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 Posted: Tue Oct 26, 2010 10:45 pm
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Anima Voro Temper: Voracious Entry  [ LARGER IMAGE] Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Invented, but inadvertently inspired from something I read about. Title of Legend: The Soul-Eater Legend Details: He arrives at your home at nightfall, the Soul-Eater. His appearance is deceiving; pleasant-looking, well mannered, with the voice of a man who's been run out of his luck one too many times. All of it an illusion. A trick. "Please," he will beg with that hollow, broken voice, "please, can you find it in your heart to spare a few scraps of food?" As your eyes meet his, somehow, you cannot refuse the humble request. It would only be for a few minutes, after all, and then you would send the stranger on his way... and so you allow him into your home. He is exceedingly well-mannered, polite; he waits for permission before he will sit, acting ever the perfect guest. You may ask him questions about himself, but he will only lie; he weaves a fabricated tale of how he came to be in such a horrible state, carefully tugging on your heartstrings with purpose, playing to your sympathies. He is grateful when you present him with a meal; after seeing how thin the man was, it seemed greedy to feed him with just a few measly portions. He does not eat like a starving man -- he eats slowly, delicately, savoring each bite as if they will be his very last. All the while he never takes his eyes off you, and as if hypnotized, you begin to feel tired with each bite of food he swallows. Lethargy begins to set in, and you are no longer sure what is real, feeling disconnected from the world -- and all you can do is stare at the man you allowed into your home and eat your food. Still he eats, as if unaware of your helpless state, and you could swear he were grinning... wider, and wider still... impossibly wide... The illusion of the Soul-Eater begins to fade as your life does; his pleasant appearance is shedding away to his true self. His eyes become as hollow as his voice was, blank and sunken into a sallow face. Black marks streak down from his eyes and his body, already skinny, seems to whither even further as he grows taller -- he is sickly thin, his ribcage and spine clearly visible through is flesh. His hair is long and stringy, nearly obscuring his face to the point where only the unnatural grin and blank eyes are all you can see in your blurred vision. As he eats the food you served him, he is consuming your soul -- and as each piece slides down his throat, a piece of your life slips away. You notice, with the last ounce of life, your last breath, as a long tongue slithers out from his mouth to lick away the crumbs left on his plate, and then... nothing. The Soul-Eater, finished with his meal and now completely shed of his disguise -- for there is no one left alive to fool -- returns to the night, satisfied. Comments: The concept for this urban legend came about from my scouring the internet, reading folklore and other urban legends for either a legend to use or inspiration to write my own. I came across an article about sin eaters, and I mis-read the first sentence: I thought it said that "sin-eater refers to a person who, through ritual means, would take on by means of food and drink the sins of a deceased person, thus absorbing his or her soul" and was immediately taken with the idea. As I read on, though, I realized that was not what a sin-eater is at all, and that I'd misread. I was too into the idea at that point, though, that I just decided to create my own legend. As for the costume, I'd just like to note that the hair does NOT have to be that messy and curly. It's just meant to be black and very long, slightly wave and stringy, as if it's unwashed, and thicker than my pen would allow me to make it. I also wasn't sure if we were allowed to edit out the eye or not; I'm okay with it if the soquili must have an eyeball. His stomach was edited to be slightly smaller as well, but not by much; again, I'm okay with it if that's not allowed on the official soquili. I just wanted to portray his malnourishment.
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Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 12:09 am
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Lieutenant Johnny Temper: Scourned Entry With BloodIs this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Existing Title of Legend: Dead Soldier’s Wedding Waltz Legend Details: Link to the storyWithin an hour of my arrival at Fort Union, my new post, my best friend Johnny came to the barracks with a broad grin and a friendly clout on the shoulder. He’d hurried over as soon as he heard I had come, and we talked ’til sunset and beyond.
As soon as Johnny mentioned Celia’s name, I knew he had it bad for her. To hear him talk, Celia was the most amazing woman who had ever graced God’s green earth. She was the sister-in-law of the captain, and all the young men on the base were infatuated with her. Celia was the prettiest of the eligible ladies that graced Fort Union society. She liked the spice of adventure to be found so near the wilds.
Johnny alternated between elation when Celia talked with him and despair when she flirted with another man. I watched their courtship from afar and was troubled. There was something about Celia that I didn’t like. I never mentioned it to Johnny, but I thought she was too much of a flirt. I wished Johnny had fallen for a nicer woman.
