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The Boy of the Whispering Forest

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Deep in the woods once lived a man, a man with three eyes and a sickening grin, he feasted on wood and sand, and wore the skins of travelling men. This man was Lorp, Lorp of the Whispering Forest.

Beware the Lorp, I say to the travelling merchant or trader, night is only as tranquil when it hears no screams.

Young travelling boy, go back from where you came, the forest needs not the wails of another. Young travelling boy, return to your loved ones, brother, sister, and mother.

The Lorp treads quick, and surely he walks. His mumbles and grunts are heard in even the deepest of the deep woods.

Beware, travelling boy, the Lorp will find his prey…

Young I am, boy I am not. I’ve slain wolves, bears, and legendary beasts! The Lorp will be but another to fall by my blade!

The woods will whisper for ages to come of my victory, they will speak and speak of the night the Lorp had fallen. I’ve trained with blade, arrow, and shield, this warrior will not leave the forest until it’s beast stands no longer.

He does not know, this young lad, of those who fought before he. Old Ramlen of the Winter Stones, and Jayrious of Morralee.

The three-eyed beast needs not care, for wolves he’s slain a plenty.

We hear the swift and angry pace of this beast’s heavy run… beware, O boy, the Lorp has almost come. The Lorp is no mere man, a bear headed beast with three eyes and a grin the size of an arm.

He feels no pain nor pleasure, no remorse or regret. Beware, young boy, of the battle you will soon get.

A new hunt, say I, a new prey. I’ve picked my fangs with the swords of knights, and sucked the marrow of mages.

These young men come to kill, yet they lack any skill. How dare they challenge me? I have hunted for ages!

The Whispering Forest will shriek in pain, when I rip the flesh off this fool’s bones. Blades, swords, and arrows are no match for my prowess!

O beast! I have found you in this pitch black wild! Pray to your beings that your fall will be as swift as your run!

And with those words the beast and the warrior fought till dawn broke night, and nothing was left but the headless body of a once fearsome beast. No need to fear, O children, for the Lorp is long dead.

All that remains of him are the bones of his once mighty three eyed head. So rejoice forever! O men and women, for the beast will no longer devour your children!

Celebrate and give thanks, to the old man who once risked his life and his blade… for the good of a safe town and a beautiful wood…

As goes the legend of the Boy of the Whispering Forest.





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