Jack The Pumpkin King
5'5 black hair, green eyed half elf
Half elf bard with a friendly white ferret, snuggling in his knapsack looking for pellets. plays merrily tunes where needed, and loathsome ones when dire. speaks in a funny manor, always sings to his desire. will tell you of Argonia if you ask, even if you don’t he will make it his task.
Brown waterproof cloak, woodland garbs with a flash of yellow and purples. A crown made from a pumpkin resides on his head.
Jack the Pumpkin King of Argonia
I found Argonia quite by accident. I had been walking for a few hours when I came upon a grove of Ash trees, grey as ash. Groves were not uncommon in these lands, certainly not of Ash trees. I’ve seen many groves in my 3 years of travel. So I entered the grove to relax, collect myself and meditate. I’m not sure how long it was until I fell asleep, but I did. And when I awoke the sky was the first thing I noticed. It wasn’t dark blue, or black or any normal color you would find in the evening. It was pink, purple, red and yellow. And the trees, they seemed to triple in size, height, girth and numbers. So off I go to find out where I am, where my home was, and what happened to me.
At least I have two things still known to me. The first is my family instrument, my hurdy gurdy. Its sound and melody is still strong and captivating. Second is Zero, my albino ferret, who I found as a baby and has adopted me as his parent, or family. He is my best friend, my companion and I don’t know what I would do without him. We have been through much, him and I. conversations, travels love and war. But I digress; there are important matters at stake.
I gather my things, and zero climbs up on my shoulder and we take off. Exploring my surroundings is quite enthralling, peaceful for not knowing where I am. I’ve been traveling for hours it seems, but the sky hasn’t changed a bit since I arrived. No sunset, no sunrise, the temperature hasn’t gotten colder as one would expect at night, and the sky colors are still the same as I first saw them. I have seen signs of life at least. Animals that you would normally find in the woods, but also some I have never seen before. A snake that is 30 feet long, about 2 feet wide, I don’t know if it saw me as food or what, but it stared at me like no other. Beetles, bigger than my head fought over decaying wood, carcasses and other rubbish in the undergrowth.
Just when I seem to think that there are no signs of civilization I see it. I have travelled almost a day to my best recollection and the sight is not what I expect to see. The trees, the massive trees have homes in them. Not up in the air like the elves I know use, but actually inside the tree itself. These ginormous trees are shaped, molded to make buildings, storage units, shops and stables. The trunks seem to be 100 feet wide at least, easily allowing many people in at once. This could not be the Feywild as I first believed; this seems some place entirely different. As I head to this, city is too small of a word to describe it; I start to see the residents of this place. Humonoid in form, but not humans, or even elves for that matter. Multi colored skin ranging from green to yellow, hair mixed with mud and twigs, and sporting clothes made from, tree fibers? As i later will come to find out, they are called The Nox.
They don’t seem to be staring at me for my clothes, or the fact that a stranger is here, but something worse or better I have yet to find out. Being the stranger in a strange land, I take out my hurdy gurdy, who I have named Sally, my first girlfriend, and play a calm and peaceful tune so they know that I mean no harm. While I have no intention of enthralling them it does seem to do just that. For once I start to play, they all get up and dance, laugh and sing to the music, and slowly but surely usher me towards the center most tree in the area.
As I reach the entrance everyone comes around and I finish playing. Their leader, or wise one, brings me inside the Tree along with the other elders and begins to tell me a tale. They are speaking in a language that I have never heard before, nor one that I even know but yet I understand them just as well as you are reading this.
“There is a prophecy, that tells of a traveler who does not belong to this land. He comes with a snow demon, white fur and red eyes. (My ferret Zero). His coming has been passed down to the wise ones for centuries. It tells that when he comes, he will leave again, but to help the small ones of hollowton the city of the pumpkin dwellers, the brownies”.
You can imagine me laughing hysterically and think this is all just a dream I’m having, but the seriousness in his voice, and the intent stares I am getting makes me do the opposite. I keep my mouth shut and listen.
“They are in need of a savior, a hero, and a king. When you go to help them you will belong. Down in the south, in a glade surrounded by water is a field. This field has pumpkins the size of boulders in it. For these are the homes of the brownies, in Hollowton that need your help. We have tried to save them many times, but are only temporarily successful. You Jack of Argonia must save them!! Seek out the MadCap, you will find answers.”
As soon as he is done, I’m ushered out of the Tree. I’m given rations, and tools, whatever I need for the journey. South I go, in search of this pumpkin field with brownies? I don’t even know what they are or who they are but they need my help, and I’m not one to let natures’ little creatures be killed. As I journey south, I begin to realize that time is either really slow passing or nonexistent here. But I figure out that is extremely slow at passing, for the farther south I get it slowly become darker shades of pink, purple, and yellow. And just as I’m about to stop for a rest, I see it. The land of Hollowton, home of the brownies.
And that is when I see the first sign of trouble that I need to deal with. The creatures that are attacking and destroying the brownies are wolves? But they are seemingly made of smoke!! Smoke? What in the world are these things? These beasts are of a colorful smoke, not your grey or black, but blue, purple, and gold smoke coming from their hind ends like tails, or tracks. As they run, and kill they seem to drop some thick liquid that is the same color as their smoke. What do I do!!!??
I take out Sally, and zero knows what he has to do, he climbs up in my back for shelter, and I begin to play. I start low, but deep enough to get them to stop and look in my direction. I whisper words, “focus on me, come to me” as my tune grows louder and forceful. It a captivating tune that I’m playing, one that has gotten even the most ferocious beast back home to calm down. Leave these creatures alone, submit to my song, as I begin to gain their allegiance I tell them to walk south until their paws bleed, and then to keep walking. I continue to play until they are all out of sight before I stop.
Zero then pokes his head out from my pack and nibbles my ear. I proceed into the village, glade? To meet these brownies. They come out, once the wolves are gone, still scared and cautious so I once again, play a soft comforting tune of healing and help. They see my instrument, they see Zero, and they bow quicker than you can say hi. They all fall down to the ground in front of me. The leader of the brownies comes out and speaks to me once again in a language that I shouldn’t know, but I do now.
“You, you have the music? Who you? You have white demon?” he says this in a non-fearful way but that of respect and wonder. “Me gorug, shaman to brownies. You saved us, king!” Gorug then presented me with a crown, a pumpkin crown enchanted so it will never decay, rot, or smell or anything like it normally would, as a sign of my leadership and royalty to these denizens.
After many, many years of fighting of these vapor wolves, I’ve named them, and finding the source of their creation, even figuring out how to make some of my own, we finally have some peace. As the night drew on and I lay in my bed, surprisingly big enough for me in a giant of a pumpkin, zero curled up by my head, I sleep. I awake in the morning, in my own grove back home. Was it all a dream? I ask myself, no, it couldn’t be. I still have my pumpkin crown. I must find that grove again; I’ve tried sleeping here in the ash grove but to no avail. Everyone I meet and ask about it, they call me crazy, and insane, mad even. I have to find them, there is still saving to be done. As I am filled with wanderlust, I realize that I have yet to find or meet the MadCap. Who or what is it? Where is it? I must find it.