About a month after I arrived at Fort Union, a birthday dance was given for one of the officers. To Johnny’s elation, Celia agreed to be his partner at the dance. Johnny was dancing on cloud nine all night, until a messenger came gasping into the room to report an Apache raid. With a small scream of terror, Celia clung shamelessly to Johnny and begged him not to go even though he was the lieutenant put in charge of the mission. Well sir, Johnny proposed to her right then and there and Celia accepted. Furthermore, Celia told Johnny that she would wait for him, and that if he didn’t come back she would never marry. I doubted Celia’s sincerity, but Johnny just ate it up.
I was assigned to Johnny’s troop, so I had to leave too. We started out the next morning, and had a rough week tracking down and fighting the Apaches. Johnny split up the troop; taking command of the first group and giving me command of the second. My men reached the rendezvous point with no casualties, but only half of the other group arrived, and Johnny was not among them. They’d been ambushed by the Apaches. I had to take command of the troop. We searched for survivors, but never found Johnny’s body. As soon as I could, I ordered the men to turn for home.
Celia made a terrible, heart-rending scene when she found out Johnny was missing. She flung herself into my arms when I gave her the news and sobbed becomingly. The display turned my stomach, it was so obviously insincere. I excused myself hastily and left her to the ministrations of the other soldiers. From that time on, I was careful to stay away from Celia, who mourned less than a week for my friend before resuming her flirtatious ways.
About a month later, a rich handsome lieutenant arrived at Fort Union. He was from the East, and Celia took a real shine to him. Johnny was completely forgotten and so was her promise to him. It wasn’t long before Celia and the lieutenant were engaged and started planning a big wedding. Nothing but the very best would suit Celia, and her bridegroom had the money to indulge her.
Everyone in Fort Union was invited to the ceremony, and the weather was perfect on the day of the wedding. Everyone turned out in their best clothes and the wedding was a social success. After the ceremony, all the guests were invited to a celebratory ball.
We were waltzing around the ballroom when the door flew open with a loud bang. A gust of cold air blew in, dimming the candles. A heart-wrenching wail echoed through the room. The music stopped abruptly and everyone turned to look at the door. Standing there was the swollen, dead body of a soldier. It was dressed in an officer’s uniform. The eyes were burning with a terrible fire. The temple had a huge gash from a hatchet-blow. There was no scalp. It was Johnny.
The whole crowd stood silent, as if in a trance. No one moved, no one murmured. I wanted to cry out when I recognized Johnny, but I was struck dumb like the rest of the wedding guests.
Johnny walked across the room and took Celia out of her bridegroom’s arms. She was frozen in horror and could not resist. Johnny looked at the musicians. Still in a trance, they began to play a horrible, demonic sounding waltz. Johnny and Celia began to dance. They swept around and around the room, doing an intricate waltz. Johnny held the white-clad bride tight against his dead body while a deathly pallor crept over her face. Her steps slowed but still Johnny held her tight and moved them around in a grisly parody of a waltz. Celia’s eyes bulged. She turned as white as her gown and her mouth sagged open. She gave one small gasp, and died in his arms.
Johnny dropped Celia’s body on the floor and stood over her, wringing his blood-stained hands. He threw back his head and gave another unearthly wail that echoed around the room. Then he vanished through the door.
Released from the trance, the crowd gasped and exclaimed. The bridegroom ran to Celia and knelt beside her, wringing his hands in the same manner as Johnny. His cries were all too human.
Unable to bear the sight of the stricken bridegroom, I took my captain aside and asked permission to take a small detail back to the place where our troop had been attacked by the Apaches to search once more for my dead friend. He sent a dozen men with me. We combed the area, and finally found Johnny’s body hidden in a crevice. It looked exactly the same as it had appeared on the night of Celia’s wedding.
We brought Johnny back to the fort with us and the captain buried him beside Celia. Celia’s bridegroom went back East shortly after we buried Johnny, and I resigned my commission a few days later and went home, never wanting to see that cursed place again.
I heard later that Celia’s ghost was often seen at dusk, weeping over Johnny’s grave, but I never went back to Fort Union to see it for myself.
