Cartographies and Colonies

The Wild Hunt

I want a pony

The Goldberg Family Faire is the Chama for the Green Isle. In Mboshu, the Chama happens at the center of all things, Mji, where the Greatmother stands guard and the Maw’s fangs are strong. If they weren’t under the eyes of the Greatmother, goodness knows the Great Tribes would never keep peace. Well Elfhame is the Mji of this place, the supposed center of all things where this Rilian fellow built his dens and all the Taya of the pale asshole elves keep the laws. But the Chama is held on the Goldbergs estate instead, many days sailing north of Elfhame. Here is what I think – the Goldbergs are in fact at the center of all things. They are not like the Taya, they are like pirates. They operate from behind the scenes and keep a paw in every dealing. I like them. And as much as they’re trying to keep order, this Chama is mayhem. I am having the best time.

First of all, there was a murder. Some slip of an elf managed to murder Ghinjo. There must have been magic involved, because I’ve seen this woman, and she never could have killed Ghinjo fairly. There is no political advantage in blaming her for Ghinjo’s death and handing her over to the Pele, however. Me, I think we should say the Seelie Court did it. There was blood and hair found at their tents. It may be this Ada Lovelace was working for them. Even if she wasn’t, they are weak rulers, totally unable to drive the evil drow from their tunnels. Their gods are probably as lazy as they are. It is all this peaceloving and “fair trade” that has let them get the hold in Mboshu they have. Enough of that. We should topple them. A civil war would be the easiest thing to start, and in the Chaos we would find out who wielded true strength. Vek’d thinks he could become Maw of this place. Ha! I’d love to see him try.

I slept through Ghinjo’s funeral. I’ve slept through my share of ceremonies, but this time it wasn’t even on purpose! I was having a vivid dream, sent straight from Mad Jenny’s blue eye, where I rode the most fantastic beast. One of Aisling’s skinny buffalo, but it was black as the greatmother’s hide, with flaming red eyes and hooves, and fast as the wind over the sea. I led a great howling of gnolls behind me, down down through the tunnels of the Green Isle, stealing all the drow children from their dens. Mad Jenny’s omens are only prophetic if we make them so. I mean to make this one the truth! The very beast from my dream came at the head of a storm – the Wild Hunt Rueben says – and everyone was in a panic. Stupid Vek’d was trying to kill the beast, just because it’s evil, but I knew Mad Jenny meant for me to have it. I tried all my charm on it, and it turned blue as my own right eye! I rode it. I told it to fly, and it flew! Think of the airships I could board and pillage if I had such a mount.

But it was not to be. The darned thing bowed to sister Nafu – I have heard of her whatever she calls herself these days – who spoke in the voice of mad jenny. And it DISAPPEARED. Very disappointing. Now that I know such things exist, I will not rest till I have one of my own.

The good news is that war may already be upon us. The Unseelie court has made their move. The Wild Hunt rides. And Mad Jenny says that we can STEAL IT. I have never stolen a howling mad army before. After such a heist, they will surely call me the Queen of Pirates.

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folkenwolf

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