Information
Caelpie has a minion!
Minion the Hyquus
Minion the Hyquus
Caelpie
Legacy Name: Caelpie
The
Hydrus LegeicaOwner:
ThistleAge: 6 years, 10 months, 2 days
Born: July 3rd, 2017
Adopted: 6 years, 10 months, 2 days ago
Adopted: July 3rd, 2017
Statistics
- Level: 43
- Strength: 95
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 40
- Books Read: 24
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Scuba Instructor
"Come to me, come for a ride!"
The caelpie is most inviting to weary travelers crossing the moors. What a pretty pony she is, so sturdy and so friendly, short enough that you can easily swing to her back, holding on by her shaggy mane, and surely you can guide her to your destination and save your sore feet. Why, the animal is almost asking you to ride her!
But beware, friend, for the ride that you take on this innocent pony will be the last ride of your life. Once mounted, you will find yourself stuck fast, and the friendly creature beneath you to be a nightmare; she is nothing other than an each-uisge, the water-horse that haunts the Scottish moors. She will tear away with you on the wildest ride you could ever imagine, until you are exhausted, and then she will come to the nearest water she can find and plunge beneath the surface, taking you with her. And then...she will feed.
Very few who have been astride an each-uisge have lived to tell the tale. The caelpie is no exception. But once, she was defeated.
Ellen MacGregor was tired but happy. The evening's Samhain entertainment had been wonderful, with old songs and spooky stories around a roaring fire, and delicious food and drink. The older girls had been all a-twitter as they peeled apples and placed nuts in the fire, trying to divine the identities of their future husband. Ellen cared nothing for that, but she had been very pleased when she had found a coin in her portion of colcannon - it meant good luck for the coming year. She yawned as she trudged homeward; it was a late hour for the young girl, but being up late was part of the fun, even if it meant her walk home was cold and dark.
She jumped when a snuffling noise sounded close to her. Turning, she beheld one of the shaggy moor ponies. It was chewing a mouthful of grass and watching her with soulful eyes. Ellen smiled and put out a hand for the pony to catch her scent. It sniffed obligingly, and she stroked the soft muzzle, then turned to resume her journey. The pony ambled along behind her companionably. As they walked, an idea entered Ellen's head.
Ride the pony. It won't mind. It wants to go with you, see? And you'll be home faster and your legs won't get so tired. Ellen had ridden moor ponies before; all the children did. But that was in daylight with others around to help catch or head off one who tried to bolt. But this pony is so friendly, said the thoughts in her head. Ellen turned and looked at the pony, which stood stock still and gazed back. Tentatively, she moved to it and grasped its mane.
Swiftly, with unearthly strength, the pony tossed its head and jerked Ellen off her feet, then twisted until she was across its back. As it did so, the animal grew and its shaggy coat disappeared, leaving Ellen astride a monstrous, sinuous dark horse with fiery eyes and clammy skin that felt like that of no land creature known. And it was away across the moor in a mad dash that would have thrown Ellen off in a second had she not been stuck fast.
Scraps of old tales coursed through Ellen's head. Each-uisge, she thought, and she was paralyzed with fear. But the tales only existed because some had gotten away. Quick now! What did they say? The beast would ride you to exhaustion. A legendary hero had once freed himself by riding until the monster had exhausted itself. Ellen straightened in the saddle. "On! On! Faster!" she cried with all the spirit she could muster. She clenched the mane tight and tried to kick the caelpie's sides. It mustn't think she was tiring! But Ellen was no legendary hero. What else had she been told? You could subdue an each-uisge with a bridle with a protection seal. Ellen had no bridle, nor, if it came to that, had she a seal. A seal of protection, marked with the solar cross...
An image flashed into her mind as she struggled to stay brave and controlled on the beast's back. Her colcannon, and the lucky piece she drew from it, now in her pocket. Marked with a solar cross! Ellen pulled a hand from the now slimy-wet mane and thrust it into her pocket. Her fingers curled tight around the coin - Don't drop it! she thought hectically - as she drew it out, then pressed it against the caelpie's side. The caelpie roared and wheeled as smoke rose from where the coin touched its flesh. It burned Ellen's fingers horribly, and a terrible stench reached her nose. The caelpie definitely didn't like that, but it was not subdued. She needed a bridle. A bridle, what was a bridle? It was made of long straps of leather, but also of rope if you had no leather, and fairy-tale princesses captured unicorns with their girdles of silk ribbon...
Ellen grasped the red-hot coin in one hand, though tears trickled down her cheeks from the pain, and still tried to sit tall on the caelpie's back as she reached up her other hand and dragged her hair ribbon from her head. The length of blue satin looked so flimsy but it would have to be enough. Throwing herself against the caelpie's neck to brace herself, Ellen managed to once more shout "Faster!", then pressed the coin, still burning hot, against the ribbon. Smoke rose from where they joined. That much had worked - they stuck!