(Copy/pasted from the site) Comments: - The sash/cloth across his back and hat represents him being a Lieutenant - The roses are to represent the wedding. - the blood how he was killed - no idea his hair style or color so i winged that ^^; - The ring on his tail is his engagement ring - the dog tags to show he was a soldier
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Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 9:31 am
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Dionaea Temper: Hungry EntryJust to be safe, I'm going to link it here. Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Existing. Title of Legend: The Dionaea House Legend Details: Our story begins here. A man, Mark, begins writing correspondence to his friend, Eric, about their mutual friend Drew. Drew recently killed two people in a diner in Idaho while muttering about "THE DOOR IS OPEN", the correspondence says, and Mark wants to investigate it. In doing so, Mark travels to Houston to try and find Drew's mom. No luck; instead he follows another lead that takes him to an old house that Drew's stepdad used to rent from clients. These clients turned out to be the same people that Drew murdered. Feeling like he's getting somewhere, Mark goes to Idaho where the murder took place to see what he can find. In Idaho, he finds the exact same house, down to the roof damage and the missing planks. From the website: "EARS RINGING AGAIN I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO HOW IS IT THE SAME?????" He finds a way into the house. It smells like metal. Oddly there are stairs leading up to the second floor, which doesn't make sense because from the outside it's a one story house. During the entire time he's in the house, he's texting his friend Eric. His last two texts read: "I THINK SOMEONES HERE. I JUST HEARD SOEMTHING." Followed by: "THE DOOR IS OPEN" Mark was never seen again. Eric does some research on his own, as found here. We learn more about the house here. Eric keeps a personal blog here. The last comment ... strange. Loreen Mathers has some interesting ideas in her blog. Comments: To this day, this legend still freaks me out. Houses luring people in by smelling like cakes and pastries and with sinister stories, then eating them? No thanks. 8( I kind of had to wing the looks of Dionaea himself to fit with the template provided, but that's okay. 8D The strings are important, as is the black goop that's pouring from his mouth and caked on to/around his feet. Everything else is left up to artist discretion!
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Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 10:04 am
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Entice Temper: Psychotic Entry Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Invented. Title of Legend: Death wisp. Legend Details: Legend has it that these formless balls of light lead strangers a stray, until they were eternally lost however, a certain wisp, a rarity that dazzles wanderers in it's beautiful rich, glowing red lead many to their death without meaning to. This caused these spirits to become vengeful and angry to the point they went out meaning to cause pain and suffering to others. Until one was cursed, having been trapped in the body of a soquili and made a carnival act of. It's form can be seen in the cage wrapped around it's neck, and even now, it still bares the natural curse of leading those in to disaster and to their undeserved fate; as each victim falls, more blood splatters the wrap it is made to wear. Comments: Something a little different? xD An idea that came to mind, because wisps are pretty spirits but are damned because of our naivety.
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Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 2:48 pm
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted
Name of Soquili: Zevren
Temper: Scorned
Entry
Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? One I Made Up.
Title of Legend: The Scorned Lover
Legend Details: The Scorned Lover is a young spike haired bad boy with a soft heart. He fell hard and fast for a beautiful young rich girl and began courting her. What he didn't know was that she wasn't a nice little girl after all. She had many young bad boys she strung along for the fun of it. When he found out he was furious. Taking a knife from his pocket he slit her throat and cut out her heart. Afterward he took the bloodstained key necklace from around her throat. To this day he still wears it.
Comments: Something different from the rest of the legends yet still with a familiar twist. Love and loss.
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Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 2:50 pm
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: TBD Temper: Forlorn Entry:  Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Twist on an existing Legend Title of Legend: The Gift Legend Details:
***Long ago, there lived a Native American Princess. She was the most fair of all the tribes, but yet secretly quite vain and cold-hearted. When it came time for her to take a husband, the Chief's daughter declared that she would only marry the man who could bring her the most impressive gift. The suitors could bring her anything within a week's time, by the end of which, she'd announce the winner as her husband. There was a young man of her very village, that had always admired her beauty, and remained unaware of her cruel and selfish nature. So naively, he stepped out to seek her hand in marriage: by the best gift he could give. He first labored over a shell necklace, the best he could make, but when another suitor brought her a string of pearls---he was bested. Trying a second time, the young man brought her a dress of the softest hind leather. And again, another suitor beat his present with a traded for dress from silk across the seas. In despair the young man gave up when he could not think up a third attempt at a gift to impress her.
***The man's faithful horse saw his Master shed tears and turned to the local village Shaman for help. The shaman allowed the animal to speak with the young man through his dreams, and there he told him to give himself to the Princess. That he might make the perfect gift, for he was a pure white stallion and nigh flawless; unmatched in speed and beauty. The young man did not want at first to give up his precious friend, but eventually the companion convinced him to present him to the chief's daughter. For he wanted nothing more than to see his Master happy. When morning came, the man did just that; led his faithful steed to the Princess' teepee, offering him as a gift. The Princess was impressed and told the young man she would accept the horse and to return three sunsets from that very day, for her final answer. Excited and hopeful, he gave the stallion a farewell embrace and left him in the Princess' care.
