Post by jamesbunnyman on Feb 23, 2024 13:47:53 GMT -5
The pooka who currently claims to be named 'James' was making some new wards. Putting protections on buildings, it had been a while sense had done these and was now doing two in one day! He enjoyed the job with a mixture of novelty (due it being so long sense he had done it) and familiarity (due to having done it so often before). If someone with an untrained eye was watching him...well it looked like he was drawing a strange arcane pattern on the floor while chanting a ritual in a sing song voice.
Someone with a trained eye in mortal magics might be frustrated that he seems to be doing it all wrong. That circle looks more like a spellweaving circle than a ward, while there's paturns and shapes, there's practically no runes, and that ritual chant is obviously some sort of nursery rhyme!
Someone with the gift of Fae sight could see that there is glamour at play, and whatever nonsense the pooka is doing, it looks to be working perfectly.
The rabbit-like hobgoblin however, merrily works on the circle as he sings the little poem, infusing his magic into the building:
Sweet babe! a golden cradle holds thee,
And soft the snow-white fleece enfolds thee;
In airy bower I'll watch thy sleeping,
Where branchy trees to the breeze are sweeping.
Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!
When mothers languish broken-hearted,
When young wives are from husbands parted,
Ah! little think the keeners lonely,
They weep some time-worn fairy only.
Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!
Within our magic halls of brightness,
Trips many a foot of snowy whiteness;
Stolen maidens, queens of fairy--
And kings and chiefs a sluagh-shee airy,
Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!
Rest thee, babe! I love thee dearly,
And as thy mortal mother nearly;
Ours is the swiftest steed and proudest,
That moves where the tramp of the host is loudest.
Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!
Rest thee, babe! for soon thy slumbers
Shall flee at the magic koelshie's numbers;
In airy bower I'll watch thy sleeping,
Where branchy trees to the breeze are sweeping.
Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!
And soft the snow-white fleece enfolds thee;
In airy bower I'll watch thy sleeping,
Where branchy trees to the breeze are sweeping.
Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!
When mothers languish broken-hearted,
When young wives are from husbands parted,
Ah! little think the keeners lonely,
They weep some time-worn fairy only.
Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!
Within our magic halls of brightness,
Trips many a foot of snowy whiteness;
Stolen maidens, queens of fairy--
And kings and chiefs a sluagh-shee airy,
Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!
Rest thee, babe! I love thee dearly,
And as thy mortal mother nearly;
Ours is the swiftest steed and proudest,
That moves where the tramp of the host is loudest.
Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!
Rest thee, babe! for soon thy slumbers
Shall flee at the magic koelshie's numbers;
In airy bower I'll watch thy sleeping,
Where branchy trees to the breeze are sweeping.
Shuheen, sho, lulo lo!