Slowly, now, Ellen began to inch up the caelpie's neck, pulling at the areas where she was stuck to the monster's back. She felt skin tear, but her hands reached the top of the head, then reached the forehead, one end of the ribbon clenched in each of her hands. The caelpie tossed its head, then turned to bite, sharp teeth snapping at Ellen's side. In a final, desperate lunge, Ellen drove herself toward the open jaws and looped the ribbon into the creature's mouth, then pulled as hard as she could.
The next moment, Ellen almost flew off the caelpie's back. It had stopped so suddenly she had had no time to adjust, and indeed it took her a moment to realize what had happened. The great horse's ears were flattened back, and it snorted, but it stood still, and Ellen found she was no longer stuck. For the first time since she had been thrown aboard the caelpie, Ellen risked a glimpse at her surroundings.
She was a good ways from home. Her parents would be worrying. Holding the ends of the ribbon in a deathgrip, Ellen spoke as firmly as her quavering, hoarse voice would let her.
"Take me home".
The caelpie needed only a little guidance, seeming to know where it was headed. As they neared the cottage where Ellen lived, she turned the situation over in her mind. Each-uisges, once brought under control, would make fine strong workhorses, but to keep them was very dangerous. Mostly, those who captured an each-uisge simply killed it, piercing it with iron, which caused the creatures to dissolve into a mess of kelp and slime. They were also rumored to be able to barter for their freedom, granting almost any wish - but surely such a bargain was unsafe. Ellen firmed her resolve. She would see the monster killed. Her parents would know what to do.
As the caelpie and Ellen neared the cottage, Ellen saw her mother sitting outside, slumped on the bench by the door, obviously deeply tired, but still glancing around anxiously. When she spotted Ellen, her face lighted with relief, then shaded into confusion and fear as she took in the situation. Ellen forgot everything but her need to be at her mother's side; jumping from the caelpie's back, she ran to her mother with the makeshift bridle trailing from one hand, her fist still curled in a white-knuckle grasp. Only when she was safe in her mother's arms did Ellen think to look back, where the caelpie's hooves were just disappearing in the distance.
Ellen MacGregor never saw another each-uisge again. But they are a long-lived race, and they are few who live to tell stories of them.
The caelpie is most inviting to weary travelers crossing the moors. What a pretty pony she is, so sturdy and so friendly, short enough that you can easily swing to her back, holding on by her shaggy mane, and surely you can guide her to your destination and save your sore feet. Why, the animal is almost asking you to ride her!
But beware, friend, for the ride that you take on this innocent pony will be the last ride of your life. Once mounted, you will find yourself stuck fast, and the friendly creature beneath you to be a nightmare; she is nothing other than an each-uisge, the water-horse that haunts the Scottish moors. She will tear away with you on the wildest ride you could ever imagine, until you are exhausted, and then she will come to the nearest water she can find and plunge beneath the surface, taking you with her. And then...she will feed.
Very few who have been astride an each-uisge have lived to tell the tale. The caelpie is no exception. But once, she was defeated.
Ellen MacGregor was tired but happy. The evening's Samhain entertainment had been wonderful, with old songs and spooky stories around a roaring fire, and delicious food and drink. The older girls had been all a-twitter as they peeled apples and placed nuts in the fire, trying to divine the identities of their future husband. Ellen cared nothing for that, but she had been very pleased when she had found a coin in her portion of colcannon - it meant good luck for the coming year. She yawned as she trudged homeward; it was a late hour for the young girl, but being up late was part of the fun, even if it meant her walk home was cold and dark.
She jumped when a snuffling noise sounded close to her. Turning, she beheld one of the shaggy moor ponies. It was chewing a mouthful of grass and watching her with soulful eyes. Ellen smiled and put out a hand for the pony to catch her scent. It sniffed obligingly, and she stroked the soft muzzle, then turned to resume her journey. The pony ambled along behind her companionably. As they walked, an idea entered Ellen's head.
Ride the pony. It won't mind. It wants to go with you, see? And you'll be home faster and your legs won't get so tired. Ellen had ridden moor ponies before; all the children did. But that was in daylight with others around to help catch or head off one who tried to bolt. But this pony is so friendly, said the thoughts in her head. Ellen turned and looked at the pony, which stood stock still and gazed back. Tentatively, she moved to it and grasped its mane.