***When three sunsets time was up, he returned to the Princess, convinced he was the one who'd 'earned' her hand in marriage. But when he approached her teepee, he found her fawning over a suitor who had brought her a swan. She dismissed the young man, telling him now his stallion wasn't good enough and the swan now pleased her more. Heartbroken, the man asked for his companion back, so he could return home with the horse that offered to impress her. The Princess pointed to a post in the far distance and the man could see his stallion...starved, dehydrated, dirt ridden, disheartened and worst of all, with rope scars all up and down his neck. The appalled native unbound his steed and led him home to tend to the wounds, feed and wash him; vowing to not try again for the Princess' hand in marriage. The steed however, saw his Master cry within his teepee that night and assumed that the young man truly still wished for to love and wed the Chief's daughter. So, again, the steed went to the village Shaman and again that night, he spoke to the young man in his dreams. The stallion told him that he wanted to see him happy and would do anything to do as such. The man claimed he'd seen a flower bush, rare and unreachable by a human, and perhaps one last try with a flower from that bush...
***So the horse set out in the morning, Master still asleep, and braved dangerous cliff-sides to reach the bush. He picked out the most perfect solitary white rose and delicately returned it to the young man to give to the Princess. When presented with the rose, she turned it down; claiming she had seen a white rose and it would be the most impressive gift, if it were a red rose; her very favorite color. Feeling so close and yet so far from having won her hand in marriage, the young man trudged home to cry again, as there was no way he could produce a pure red rose for her. Unable to bear his Master's unhappiness, the stallion visited the Shaman a third time. Pleading with him to find a way to make the white rose red. The Shaman told the steed the only way to preform such a feat would be to stain it red from the blood from a pure white creature's heart. Being the only pure white creature he knew, the stallion volunteered to give his life, so that the rose would be red and the young man could marry the Princess at last. He impaled himself upon a spear, letting his heart blood stain the rose...and the Shaman left the rose and a note for the young man to find at dawn.
***Horrified at the fact his horse had given his life for his happiness, the man wept openly, his tears becoming glimmering dew upon the now-red-rose. In which he, although mournful from his loss, still presented to the Princess; if only to honor the steed who gave his life. She turned him down heartlessly, saying a she'd chosen a suitor who'd brought her loads of mined gold that would never fade and sent him away from her teepee. The man cried and cried. His friend had sacrificed himself for nothing. He owed the horse that had helped him so...he visited the Shaman, asking of any way to get his friend back. That he had nothing to live for, for he wasted everything he had trying to win a selfish Princess' admiration. The Shaman took pity on him, told him the only way to resurrect the stallion would be to give his own life. Feeling that he owned as such and had nothing more to give anything...he'd give life back to his loyal companion. With the Shaman's help, he speared his heart, giving all his blood to the passed on. But with the sorrow and the hatred for the Princess' trickery in his heart---the blood of the native corrupted the steed. And he was resurrected a monster...mutated and grieving. In revenge for his abuse, the abuse of his Master and the death of them both, the stallion took the Princess' life in her sleep and took to wandering the lands, forlorn and alone...never to believe in companionship and never to seek a companion of his own.Comments: Sorry about the checkered background. XD PHOBIA_OFGOTHAM did the edits. whee I did the story. 4laugh We are co-owning if we win. 3nodding Essentially I'm kind of posting her entry. xd And we agreed to co own. She's not a member of the guild and doesn't know much on soquili, but we really wanted to tag-team this cause it looked like fun.
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Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 4:48 pm
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Arawan Temper: Wild Entry  Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Existing Title of Legend: The Wild Hunt Legend Details: See ArticleThe Wild Hunt is an ancient folk myth prevalent across Northern, Western and Central Europe. The fundamental premise in all instances is the same: a phantasmal group of huntsmen with the accoutrements of hunting, horses, hounds, etc., in mad pursuit across the skies or along the ground, or just above it. The hunters may be the dead or the fairies (often in folklore connected with the dead). The hunter may be an unidentified lost soul, a deity or spirit of either gender, or may be a historical or legendary figure like Theodoric the Great, the Danish king Valdemar Atterdag, Woden (or other reflections of the same god, such as Alemannic Wuodan in Wuotis Heer ("Wuodan's Host") of Central Switzerland, Swabia etc.), or Arawn. Seeing the Wild Hunt was thought to presage some catastrophe such as war or plague, or at best the death of the one who witnessed it. Mortals getting in the path of or following the Hunt could be kidnapped and brought to the land of the dead. A girl who saw Wild Edric's Ride was warned by her father to put her apron over her head to avoid the sight. Others believed that people's spirits could be pulled away during their sleep to join the cavalcade. Comments: He is meant to have a wild look, a huge devilish grin like the black horse from a painting of the wild hunt. Miscellaneous wild matter are interwoven into his mane- keeping this vein of myth away from the Four Horsemen that it can sometimes be related to and closer to fairy folk.
