Pinghank…

This post is being compiled as we go – from contributors all over the place.

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So – if you are interested in writing a piece of this tale – let us know in the comments below – we will pass the baton around between interested writers, co-ordinate and assemble this wonder that is being churned out.

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Brynne in the part of…..Meadow Reedfly

She plays reed pipes and sings spellbinding songs.

She lives in fields where wild flowers and poppies grow.

She is only seen by people at midday under a quiet, cloudless sky.

She wears a skirt made of red petals and has deep green butterfly wings.

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Sara in the part of…..Feather Goblinfly

She brings riches and wealth.

She lives in high places where the clouds meet the earth.

She is only seen at midday by people under a quiet, cloudless sky.

She wears pale blue like the sky and has gentle green wings like a butterfly

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Jo in the part of…..Bindweed Rainbowfilter

She brings good fortune.

She lives at the bottom of tangled gardens and in hedgerows.

She is only seen by people on midsummer’s eve.

She wears tangled multicoloured skirts made of petals and has multicoloured wings like a butterfly.

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The Cap’n in the part of…..Blackthorn Deepwater

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Corina in the part of…..Bumble-Bottom (fairy)

Brings people sweet thoughts that make them smile and/or giggle.

Keeper of the secret lives of bees.

Watches over all sweet-producing plants of the forest (honeysuckle, bee balm, hollyhocks, etc.)

Lives in a beehive.

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Mooska The Cloud Dragon – he is stunningly handsome.

If you want to see Mooska in ALL his glory – click here.

***************Part 1 by Jo

Bindweed grew restless, the petals of her skirt leaving behind a trail as she meandered between the tangled garden roses. She heard the haunting melody as it danced over the dewdrops and went now in earnest forward, searching, parting the tall grasses that wavered over her head in the breeze. Behind her she tucked her wings tightly together, their multicolours disappearing within the folds.

“Meadow,’” she called. her voice bounced in harmony to the notes that were coming from meadow’s reed pipes. As Bindweed pushed forward she saw a glimpse of Meadow’s red petal skirt. It made her smile. She knew without seeing that Meadow’s deep jade coloured wings would be spread wide, soaking in the dappled sunlight, and fluttering in time with the pipes tune.

As she approached she saw that beside Meadow lay Mooska, belly up, head tilted so that his yellow eyes looked straight at her.

“Pinghank, trr, trr, pinghank,” he greeted her.

*****Part 2 by Brynne

Wait a second, what did he say, Grandpa?’
Grandpa closed the story on his thumb. ‘I thought you weren’t going to interrupt me anymore. This is a very important part, Squirt. And dragons don’t like to be interrupted.’
The little boy hung his head, his hands sat folded in his lap, his feet buried in the down comforter on his bed. “Sorry, Grandpa but I haven’t ever heard a dragon make that kind of noise before.’
‘What? Never heard a dragon say pinghank before? Then I’m afraid you haven’t been reading the right books.’
‘I haven’t?’ said the little boy, his eyes sparkling even brighter than before.
‘Why of course not, otherwise you would know that any time a dragon is truly happy, he says pinghank. Not another word for it, world over.’
‘Pinghank?’
‘Yep, pinghank. But you have to say it almost like you are singing, as if you are happy. That’s the way the dragons say it, anyway.’
‘Like this? Pinghank!’
‘Perfect! Now can we get on with our story? Like I said, it’s a very important part and I think you’ll want to hear it before your mother comes in to tell us lights out.’
‘Oh yes, yes…hurry up then, Grandpa, hurry up…’

*****Part 3 By The Cap’n

Bindweed walked towards Mooska, keeping her eyes on Meadow and listening to the sweet pipe notes, watching as they rose like mirrored bubbles into the trees. Some popped as they snagged on sharp branches, but most carried the tune to the stars, which Bindweed thought, was most appropriate. Reaching Mooska, she ran a gentle hand along his pebbled belly, yellow eyes closing as a deep rumble vibrated from his cavernous belly. Eyes closed, he dreamed then, of clouds, swift currents, and the sky that was his realm.

Meadow played on, but her lips behind the pipes quirked in warmth, as her eyes filled with stars and bright shiny things, sparkling with delight. Bindweed sat back against Mooska, picked a blossom from her petaled skirt and tucked it in her hair. Resting soft against his azure belly, her wings quivered unconsciously as the great dragon drew breath and sighed.

Meadow lay her pipes down as the last notes left her heart, escaping past the holes in the pipe to spiral away, thankful for her gift of creation, but anxious to join their friends. Meadow sighed, laughed at the joy of the moment, then sighed again.