Swiftly, with unearthly strength, the pony tossed its head and jerked Ellen off her feet, then twisted until she was across its back. As it did so, the animal grew and its shaggy coat disappeared, leaving Ellen astride a monstrous, sinuous dark horse with fiery eyes and clammy skin that felt like that of no land creature known. And it was away across the moor in a mad dash that would have thrown Ellen off in a second had she not been stuck fast.
Scraps of old tales coursed through Ellen's head. Each-uisge, she thought, and she was paralyzed with fear. But the tales only existed because some had gotten away. Quick now! What did they say? The beast would ride you to exhaustion. A legendary hero had once freed himself by riding until the monster had exhausted itself. Ellen straightened in the saddle. "On! On! Faster!" she cried with all the spirit she could muster. She clenched the mane tight and tried to kick the caelpie's sides. It mustn't think she was tiring! But Ellen was no legendary hero. What else had she been told? You could subdue an each-uisge with a bridle with a protection seal. Ellen had no bridle, nor, if it came to that, had she a seal. A seal of protection, marked with the solar cross...
An image flashed into her mind as she struggled to stay brave and controlled on the beast's back. Her colcannon, and the lucky piece she drew from it, now in her pocket. Marked with a solar cross! Ellen pulled a hand from the now slimy-wet mane and thrust it into her pocket. Her fingers curled tight around the coin - Don't drop it! she thought hectically - as she drew it out, then pressed it against the caelpie's side. The caelpie roared and wheeled as smoke rose from where the coin touched its flesh. It burned Ellen's fingers horribly, and a terrible stench reached her nose. The caelpie definitely didn't like that, but it was not subdued. She needed a bridle. A bridle, what was a bridle? It was made of long straps of leather, but also of rope if you had no leather, and fairy-tale princesses captured unicorns with their girdles of silk ribbon...
Ellen grasped the red-hot coin in one hand, though tears trickled down her cheeks from the pain, and still tried to sit tall on the caelpie's back as she reached up her other hand and dragged her hair ribbon from her head. The length of blue satin looked so flimsy but it would have to be enough. Throwing herself against the caelpie's neck to brace herself, Ellen managed to once more shout "Faster!", then pressed the coin, still burning hot, against the ribbon. Smoke rose from where they joined. That much had worked - they stuck!
Slowly, now, Ellen began to inch up the caelpie's neck, pulling at the areas where she was stuck to the monster's back. She felt skin tear, but her hands reached the top of the head, then reached the forehead, one end of the ribbon clenched in each of her hands. The caelpie tossed its head, then turned to bite, sharp teeth snapping at Ellen's side. In a final, desperate lunge, Ellen drove herself toward the open jaws and looped the ribbon into the creature's mouth, then pulled as hard as she could.
The next moment, Ellen almost flew off the caelpie's back. It had stopped so suddenly she had had no time to adjust, and indeed it took her a moment to realize what had happened. The great horse's ears were flattened back, and it snorted, but it stood still, and Ellen found she was no longer stuck. For the first time since she had been thrown aboard the caelpie, Ellen risked a glimpse at her surroundings.
She was a good ways from home. Her parents would be worrying. Holding the ends of the ribbon in a deathgrip, Ellen spoke as firmly as her quavering, hoarse voice would let her.
"Take me home".
The caelpie needed only a little guidance, seeming to know where it was headed. As they neared the cottage where Ellen lived, she turned the situation over in her mind. Each-uisges, once brought under control, would make fine strong workhorses, but to keep them was very dangerous. Mostly, those who captured an each-uisge simply killed it, piercing it with iron, which caused the creatures to dissolve into a mess of kelp and slime. They were also rumored to be able to barter for their freedom, granting almost any wish - but surely such a bargain was unsafe. Ellen firmed her resolve. She would see the monster killed. Her parents would know what to do.
As the caelpie and Ellen neared the cottage, Ellen saw her mother sitting outside, slumped on the bench by the door, obviously deeply tired, but still glancing around anxiously. When she spotted Ellen, her face lighted with relief, then shaded into confusion and fear as she took in the situation. Ellen forgot everything but her need to be at her mother's side; jumping from the caelpie's back, she ran to her mother with the makeshift bridle trailing from one hand, her fist still curled in a white-knuckle grasp. Only when she was safe in her mother's arms did Ellen think to look back, where the caelpie's hooves were just disappearing in the distance.
Ellen MacGregor never saw another each-uisge again. But they are a long-lived race, and they are few who live to tell stories of them.
Pet Treasure
Turnip Lantern
Beware the Kelpie
Clump of Fetid Horse Hair
Gilded Kelpie
In Weed-Choked Lakes
Vain Kelpie Sticker
Colcannon
Whickers
Puck
Small Colcannon Cross Piece
Twisty Blue Ribbon