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Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 6:37 pm
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Loup garou <-Old Indian term for 'Dogman' Temper: Misunderstood Entry  Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Existing! Title of Legend: The dogman of Michigan! <3 (my home state) Legend Details: A little brief but here i michigan a large wolf like animal that can walk on two legs, haunts the woods and usually scares folk to death. Every halloween they play the 'dogman' song on the radios. I look forward to hearing it every year. I even have a friend who saw the dogman one night in a weird circumstance while driving her car. Something flashed on her side of the car in the window, with bright yellow glowing eyes and stood as tall as the explorer itself. Here's a good site Comments: 1. Mangey Tufts of Fur. 2. Longer part of tail fur here. 3. Tufts of varying size here. 4. Fluff like draft horse stuff here. 5. Black accents to lips and nose. 6. Wounds like 'bird shot ammunition' 7. Various pink scars 8. Base color. 9. Accent fur color. 10. Eye color. 11. Tight dog collar with tag. WHOOT
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Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 7:09 pm
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Carcharodon Temper: Misunderstood Entry  Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? A mix between the two Title of Legend: White Death Legend Details: There is a story that the young and the old like to tell to each other while they are sitting in the car on their way to the white sandy beaches of San Diego. Sixty years ago, a man and his friend where snorkeling in the cool salty waters of the La Jolla Cove, hours they spent in the water, letting the sun burn their back as they gazed down at the underwater world below them. Soon, the sky grew dark as the day slowly came to an end; it was then when the two men noticed the fin. The two men tried to swim as fast as they could away from the approaching fin, but they were too slow, the Great White was upon them. It was a monster! Twenty –five feet long and weighting over four tons; black soulless eyes gazed at the men as the shark opened its large jaws. Sharp, jagged teeth grabbed on to one man’s arm and proceeded to drag him down to the dark depths of the ocean, never to be seen by his friend again. But that is not where the story ends, it is said that the man freed himself from the jaws of the massive shark and swam until he passed out from blood loss. No one knows for sure what happened to him after that, but some say that he lost his memory and wanders the country searching for someone who knows him; others believe and say (for they have seen him) that he is enjoying a nice retirement in Mexico, and the rest believe that he became a snack that fateful day sixty years ago. It is said that the shark still wanders the waters, searching for new prey and always watching the San Diego beaches, waiting for one to stray too far from the rest. The beaches are filling up, children are screaming with joy in the salty water and building sand castles; in a distance a dark figure watches, waiting patiently, for it’s almost snack time. Comments: When I was searching for Urban legends, I came across one that supposedly happened here in the 1950s and I thought it sounded interesting, especially because I now live in SD and it was hitting close to home you might say. Where I found the legend, the details were quite vague, so I set off to find more Shark Urban Myths that have to do with snorkelers, not many came up, if any. So in the end I decided to take the myth and create my own.
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Posted: Thu Oct 28, 2010 7:08 am
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Leeds Temper: Twisted. Entry  Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? An existing. Title of Legend: Jersey Devil Legend Details: Here.Comments: Happy Halloween!
