The Tale Of Cyns
A white mare stood camouflaged in a field of snow, the rider on its back just a speck of black amongst the drifts. Catching her rider's mood, the mare stood silent and sober as the wind gently played with its mane and tail. The rider, a young elf was staring down at the icy stream that slowly cut its path through the snow, and slipped unseen under the mountains.
There was an angry look on her fine elven features, as well as a look of contemplation. Her eyes followed the shards of drifting ice down the stream and came to rest on a miniature castle nestled right there in the small pool of the frozen rivulet and a look of unmistakable hurt and pain crept across her face.
The castle captured her, as it was the first time she could bring herself to look at it since... Since she woke up that morning and knew that everything was wrong. It was as if she could sense the laughter that was so familiar, just on the verge of her hearing, yet now it was mocking her. She had been betrayed. Forcing back tears, she took in a deep breath and let the cool crisp air fill her lungs. Cyns let her mind draw her into her memories, eager to walk down that journey she had taken so long ago.
She had been with family and friends. They had broken into the sacred temple of the Dragons and waged war against them, challenging any that stood before them. Brave and steadfast the warriors were, Cyns stood in their midst as they even sought to challenge Vulaak, and quite possibly Veeshan herself. But this is not a tale of Dragons and Heros, her mind did not waver down that path. It was 
there, before Vulaak's very chamber that she first laid eyes on the castle that was now drowning at her feet. It was hidden, buried almost magically in the corner of a great hallway, but Cyns was transfixed by it. It had called out to her and drew her in, even though all she could see was the very top of the highest castle peek. She reached out to touch it, and it absorbed her. Her breath caught in her throat as this new and mystical world sucked her in, and she opened her eyes to find herself standing atop a glowing blue platform. It hummed sweetly to her, as she looked about herself to see a beautiful forest, and huge mushrooms hiding behind the trees peaking out to look back at her. And that was when she heard the laughter. Although distance still, and a bit muffled, it tingled down her spine as she looked beyond the trees to try and find the source, and she saw the castle. Big, beautiful, and inviting.
Joy filled her heart as she realized she had finally found the fabled Plane of Mischief, home of Fizzlethorpe Bristlebane, the king of thieves. It was, by far, the happiest moment in her life. To think of dragons, giants or gods at that time was simply laughable. It was all so passe compared to the wonder and amazement that was before her. The others that had been drawn in with her, a wizard, an enchanter, and her little sister, all agreed. Each one of them made this their new home and vowed to never change it.
Days went by as they explored together, meeting new smiling faces and oddities that just could never be replaced in all of Norrath or any other land Cyns had ever or ever would see. The sphinxes taught her how to dance, the gorillas gave her library cards, and she fished a deck of playing cards out of the moat. Petunia the doll was always so pretty, and the treasure chests always so ridiculous, especially the one out in the forest that had hafflings dancing for him. She played the oddest game of chess, then walked on the ceiling as if she was Alice in Wonderland. On those quiet days, she would just stroll through the garden and play cards with Ferjeneror.
But the most amazing thing was the puppet show that Bristlebane himself attended. He had puppets of the great Tribunal, and the beautiful Erollisi Marr, as well as the terrifying Innoruuk, Solusek Ro, and Rallos Zek. There was even a puppet of her own mother Tunare and of Bristlebane himself! Yet the puppet of Cazic Thule never came out to play, and Bristlebane became disgruntled and left the show unfinished, sending the audience home and leaving them with nothing more to see.
That thought brought her back to the present, and she noticed that the gray skies above her had opened up to let the snow fall. The flakes drifted down, landing cold upon her face and mingled with the tears she didn't realize she had shed till she wiped them both away. She cried because her home was gone now, and the sky cried with her. Bristlebane had become possessed, but by what god or tyrant she didn't know, yet he had destroyed the home she had lived in and loved for so long. As painful as it was for her just being evicted, there was more. Petunia and Posie were evicted as well, but it was not as easy for them as for her. She could walk back on Norrath, but they could not. They were simply... gone. Along with Ferjeneror, Chuckles, and Debbis. Sniffles and Stomples, Reaser and Ratmlet, and the great LosCountAhAhAh. All of them gone, just vanished into nothing. She mourned for them, as she felt her heart breaking inside her. She mourned for them all.
She mourned that there was still so much that could have been done that she would never get the chance to do. So much to be finished, yet it was all 
destroyed. Her home over run by angry creatures, that only wanted to kill and maim those that would step foot into what was once the greatest plane of existence. Her stomach turned as the thoughts invaded her mind, and she knew it was either go back to the boring wars against the dragons and gods, or sheath her scimitar for good and waste away in Kelethin. She wanted to scream in rage, fall off her horse and beat her fists against the cold ground, cry out to the gods and demand it all be put back, that Bristlebane have his sanity restored and give her back her home. Yet she sat silent on her steed and blinked back the tears.
In the moments that passed next, another elf magically appeared just a few paces away from her, and Cyns watched him disorientated stumble a few steps in the snow. He finally saw the castle sitting frozen in the water, snow building up around it, and then he turned to look at her. His green eyes met her red rimmed blue, and Cyns gave him a slight shake of her head. His eyes brimmed with tears as the realization hit him that it was all gone. They had known in their hearts the changes would be coming, but none of their prayers had been answered. More would come, hundreds, maybe thousands, to this very point before the changed castle, just the same as Cyns and this male elf had. He fell to his knees, and sat in the ice and snow, just staring into his lap. He mourned just the same as she did, but she couldn't stay and watch his heart breaking too, and she knew she couldn't wait for the others. There wasn't anything she could do for them, no comfort to be head in their misery.
Softly to herself, Cyns muttered the words to open up a gateway to the plane of Knowledge and urged her mare through it, the other elf never even looking up to watch her go. As she rode her horse through the town, slowly making her way towards the portal to the plane of Tranquility, she watched all the people that she passed. They didn't notice her, never gave her a second glance, yet she felt sorry for them. Most of them would never know the wonder, feel the amazement that she had gotten to experience. Oblivious to it all, they lived out their life so mundane, and that in itself was another break in her heart.
She rode the mare around for awhile in Tranquility, trying to find a new place suitable for her to rest her head, yet it was pointless. Nothing would ever be so great as what she had. She finally dismounted and cast the spell that would bind her soul to a small patch of grass on the side of a hill. Then she sat and tears swelled in her eyes again as she drifted into prayer. She didn't pray just to Tunare, but to Bristlebane, and to all the other gods and tyrants she could think of to pray too, to give the world of Norrath back the greatness that it had lost.
To give us all back the Plane of Mischief.
Written by Cyns D'Vyne of Erollisi Marr