Cruella ~Lady of Purnia~ in the World of Monarchy
You stand on the cliffs and look down on a wondrous sight...PURNIA. A shining white castle in the distance surrounded by rich, lush green lands, peaceful, prosperous, hidden by the ring of mountains. You found your way through their craggy cliffs and your reward lies ahead of you. This is the home of the elven lady Cruella, Herald of The ~Velkyn Velve~, former Legionnaire of the Allusarian Knights and Tempest Blade of The Wind Swords. A follower of Barnabas, a seer. Venture forth into her kingdom. All those who enter in peace will be welcome. You slide down the steep, narrow mountain path, leading your horse. You mount at the bottom and ride through the wood. 'Tis a strange, quiet place. The trees are ancient and tower above you. They whisper through their leaves, high above you, sending the message that a traveller is approaching.
A Call of the Sidhe
Tarry thou yet, late lingerer in the twilight's glory
Click on the gates to enter Cruella's world.
POETRY...
FANTASY RACES AND BESTIARY
2 Galleries
by A.E.
Gay are the hills with song: earth's faery children leave
More dim abodes to roam the primrose-hearted eve,
Open their glimmering lips to breath some wondrous story.
Hush, not a whisper! Let your heart alone go dreaming.
Dream unto the dream may pass: deep in the heart alone
Murmurs the Might One his solemn undertone.
Canst thou see adown the silver cloudland streaming
Rivers of rainbow light, dewdrop on dewdrop falling.
Starfire of silver flames, lighting the dark beneath?
And what enraptured hosts burn on the dusky heath!
Come thou away with them, for Heaven to Earth is calling.
These are Earth's voice -- her answer -- spirits thronging.
Come to the Land of Youth: the trees grow heavy there
Drop on the purple wave the ruby fruit they bear.
Art thou not now, bright one, all sorrow past, in elation.
Filled with wild joy, grown brother-hearted with the vast.
Whither thy spirit wending flits the dim stars past
Unto the Light of Lights in burning adoration
Ahead is a small gate. It swings open with your approach...
ICON GALLERY 1
ICON GALLERY 2
ICON GALLERY 3
LINKS...
IMAGES OF CRUELLA, A PICTURE GALLERY
In dim samite was she bedight,
And on her hair a hoop of gold,
Like foxfire, in the tawn moonlight,
Was glimmering cold.
With soft gray eyes she gloomed and glowered;
With soft red lips she sang a song:
What knight might gaze upon her face,
Nor fare along?
*Morgan le Fay by Madison Cawien.
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