Venturo The Artist

[Fiddlesticks]

The Smuggler's Hole

(Written in an intricately decorated sketchbook marked "Coastal Impressions")

The lantern shone on the looming cliff..and a blue flash answered from the skiff..
There on the sand and some on the waves...Stood the smuggler Rew and his band of knaves.
Rew's gang was known across the coast..for skullduggery..the smugglers boast!


But the curse of Smuggler Rew's life (besides a harridan of an ex-wife)
Was his nemesis named Dorian Bram...A towering and ruthless Exciseman.
Prone to profanity and reckless action, Bram was Smuggler Rew's distraction...
Rew's despairing daughter oft would say "Be careful Da, he'll win someday!"


On this night, Bram hadn't far to go..When Rew's gang brought in their cargo.
As to the contraband they greedily peered, Officers and their horses appeared!
Crates fell in water, grim faces set in dread..The scoundrels took to their heels and fled!



Rew scampered onto his bay mare and rode like a man without a care,
Bram cursed, and he pursued his prey, determined Rew'd not get away...
but Bram's horse in stamina did lack and soon the horse was falling back
The Exciseman uttered another curse and cried
"Take my soul for a fleet-footed ride!"
Then he noticed a strange officer riding by, on a coal black horse with a blazing eye
"Done!" The officer gave but his eyes were cold and the Exciseman did as he was told.


Over cliff and dune and path and field, the chase was on but Rew would not yield!
Bram's savage horse at his heels nipped and the bay mare's energy was stripped...
Rew took a throwing dagger from many more and aimed at Bram's horse to even the score...
Rew drew back his arm and the dagger flew, but instead of a hit it passed right through!
Rew swore and believed that he could see that horse grin with malicious glee.



Another dagger Rew took out and aimed at the man this time with a hateful shout
"Devils take thee" The smuggler did not see a sheer drop off the cliff ahead of he!
Rew, the bay mare with Bram and his horse clashed, and down upon the jagged rocks they dashed.


There the officers found..bodies three...badly mangled, broken and bloody...
No sight nor sound beyond each corpse, was found of that accursed black horse.
Soon the tale took on more resolve as when the night is dark and the winds are cold...
Smuggler Rew's ghost is locked in eternal flight and travelers shiver at the sight
Where Bram's soul went, folk did not see
but guess he's somewhere he's not meant to be.


Of the tale the old folk living by Smuggler's Hole, tell wisely not to offer your soul.
For you do not know who's listening near, what fell powers might surely hear...
they add that sometimes obsession runs too deep
so always, ALWAYS look..before you LEAP.


 
Venturo, The Artist.

[Fiddlesticks]

Brother Longtail

(The Magpie of the Old Temple)

*accompanied by woodcut prints*


In the north, a city old and fair,
Stood a temple, ornate beyond compare,
With silver towers reaching towards the sky,
Its glory known both far and wide!



Within those walls, where saints were praised, a clever magpie dwelled, quite unamazed
A jolly bird with a heart full of jest
He made his home there where he loved to rest.
His feathers black and white - like Selune in the midnight sky
His beady eyes both quick and sly,
He perched upon the altar high,
where candles flickered, casting shadows nigh.

The magpie watched with curious grace, as monks knelt down with solemn face
They chanted hymns and prayed - so devout -  while he observed, perched thereabout.

One fateful day, mischief did ensue, a pompous High Priest arrived - in robes of somber hue,
To celebrate in mass, so pious and divine, the magpie chose that moment to shine.




He swooped from his perch, in bold display, and plucked the High Priest's ring away
With merriment cawed and wings unfurled, he incurred the laughter of the world!

Thus, the ring of office was lost, the High Priest was in despair
He searched the temple, his eyes a-glare
The laughing magpie perched upon his sacred throne, he'd boldly claimed it as his own!


News spread fast throughout the land, of the spirited bird, so daring and grand
He became a legend, a symbol of glee
In the beautiful city, Brother Longtail's reign, would be.
The gods smiled down and made their pleasure known
when the High Priest came to retire
- the magpie would stay upon his seat and make his nest within the spire.



Years passed by, and the bird grew very old, His feathers tarnished but his spirit stayed bold
The gods granted a gentle death
His monastic friends made a decree, so given to honor his mischievous spree.
The magpie was buried, in solemn rite, a great procession - a beautiful sight
A fine stone was placed, to mark his fame, with "Brother Longtail" as his eternal name.

Up above fly Brother Longtail's playful kin, still living at the temple there and by
They still fly around and thereabout, with moon and midnight feathers and quick, sly eye.
If you should have a holy ring, one you don't want to lose, keep it safe if you so choose
or gift it, see if the magpies are impressed
and by the gods..with wisdom, you just might be blessed.

[Fiddlesticks]

Grey Fleet

It was ancient land torn by poverty and war..

Conflict had born a vile soul...A greedy and malicious man.

Named Baron Rion De Cole...

The Baron's temper was cruel and quick..His face as ugly as his manner...His company so unbearable...

None but sellswords bore his banner

A "friend" of the King, some would say crony..

He'd murdered an innocent man he'd fought..and begged a royal pardon he had got...

Though others would have said, he bought.

Unknown to him, divine eyes were set..

Upon this unholy mean-spirited man..

A goddess watched and she weaved with strands of fate..

For him, a fitting plan.

The Baron had a faithful horse named Fleet.

.A handsome grey, an even tempered steed..

The Baron treated the beast without a care and only thought of his own need.

One day upon the lonely highway they rode, Fleet threw a shoe beside a darkwood tree...The intemperate fool let out a curse

...struck poor Fleet and dismounted to go see..

"BARON!" A voice came out of the gloom..He looked and saw an ancient crone...She shook her fist "Treat your world with respect! Heed and repent!..." Warning in her tone..

"Or within the year Fleet will be your death!'

The Baron startled, roundly swore..But as he looked around and looked again..The seer had gone, he was alone once more.

The Baron considered her words, he thought and came..

To evil conclusion and as he went...

Home, he summoned a slaughter man..

And to death, poor Grey Fleet was sent..

"Devils take me, he'll not be my end!" The odious man spat and swore "Into the ground he'll go to his, first...I'll bury him to be sure!"

The goddess watched and in her tears..

She whispered to the grey horse "Come..

If you are willing and your spirit able..

Gentle noble horse...I would be honored..if you'd join my eternal stable"

So followed seasons of nightmares and dread..

After he buried Grey Fleet under his own grass, the Baron could watch and be certain..the witch's prophecy would not come to pass.

The Baron could find no rest in sleep..

He'd close his eyes and see the spectral grey...Looming in dreams, thundering hooves..With a laughing, braying neigh.

Close by year's eve, he went to the grave..

Scoffed, he stomped uneven soil and root "Didn't kill me!" He sneered and kicked hard...

But then felt a sharp pain in his foot.

Looking down the Baron searched and found, A horse's tooth, year- long decayed..

Embedded in his foot's arch from the kick..through cloth boot, in broken skin, it stayed

Within a day the inflammation raged...

Shunned by help, the Baron took to his bed...Fever high and with poisonous blood...Visions of Fleet swarmed in his head...

Sweating, unrepentant, trembling in pain, he cursed towards his final breath..as the crone had spoken, a year to the day..

The dark Baron met his predicted death

Where the grass is sweet and time stands still..A spirited grey plays without a care, a woman laughs upon the wind

And there is no darkness there.