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Posted: Thu Oct 28, 2010 1:25 pm
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Haast Temper: Elusive Entry Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Existing Title of Legend: Haast's Eagle Legend Details: The Haast Eagle actually did exist. Haast's Eagle (Harpagornis moorei), was a massive, now extinct eagle that once lived on the South Island of New Zealand. Also known as the Harpagornis Eagle, it was the largest eagle to have ever lived.Female Haast's Eagles weighed 10 to 15 kg (22 to 33 lb), and males weighed 9 to 10 kg (20 to 22 lb). They had a wingspan of roughly 2.6 to 3 m (8 to 10 ft) at most, which was short for a bird of the eagle's weight (the largest Golden Eagles and Steller's Sea Eagles may have a wingspan of almost the same length), but aided them when hunting in the dense forests of New Zealand. 300 years ago, however, the Haasts Eagle was officially extinct. Or is it?When european explorers returned from exploring New Zealand, they told tales of a bird so collosal it emitted a roar like that of a lion. The roarss were reported from Stewart Island as recently as 1961 and, because the animal making these nocturnal sounds was never seen, the legend of the giant eagle living on began to spread. Other suggested candidates are the New Zealand snipe, and the tui which can both imitate loud booming sounds. Many who heard the roars however, maintined to their deathbeds that what they heard was a beast that today remains a mystery, and certainly not any of the well known local bird life. Julius Von Haast himself, discoverer of Haasts Eagle and one of the first explorers of New Zealand, a scientific though open minded man, actually saw what he thought was a giant eagle gliding through thin mist in the Canterbury mountains, and a large bird that walked into his tent one night was also suggested to be a giant eagle, though Haast believed it to be in fact a small Moa, but without evidence for either of these events, Haasts kept them quite secret in fear of ridicule from his scientific peers. A noted explorer, Charles Douglas, claims in his journals that he had an encounter with two raptors of immense size in Landsborough River valley (1870s), and shot and ate them. Douglas' observations on wildlife are generally trustworthy; a more probable explanation, given that the alleged three-metre wingspan of Douglas' birds is unlikely to have been more than a rough estimate, is that the birds were Eyles' Harriers. Many important features Douglas describes do not match that of the latter bird however, and precisely match the former. In 1860 a young man traverrsing thick bush in the Canterbury Ranges was startled by the appearence of what he described as "a behemoth of a bird" which shaded him with its huge shadow. When he reached town he told his tale, and was suprised to hear that many others had experienced much the same thing. I got a story from an elderly priest (Yes, a priest) who told me that in the 1950's he lived in Otago, and would sometimes witness massive birds flying in the canopy. He was told by his teacher that the birds were predatory and should be avoided. Miss Janet McCarthy, a school teacher, was exploring caves on Mount Aspiring, when she found herself cornered by a very big bird which she estimated had a 3 metre wingspan, and was most similar to a hawk of all the birds she had ever seen. The bird surveyed her for a moment, then flew off. As it flew away, Miss Janet claimed to notice another, similarly sized bird only a few metres from the other, which also flew away. It is interesting that she derscribed the birds as Hawk like, not eagle-like which would imply the Haasts bird. This may mean the bird was in fact a different species? If she overestimated the size of the animal, it may have been a remnant Eyles' Harrier, which is more hawk-like than the giant eagle. In more recent years, fewer reports have emerged. During the summer of 1976 a group of tourist driving down the desert road noticed a giant bird with a truly incredible wingspan gliding across the dessert landscape. This report is likely a hoax, as Haasts Eagle had a relatively small wingspan in comparison to itsbody size and the desert was not its ideal choice of habitat. In the same area as Charles Douglas' encounter occured, two woman tramping were amazed at the appearence of a very large bird standing, wings tucked in, beisde a dead ram. The woman were terrified and nearly fainted when the bird opened its wings out to 3 metres and flew away. This sighting was reported in 1991. Early this year my father told me about an associate in a mountainous regoin down in the south island who claimed to see two giant birds land in the snow. He said he thought I'd be interested. In addition to the occasional sightings, Earl Jean, an ornithologist, supposedly came into possesion of an intact 3 metre wing of a bird shot down over Mount Aspiring in 1897. He decided it was that of the Haasts Eagle and began planning an expedition to find a living specimen, but died before the project was completed. I can find no information as to what became of the wing. As an interesting final note, in the parts of the South Island where giant birds have been sighted there is an slightly higher than normal amount of livestock reported missing from farms... Comments: I thought it'd be interesting to throw a New Zealand legend in here and since we couldn't have wings I improvised with leg wings lol. I also fail at drawing feathers and wings XD Not a skinwalker as he doesn't turn into the eagle and there is no pelt or anything.
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Posted: Thu Oct 28, 2010 6:27 pm
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Hollowclock Temper: insensitive Entry  Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Existing Title of Legend: Sandman~ Legend Details: Based on Sandmanbut revised with this more so. Comments: I've always had a love for the sandman legend, mostly because it can be so dark. Also sorry I new I wouldn't fair well with paint so I drew him...If you'd like I can darken him and color him. <3 Clockparts// Hair similar to this?
