Friday, November 2, 2012

Simply Saturday: The Hinterlands of Georgeskeep

The nefarious reputation of the hinterlands lives in the heart and soul of every inhabitant of the tiny town of Georgeskeep. Callieach the nightmare, with her fiery hooves races along the hill and dales, breathing fear into the air. Under the golden glow of the full moon, the trouping fairies dance in their parade through the sleeping petals of the meadow. Ne’er be caught upon a moonlit night when the fae are about their business, lest you find yourself in a fairy ring ne’er to return to the land of the living.

Trickery is afoot in the hinterlands with the coming of the Púca. Be it a fine November 1st eve, then all is well within the hinterlands, as this is the day of the Púca. Kindness he will afford you, if kindness in return is found. Beware to leave the Púca’s share or suffer you all the more. When on the berries lies the frost, the Púca has there spit. Be well to tell the child, lest they eat of Púca berries and find their self at the bottom of the grave’s lonely pit.
Along the trail of dust and dirt that leads into the forest dark, wherein lives a wicked witch tending to her herbs and pot. Dare you not to keep a house too clean for the resident guest of a Bean Tighe shall surely be accused, and you a charmer’s muse. Let there be dust upon the window ledge and at the hearth’s edge too, then no accusation shall come upon one such as you.
When the bitter fingers of the winter shall come upon the land, beware to hear the howling wind. The Bansidhe’s clarion call can be heard above the wind and all. She calls forth the Coiste Bodhar and beckons you therein. “There is naught to be done about it now. Your time has come,”says the Sidhe. And off you go to the netherworlds, nevermore to be seen.
 
The inhabitants of Georgeskeep, they know these stories well and more. The light that shines upon the window ledge, in the dark of night, bids fond hellos to the benevolent, and bids bane to those of dark. Take care upon your visit to our fair Georgeskeep. If you shall wander in under the shadows of the eve, knock loud upon the door, your voice through the cracks to be heard, or you may find yourself at the mercy of those who live within the hinterlands until the morning sun.
 
I hope you enjoyed this little venture into the hinterlands of old.  Have a simply wonderful Saturday one and all.