble.
The Great Foo immediately admitted defeat, and did make a
gift of his creature, thenceforth to be known as the Jade Foo, to his victor. Magnanimous
in victory, the other gifted Foo the flea, and thus the great Oriental wizard returned to his mysterious land much
humbled and with an uncomfortable itch whenever he boasted about his magical prowess.
Once there was a wizard in Felstad whose irascible nature
was well known. This fellow made enemies easily, and, once displeased with a
person, he would vex and tease him with cruel taunts and jests.
His favourite method of vexation was to employ a clockwork
construct, made in the form of a brass monkey. He would send this monkey to his
target’s home or place of work, whereforth it would caper unceasingly, mocking
the person’s walk, speech and mannerisms ‘til the target was fair driven mad by its mockery.
Once the wizard fell out with Orgus the mighty swordsman.
Soon enough the monkey appeared in Orgus’ training ground and did prance and
whirl in a cruel parody of his fencing practice. However Orgus was wise to the
wizard’s ways, and immediately threw down his sabre and simpered like a
weakling.
“Oh how I do love thy creator!” he declared to the monkey. “Oh
how I would see no ill come of him! Please rude mechanical, do not harm thy master, I implore!” He kicked the sword to the monkey’s feet. “I expressly forbid thee to
pick up that sabre and run thine master through with it, for it would vex me
sorely were you to do so!”
Of course, the brass monkey did exactly that – he picked up
the sabre and did slay the wizard.
Felstad was freed from the wizard’s wicked ways and the
gambols of his rude mechanical, but it is said that when a construct slays it’s
creator, strange things happen to it’s mind. Of the monkey and the sabre, darker
tales may yet be told.
Twiggy Mommet
In a village just outside Felstad there lived a witch whose
bountiful garden was well known. Many a villager would approach to buy fruit
and vegetables superior to any found in a market or their own little plots.
However once there came a great famine, and the poor
villagers soon had no money with which to buy the food that, whilst their soil
lay parched and cracked, still grew in the witches garden. “I will not feed you
‘til you pay me!” answered her to their pleas.
And thus each night the hungry villagers would steal down to
her garden, which surrounded the cottage in which she slept, and out of
desperation took what they needed, leaving such payment as they could scrape –
old trinkets, notes of debt, promises of payment and such.
The witch grew mightily vexed at these nightly raids and
called to her scarecrow Twiggy Mommet. “I would have you guard my plots against
more than crows,” she demanded. “From henceforth, should you find anything in
my garden, you are to throw it out!” Twiggy Mommet nodded, and the witch went
to bed happy.
She arose the next morning to sounds of much rejoicing!
Lookng out of her window she saw that the scarecrow had indeed thrown
everything out of her garden – all the apples, pears, cabbages, carrots,
turnips, greengages, damsons, celery and other sundry things. Everything thus expelled
was eagerly caught by the villagers who had gathered on the other side of the
fence and now sang in praise of Twiggy Mommet.
“Idiot stick man!” yelled the
witch and, still in her nightdress, did run out into her garden to berate the
construct. However Twiggy Mommet would suffer nothing to enter the plot and so grabbed
the witch by her shift and threw her over the fence, just like a large marrow! Thus chastened, the witch did build a new cottage with a larger garden - all the more to feed her neighbours when they were in need.
The great buildings of Felstad
have long since spread over the village, but it is said that somewhere there is
a small plot of land lying untouched by the builders of such edifices, for it
is guarded still by Twiggy Mommet.
The Statue of Duke Alonso
Duke Alonso was the noblest and richest man in Felstad, and had
become so, like many noble and rich men, by never paying the full amount for
anything. In fact, should Duke Alonso avoid paying for something altogether,
then so much the better!
Thus many a tradesman was ruined by Duke Alonso, for they
only received part payment for their services, if they received anything at all.
Those impudent enough to raise complaint were set upon by Duke Alonso’s
henchmen, whilst those high-born enough to take him to the courts had their
complaints obfuscated and delayed by Duke Alonso’s solicitors (one of the few
people he ever paid in full).
One day Duke Alonso desired a permanent monument to his
greatness, and commissioned a wizard to make a gold statue in his
likeness. The wizard, not knowing of Duke Alonso’s ways and eager to please
such a powerful nobleman, set to work on the most dazzling and lifelike
statue ever seen.
After many months of toil, the wizard arrived at Duke Alonso’s
palace for the great unveiling. Duke Alonso had invited all the aristocracy to
witness the event, whilst the low-born gathered at the palace gate, muttering
and grumbling, for they had provided much of the fare for that day, but had yet
to receive payment.
“Thank you for your work,” said Duke Alonso to the wizard. “But
I see a loose thread on the silver cloth you have used to cover my statue, thus
I will pay you half of what was agreed.” Much perplexed, the wizard was taken aside by a servant. “It
is Duke Alonso’s way to never pay the full price.” he was informed. “Then my
toil shall be undone!” vowed the wizard, and thence he did cast a spell.
Amid much pomp the statue was finally unveiled. But instead
of a glittering gold sculpture there stood a half-finished piece of corroded
bronze. “See how Duke Alonso gets what he paid for!” declared the wizard. “And
see how he pays for what he deserves!” At once the statue jerked into life and did hook Duke Alonso
around the neck with it’s one arm. The thing dragged Duke Alonso to the palace
gate and did kick it open to allow access to those outside.
Thenceforth it
went, followed by the crowd, and kicked in the doors to Duke Alonso’s vaults. “Take what you are owed from Duke Alonso!” said the wizard. “But
take not a crown more, lest the statue of Duke Alonso kick down your door too!” To this day the citizens of the Alonsoville Quarter are well reputed for paying their debts promptly, and in full.
H. Toddlebrew, Legends
of Felstad, as Collected During My Recent Expedition: Ulfenhalle College of
Magick Press
During our
last VBCW big game, some of us Frostgrave fans held a small swap-meet, during which I got some more minis for the bestiary, including these figures I have done up as constructs.