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Posted: Thu Oct 28, 2010 10:15 pm
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Gregory Hawk Temper: Forlorn Entry  Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Based off the Salem witch trials, made up the story :3 Title of Legend: The Hanging of HawkLegend Details: Let us go back to the dark times of the 1690's, back to the time of the Salem Witch trials. Where hysteria and suspicions brewed in the minds of the troubled population that scraped a living there. Where Isolationism and extreme religious beliefs were thought of as signs of witchery. Hypocricy reigned and folks believed anything they were told, even tales told by little children were feared as truth in those days. None were more frightened however, than those left with nothing, widows, poor folk, those who did not follow the crowd... And this, dear readers. Is where my tale is to begin. Gregory Hawk had been an orphan, his parents had died of fever when he was young, yet he had survived to live alone. Now a grown man of eighteen, he lived outside of town, having become a mute to all the world save his one friend, a hawk he had nursed back to health after he had found it wounded in the woods. He was never alone with his friend, he lived simply, gardening and making his own bread, he learned to live with his hawk and hunt with him, thus he was provided everything he needed in life...but little did he know that suspicion was growing in town, about the boy who only communicated with birds. The witch trials had swept over the barren land, seeking out those who did not fit in or just plain refused to. Gregory remained ignorant until it was too late. They took the pair while they slept, decended upon his dwelling with sticks of fire and bitter expressions on their faces. " WITCH WITCH WITCH!!" they chanted, hustling him away. He was terrified, his heart beat like a birds, his mouth moved to protest, but he could not speak, he had never been able to. He was allowed to dress in his finest, which were little more than rags compared to the rich and the judges who eagerly awaited him that day. " Have you nothing to say witch? you are to be tried immediatly and executed under suspicion of asking the devil for the gift of other tongues. How do you plead?" The judge, a rather imposing figure barked at him. Gregory looked around, his eyes wide. They did not take silence for an answer " maybe if we do away with his bird, he will gain his tongue back!" they shouted, He opened his mouth in a silent scream that mirrored the death cry of his friend as they pinned and slew the poor bird. Suddenly a terrible sound ripped it's way out of his throat, something he had never been capable of, and though it was in greivance to his poor friend, his captors all agreed that it prooved Gregory was indeed a witch, and was to be hanged posthaste. He was hanged on Gallows Hill, just a short trot from where he had called home, and left for the carrion birds to feast on (as the town folk thought it was befitting for a bird loving evilbeast) before he was put in his shallow grave, along with the broken bones of his feathered friend. Gregory Hawk rose as a ghost, deformed from his original body, now sporting talons like those of a hawk and two spiraled horns between his brows. As he never knew if he had done somethin befitting of the devil they all talked of. Fitting, he thought, for one named Hawk. As a ghost he was no longer mute, he became the horned nighthawk. Sometimes, in Salem you can hear the call of the nighthawk between the hours of 2 and 3 AM. It is the cry of Gregory Hawk. Longing for answers. Comments: I wanted to make something sort of historical, so his costume is modeled after those that were around during the 1600's. Made to be the last outfit Gregory wore. Many pictures of the Salem Witch Trials have such shirts. I wanted to make a sadder ghost, there are a lot of nasty ghots but some are held to the world due to far sadder circumstances. There were a number of men hung during the Salem Witch Trials, i created Gregory to be one of the unfortunate few. As for the hawk story, i wanted to incorperate his claws in there, he was very birdish to me and one of my cousins works with birds, i find it enormously fascinating ^^ I hope you enjoyed the story.
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Posted: Thu Oct 28, 2010 10:42 pm
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Harold Temper: Homicidal Entry  Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Existing Title of Legend: The Scarecrow Legend Details: Thomas and Alfred were two best friends. Whenever it got hot, they would take their cows up to a cool, green pasture in the mountains. Usually they stayed there with the cows all summer. The work their in the mountains was easy, but really boring. All they did was tend their cows all day. They would return to their tiny hut and night. Every night they ate supper, worked in the garden, and went to sleep. Then one day, Thomas said "Let's make a life-size doll. We can put it in the garden and use it as a scarecrow." There was a farmer they both hated named Harold, so they decided to name the doll Harold and make it look like him. They made it out of straw and gave it a pointy nose and tiny eyes, like Harold's. Day after day, they would tie Harold to a pole in the garden to scare away the birds. They brought it in the house every night. Sometimes, they would talk to it, saying things like "How's it going?" And the other would say in a weird voice "Not good." Of course, Harold wouldn't appreciate it. When they were in a bad mood, they would even curse at him or kick him. A while later, when Thomas was taking out his anger on Harold, Alfred swore he heard the doll grunt. "Did you hear that? Harold grunted!" "Impossible, he's just a sack of straw," replied Thomas. Alfred dismissed it, but they both stopped talking to it, kicking it, or even touching it, they just left him neglected in the corner of the room. After a while, they decided nothing was to be feared. Maybe a few bugs or rats were living in the straw. So they went back to their old routine. Every day, they would take it outside, and bring it back in at night. Then they even started treated him badly again. One night, Alfred noticed something that scared him. "It looks like Harold is growing." "I was thinking the same," answered Thomas. "Maybe it's just our imagination. I think the elevation is getting to us." The next morning, they saw Harold stand up and walk outstide, climb onto the roof, and he stayed there all night. In the morning, it came down and stood in the pasture. They got very scared and decided to flee. They took their cows and started heading back down for the valley. After going only a mile or so, they realized they had forgotten the milking stools. They knew they didn't have the money to replace them, so Alfred forced himself back to get them. "I'll catch up with you later. You just keep moving." After walking for a while, Thomas looked back at the hut and did not see Alfred. What he did see,however, horrified him. He saw Harold, on the roof of the hut, stretching out a bloody piece of flesh to dry in the sun. Comments: Still a WIP, but I figured to go ahead and post it now before I miss out on the contest. If i don't have another chance to work on it still..I'd also imagine him having a decent amount of bloodstains everywhere
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Posted: Fri Oct 29, 2010 12:59 am
THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE twisted Name of Soquili: Sel'dor [Meaning: Black Pain]
Temper: Nefarious/Vicious/WILL DECIDE LATER. :B
Entry
Is this an existing Legend or a new one you have invented? Kinda bit of both.