“What could bring greater joy than sharing this beautiful meadow with such bright friends?”

Bindweed slowly opened her eyes, for they had closed with the warmth of bright sun and the soft rumbles behind her. She said “surely there is no more beautiful time….” stopping abruptly, when she was startled by a cough then a deep chuckle from the forest to her left. Scanning quick for danger, she started to rise, wings stretching when she caught site of him, lounging arrogantly against a tree. She settled back, anger quickly fading to annoyance, when she saw the smirk on his face.

Blackthorn Deepwater was handsome, and much to others annoyance, he knew it. Though he never mentioned it, he made sure that no one forgot it. His arrogance was a tailored coat, that fit him true and fine. He was a rogue, and knew it, loved it actually. He longed to find the person who admired him as much as he did himself, but alas, he was oft alone in his admiration.

“Ladies….” he said, drawing it out as he drew their attention to him. He ignored the dragon, for dragons were truth seers, and that was not a sword he wielded often.

*****Part 4 by Sara

Feather Goblinfly already has her hands full of contradictions and cannot easily lay them down, She is in the midst of weaving spiders thread into Blackthorn’s pocket. Upon which she will then hang sticks and other unwieldy clanky things. Goblinfly loves beautiful things, and stages upon which to place them. Especially when a stage is raised up high as this man Blackthorn’s ego.

Goblinfly glanced brightly towards Mooska, who seemed to appear half asleep and absent mindedly scratched an itch with a long blue claw. Fine clouded fur floated heavenward and danced in the currents of Bindweed’s fluttering wings.

Zipping silently away then back again, Goblinfly gaily collected more bits of stuff and fluff.

*****Part 5 by Jo

Blackthorn stood steadfastly still as Feather spun the thread deftly, it’s gossamer shimmer adding much by the way of accentuating his worth, to his already perfectly admirable appearance, he thought. Bindweed and Meadow exchanged glances as he preened about. A tiny smirk tugged at the corner’s of Bindweed’s mouth when she noticed Feather slipping a small shiny object into Blackthorn’s pocket without his noticing.

Mooska’s yellow eyes were now open and fixed on Blackthorn. His belly rumbled and jostled Bindweed slightly as he tried to control the mirth that was building as he too espied the object as it disappeared into Blackthorn’s apparel.

“Perumfell, trr, trr, perumfell,’” Mooska whispered so that only Bindweed could hear him.

“Ladies,” Blackthorn continued to ignore Mooska’s presence. “I come with great and auspicious tidings,” his tapered fingers flicked back a strand of his silver hair that had flung itself about his face.

“And what would we find great and auspicious in your news Deepwater?’” Meadow asked. “Are you about to leave us perhaps? Undertake some great and noble quest?” Or perhaps…”

“If you would but grant me leave to finish what I have come to tell you,” Blackthorn bristled at Meadow’s use of the name Deepwater. Could he but change it to something else. But no. He was forever saddled with the shame of his family’s name as he saw it.

“This eve – I wish to host a feast. As well you know, Oberon has granted us a taste of his illustrious presence, and I, yes, I, Blackthorn Deepwater,” Blackthorn’s voice quavered slightly as the last word passed his lips, “will play host to our King this night.” As he spoke his chest rose ’til it almost reached his chin.

“Have you nought to say in this matter?” He demanded. “That I am thus honoured above all others.”

“Of course it is a great honour Blackthorn,” Bindweed spoke at last, her lips twitching with amusement. She felt Mooska’s claw tickle gently between her wings and her ribs.

“Are we to assume this is your way of issuing an invitation then?” asked Feather. Meadow said nothing, her mind awhirl at the thought of Oberon in their midst. It seemed an eon since he had last visited. Staring at the pocket containing the shiny object she prayed that he still was possessed of a sense of the farcical, as he had been when they were young, and he was not yet burdened with the reins of Kingdom.

She missed him most when the mist settled, hovering just above the earth. In that place that felt as no place – she was often overtaken with her memories. And of the beauty that was her Oberon, before he became the Oberon that belonged to everyone and thus to no-one.

*****Part 6 by Sara

Hearing the pompous words of BlackThorn, FeatherGoblin begins to swoon. “What is this?” She thinks to herself, and being a goblin girl of thick skin she hurredly lookes into her bag of trinkets, wondering if that shiny object she placed in his pocket was in fact the key to her heart and not the tiny gold thimble she intended. What magic has Meadow, sung? She wonders.

