The wind howls and the rain falls hard upon your already soaked form. You stumble through the night until the wilderness becomes a blur of gnarled trees and hateful rain. As you begin to feel your already waning strength fail you completly, you happen across a small cave with a brook running into it, counting your blessings you quickly enter.
After a few seconds of clearing a place to rest among the dry brambles that seem to make up the floor, you sit back and look over your suroundings. You seem to be in a ancient shrine to some wild God long abandoned by time. At the rear of the cave you see a statue of the deity. His head and torso is that of a human but the similarity ends there, as his hind quarters are those of a goat and from the top of his head protrude two sharp horns. His only clothing is a belt which seems to be made from the pelt of a lynx and on a strap draped across his shoulders is a set of pipes produced from river reeds. His upper body is muscular but not the powerful form you would expect from a greek God. His hair falls about his shoulders in messy locks tangled and endowed with an odd assortment of twigs, straw, and vines. His eyes are kind and jovial, his nose curved and hawk like betraying his itallion heritage, his mouth is spread into a mischevious grin, and his chin is adorned with a goattee beard. The image taken as a whole is not all to atractive. Upon the statues pedestal reads the single word PAN.
Before the statue you see a stone altar not adorned with the carcasses of sacrificed animals as you would expect, but instead with the coil of a grapevine the leaves still green and the fruit ripe, and with a comb of bees wax the honey still dripping slowly to the ground, and with a tankard of wine filled to the brim. Famished you consume these offerings not caring to think how they came to be in so desolate a place.
After completing your meal you are overtaken by exhausten and fall into a comfortable sleep. Suddenly you are awakened by a loud shout, you jump up with a renewed sense of panic. The ancient shrine has been replaced by a thriving temple, the bramble floor replaced with polished marble, and the cave walls replaced by gold and brass. At the rear of the temple you see the goat God Pan no longer of stone but in the flesh. He is playing a merry tune on his reed pipes while he dances a jig, his hooves throwing sparks off the floor.
Before him is a horde of wild creatures dancing to the happy music, some like him are half goat half man while others seem like beautiful female embodiements of nature. These nymphs range from lovely girls with hair and gowns of the flowing river waters to gorgeous women there hair green as the valley there gowns brown as tree bark.
The most glorious of these nature spirits is Shala, Pans beloved wife her hair is black except for two braided strands of white flowing past each side of her face, her face is the lovliest you have ever seen her eyes golden with a mischevious light in them rivaling that of Pan himself. Her form is small and lithe in no way betraying her lupine strength. She is currently dancing with a short stocky dwarf oddly dressed in mismatched armour. This is Pan's mortal brother Vyndalas, he tries to keep up with the frantic pace of Pan's tune while at the same time trying to keep from tripping over his long braided beard.
In the corner of the room you see several large casks of wine upon a table, underneath of which in a drunken slumber you see Pan's grandfather Wolfbane.
Along the wall seated at one of the many banquet tables you see Puck Pan's favorite cousin and only pranking partner aside from his wife, he is happily stuffing as many of the wide assortment of cookies from the feast as he can fit into his already bulging pockets. Puck is tall and thin with jet black eyes and the mischevious grin you have now come to expect from Pan's cohorts. his clothes seem more like a part of him and seem to change as you watch him from the tan deep brown of willow wood to the ashen gray of oak and on to the various colors of the forest.
Walking forward into the mob you almost trip over a small rainbow colored dragon named Sunset, who looks at you, emits an annoyed squeek, and turns back to the conversation she was having with a rather large newt by the name of Newyn.
Further into the room you come upon the strange sight of a tall elven male with long white hair by the name of Rastlin being duct taped to the wall by a giggling fairy with chestnut colored curls (Pan's mother in law Candace) and by another fairy with flowing dark brown hair (Pan's companion Iris). Turning away from the disturbing sight you make your way to the dance floor.
Hours seem like days as you enjoy the ball. Pan plays one fast joyous song after another and you meet many more of his friends and companions. Then as the windows reveal the breaking dawn Pan's song switches to a soft slow melody, and although the thought of holding one of the nymphs closely upon the dance floor appeals greatly to you, you are suddenly overtaken by exhaustion. You barely make it to one of the benches before sleep overtakes you. You sleep long and dreamless and when you awake the temple is gone, you are once again in the abandoned shrine.
In the distance you can here voices calling your name, probably a search party come to rescue you from the wilderness. You cant help but wonder if the nights adventure was all but a fantasy produced from your shock and delerium, but then you notice that upon your head is a crown of grapevine and around your waste a belt of ivy. Gifts from the fae to you there mortal playmate. Then as you rise you find the final evidence that your revelry last night was real, when your head is filled with the monstrous pain of the hangover you well deserve.
Pan says, "I had a character here for a while and built it up a bit but I wanted someone who was a bit more fun then a shadow thief that I could role play in a clan that shared my fun lovingness so basically this character was made for and only for clan Daoine Sidhe."
His favorite quote is by Lewis Carrol in Alice in Wonderland.
"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here.
I'm mad. You're mad."
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."