Title of Legend: Darrokken
Legend Details: He's based off the demon dogs in C. L. Wilson's quintet series. They only make a few short appearances, but they're vicious, "foul wolf-beasts with oozing sores upon their backs. Their saliva is pure poison, and they have no concept of the meaning of mercy".
They're demonic beasts kept and summoned by those that are only truly evil.
It was always meant to be a bogey tale, something to scare the foals to bed. But there were some that knew, just as Skinwalkers existed, that the Darrokken existed as well. That they were terrible, horrible beasts--worse than some Kalona, even, though they couldn't quite match the ferocity of Purewalkers.
Ravenous, merciless, fel beasts that lived to slaughter anything they could. Some called them heartless. Some called them misunderstood. Everyone was fearful. Everyone spoke of them in whispers.
Poisonous drool, stinking hides, poisonous barbs. Glowing eyes. Unkempt appearance.
They were wild, uncontrollable animals with no regard for another being.
They were unleashed - supposedly, though this part was never true - upon those who had sinned, those who had broken rules or stepped outside tradition in some cases.
Slavering, they hunted in packs at times, though they quickly destroyed one another just as they destroyed those unsuspecting individuals they came across. Their spines were movable; they hid them amongst the unruly hair that travelled down their spines, and partway down their tails. Barbs near the end of their tales that were covered in tangled, wild hair ensured deep, painful wounds, that would continue to bleed. The poison coating them was less potent than the first, but just as horrible to feel. Taloned feet would rend, ripping flesh asunder.
They delighted in killing. Were masters of quiet stealth, creeping, stalking, pouncing, howling, roaring. They leaped with unSoquili-like grace, able to decimate villages upon whims if they fancied it.
It was said they were magical. That they could cloak themselves and boost their strength, intelligence, speed, and whatever else they fancied. Some even said they could fly! ...nobody had ever gotten close enough to find out...and nobody that got close enough returned alive.
Terrible "beautiful" killers.
Get to bed, children, before the Darrokken come to eat you!
[Largely winging it, it can be refined later.]
Comments:
He should have a darker base, it doesn't make sense for him to be white if he's prowling in the dark; his stomach and some of the inside of his legs should be a cream-light-brown, majority of his body should be a very dark, charcoal-y-brown, and his back should be charcoal, fairly dark.
The green markings on his body represent tribal marks; "marks of power" that 'give' him strength, fleet-footedness, stealth, and numerous other things. I don't think they should match the current markings, I find them a bit plain. These will either be in glowingFel, Infernal Green or in a glowing range of fiery colours [red, orange, yellow hues].
His spikes and horns should have these markings, as well, at least mostly on the base; especially on the horns.
The spots on his back, as well as his front horn should have blood; decided to change to blood from ooze, just because it kinda...bothered me.
There should be a small amount of drool dripping from his mouth, as well. It doesn't have a colour, just a clear saliva will do.
I couldn't get the barbs on his shoulders to look good, either; maybe higher up, or left out all together.
Eyes should glow, with slitted pupils. Angry, growling expression, exposing his fangs. Longer ears, all the better to hear with. I'm undecided on this part, too, but possible ram horns, to be an "in between" of his horns and the spikes upon his back/tail/back of his legs. Hair, overall, is ragged, uneven, but not exactly a rat's nest. There's an eerie sleekness to it.
Scarring--this guy's been through a lot of scuffles. Scars are welcome.
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![[+Katch+]'s avatar](https://a1cdn.gaiaonline.com/dress-up/avatar/ava/ed/68/59b1b405168ed_flip.png?t=1465766144_6.00_11)