*****Part 7 by Corina

“Oh dear, oh dear!” came the small, worried voice from the rhododendron thicket. “They’ll have my wings for sure if we don’t hurry up and get there! C’mon, Bandylegs, get a move on!” Within moments, what looked like a very large, round bumblebee followed by a bright green and black spiked caterpillar emerged from the leaves near the field where the others were lounging in the sunshine. She spotted the dragon’s blue colors and gave a high-pitched squeal of delight upon seeing him.

“EEEEEeeeeeeeeeeee! Mooooooooska!”

It sounded like a bee on steroids as the plump fairy float-bounced towards the group. She was unlike most fairies, in that she was quite a bit shorter and twice as round as any of them. Her wings were like a dragonfly’s, but they were tiny, translucent black things in comparison to the rest of her, though she fluttered them to good effect, helping her to maintain her balance. Bumble-bottom, for that was her name, tended to roll and bounce much better than she did flit or fly. She was very chubby with fat, round arms and legs and a fair, cherub-like face with rosy cheeks. Her long-lashed eyes were a beautiful, tawny gold which peeked out beneath a shock of silky black hair. Despite (or perhaps because of) the way they made her look, her favorite colors were yellow and black. She would usually bedeck herself much as she had today, in a tunic and skirt of petals from Black-eyed Susans and a yellow dusting of saffron around the crown of her curly, onyx locks.

Many of the other fairies in the clan would have nothing to do with her, claiming that she couldn’t possibly be Fae due to her size and overly-bubbly nature. Bumble-bottom had had the unfortunate luck to have her milkweed pod moved at birth to a hive of honeybees. The creature who had done it was a pixie, named Pucksly. Oh, he had laughed and laughed at his impish trick. But Bumble had managed to not only survive, but become accepted and a friend of the bees. It was because of her acceptance into the hive that the fairy colony managed to have honey for all of the great feasts and this was also speculated to be the reason that Bumble, herself, had such a…rather large backside.

In fact, that was the reason she had been in such a hurry to find her friends, Meadow, Bindweed and Feather. She had heard that Oberon would be returning very soon and thought that honey would be needed for whatever celebration was sure to be held in his honor. Her pet caterpillar, Bandylegs, was presently carrying three giant blobs of the golden liquid between his waxy spines. The rush had poor Bumble quite out of breath by the time she reached them and she immediately plopped near Mooska, catching her breath in great bursts of blowing air.

She smiled in greeting at all of them and then her breath sucked in and stopped as she saw…HIM. Her friends knew what a terrible, secret crush she had always had on Blackthorn and she swallowed hard upon seeing him in the shadow of a nearby tree. Twisting her hands in front of her absent-mindedly, Bumble gave a great sigh of longing as she gazed in rapture at the object of her affections. At that moment, Bandylegs finally caught up to all of them and flumped down near the dragon with his burden, turning all twelve black eyes toward Mooska. He couldn’t speak, but grunted in a contented fashion at being warmed by the sunlight.

*****Part 8 by Balladeer

Suddenly another figure appeared in their midst. His name was Pagan Blackwater. Nobody had seen him approach, as usual, he was not there one moment, but present the next. His brown wavy hair framed his face like a lion’s mane and his green eyes were alert but sad. He dressed in a black shirt and green pants with brown Vershkeerskin boots. His weapons were a longsword and various implements concealed in his seemingly bottomless pockets.

This wandering foe of Black Magick was a mystery to everyone in the meadow. Bindweed called him the saddest looking comedian she had ever known, since he was always ready with quips and jokes, but his own laughter never went beyond his mouth. His eyes remained sad and distant even while his audience rolled with laughter. He was never known to even flirt, a quality Feather put down to some heartache in his past, one he could never shake.

“Damn it” Blackthorn exclaimed, “Do you have to just pop up like that all the time, Pagan! Everything’s dramatic with you.”

“I don’t do it just to put on a show, Blackthorn. You know the kind of enemies I have. And recently I picked up word about a common foe intent on destroying all life in this meadow. A menace whose roots go all the way back to the shame of the Deepwater Clan and the horrific fate that befell all the other Water-Clans, my own included.”

Meadow Reedfly flew up to Pagan, hoping it was one of the enigmatic figure’s odd jokes. He had such a strange sense of humor. Unfortunately, he seemed completely serious.

“What do you mean, Pagan?” she asked.

“Mooska the dragon is our only hope. Mooska is the dragon formed by the Pinghank Spell and therefore he is the only one who can ultimately stand against the unholy authors of that spell and all the other spells in the Dark Book of Grimlight.”

Part nine – anybody….STAY TUNED FOR UPDATES…