The Nevartell
From Changeling Venue
Up at Piccadilly, oh!
The coachman takes his stand,
And when he meets a pretty girl
He takes her by the hand;
Whip away forever, oh!
Drive away so clever, oh!
All the way to Bristol, oh!
He drives her four-in-hand.
| Seeming | Fairest Shadowsoul |
|---|---|
| Court | Autumn Court •• |
| Freehold | none |
| Player | JT Tremaine |
Keeper: The Coachman
Seeming: Fairest
Court: Autumn
Entitlement: Magisters of the Wax Mask
Motley/Freehold: None
Character Livejournal: Coming Soon!
Information Known by Changeling Society
O nce upon a time there was a man, a lawyer to be exact, who was unhappy with his lot in life. Day in and day out he helped murderers and general miscreants of society to escape the long arm of the law. He found loopholes and technicalities that allowed the dregs of society to be freed upon an unsuspecting populace. This man's name was Gideon Crane, son of a wealthy Lawyer, the head Partner of the Crane Lawfirm. He was born into a privilaged life, never wanting for a thing. His life though was hollow, empty. His escape, was books. He read like a man posessed. He read fables, he read myths, he read fiction, he read non-fiction. His favorite though, were fables with moral implications, Aesops and Grimms among others.
One stormy night while he was reading late at night in the library, he heard a sound different than the thunder that rang through the halls, the sound of a cracking coachwhip. Gideon rose with a start and began investigating the sound. He came upon the great hall of fables where a great archway stood. The archway, built into the ceiling was one that Gideon had passed under hundreds of times, but this night the archway was foreboding and dark. Gideon stepped cautiously forward. Thunder struck somewhere in the distance. Was it thunder, or the coachwhip... maybe both, maybe neither. He shook himself back to reality. "It's just the storm." he kept telling himself. Yet, as he stepped forward the ground seemed to move with him. He smelled sweetness, candies and confections. He heard the light clopping of horses hooves on cobblestone. "Just someone passing by outside." he told himself. If only that were true.
He stepped forward once again, passing fully under the archway, and found himself in a strange place. The sky was purple, lit by an impossibly large moon that almost seemed to be staring down at him. The grass was grey and tipped with razorblades. Dead trees lined the pathway he stood upon, bent inwards as if they could snatch a traveler from the path. He heard an approaching carriage and moved to the side of the path in an attempt to hide, but the razor sharp long grass cut him as he tried. He cried out in pain and tried his best to remain unseen on the side of the path as he saw a dark shape coming swiftly toward him.
The Coachman, a grotesque mixture of man and machine moved quickly down the path and diretly toward Gideon. The carriage that made up the majority of the Coachman's "body" thundered toward him. A manequin sat in the seat driving the coach cracking a whip every few seconds urging on four half decayed steeds, with pinprick yellow eyes and breathing flame. Gideon thought that he must have died. Struck by lightning and sentenced to spend eternity in Hell for having helped so many to escape justice.
The Coachman's manequin pulled the reins sharply just as the horses were about to stampede over poor Gideon. He promptly passed out. When he awoke he found himself sitting next to the manequin in the driver's seat of the carriage. It wasn't really a carriage as much as a prison wagon. He looked over at the manequin who promptly tipped his hat to Gideon. When he went to speak the manequin plopped the hat atop Gideon's head and patted the top. He then handed the coachwhip to him and stood up. He then stepped right off the moving coach and hit the ground shattering to a million pieces.
Gideon had no idea what to do. He just sat there for a moment, stunned. He then reached down and grabbed the reins, he felt a surge of energy shoot through him as he did and felt a cruel smile cross his lips. He pulled hard on the reins bringing the hellish steeds to a full stop. They snorted and breated fire as they neighed in disapproval.
Gideon climbed down off the carriage. That is when he heard the voice of his Keeper for the first time. From somewhere in the darkness of the Prison Wagon, the Coachman spoke in a voice like twisting metal, the clanking of shackles and the hissing of serpents combined. "Welcome boy..." it hissed, "welcome to my service."
Gideon passed out again.
When he woke he found himself atop the carriage once more holding the reins the carriage was already moving on. He looked down at the path and saw what looked like several small footprints heading in the same direction the carriage was going. The prints led far off down the path. Finally the carriage came upon 2 small children sleeping on the side of the road. The Coachman halted the coach far enough from the children not to wake them. "Bring them to meeeeee." hissed the voice of the Coachman from the depths of the wagon. Suddenly Gideon's pockets filled with all manners of candy and sweets. Colorful lollypops and candies standing in hard contrast to the washed out surroundings lined his pockets. Compelled he climbed down from the Carriage and headed for the children. The cruel smile seemingly unable to leave his face. He reached out and gently woke the children who woke with a start sobbing gently. Gideon reached into his pocket and gave them both candy. They smiled gratefully. He then took their hands and led them back to the carriage.
So he was. He was The Nevartell, the tempter of children and the helpless. He was the stealer of babies, the taker of children. He would help the Coachman to capture mortals for sale at slave traders and Goblin Markets. He traveled the Trods of the Hedge and frequented the Grand Goblin Markets of Arcadia, faithfully serving his Keeper. In return, his keeper would grant him a portion of the spoils of their ill gotten gains. They both became quickly rich and the coachman himself became more elaborate in outward appearance. He became gilded and fine. Intricate carvings adorned his structure and pure onyx inlaid in his wheels. Gideon never saw what was inside the darkened part of the Carriage, behind the cold steel bars. At times he thought he could make out tiny pinpricks of yellow light, but that is all.
For who knows how many years, the Nevartell served his master collecting mortals for sale. Eventually, his Keeper even entrusted him enough to leave the Hedge and take children directly from the Mortal realm.
One fateful night however, The Nevartell left the Hedge on another mission to lure children from an orphanage. He did as he always did. He lured the children with a honey tongue and treats. With promises of good times and play, with rides and amusements and other things little boys and girls long for. However, this time, when The Nevartell returned to the Hedge, The Coachman was gone.
Gideon saw the tracks of the Coachman fading off down the Trod, but they soon faded. "How dare he!" Gideon thought to himself. "After all these years of faithful service. After all these years of being forced to endure the sobs and cries of the innocent, after all the years of horrible service he'd put in, this was his reward!?
How dare he. How dare he indeed. Gideon left the children there on the Trod and found his way back out of the Hedge. He snuck back to the mortal world. He lived on the streets for a couple of years eventually joining the Autumn Court and trying his best to mesh with the other Changelings, escapees from their Keepers. He wandered a great deal before finally getting a job at a local Wal-Mart in Sarasota, Florida.
Rumors
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OOC Information
'Player:' JT Tremaine
'Location:' Sarasota, FL
