Moorgate was young, in fact there were but nary a few houses and a shop selling wyvern wings. No streets to speak of, unless you call a mud path a street, no walls, not even a harbor. There was a dock, small that it was. No, it wasn't even called Moorgate then. It was called the "few houses down in the South".
Living in one of the houses, in the rafters, was a very young and ambitious sprite. Coming from the North, which was even more empty of inhabitants than the South of the island, her goal was to go on to bigger and better things, to become a wizard of great and Cosrin-wide renown. When she reached the South and saw how pitifully few people there were, she concluded that she must sail on to find a large city, perhaps a great wizard to apprentice to.
She settled in the barn of a house that was home to a burly but apparently friendly human. She figured she’d wait till a boat appeared at the dock someday and sail to wherever it was going. It had to go somewhere with a large city eventually. Days passed as she waited, then weeks, then months. The small sprite was getting quite bored waiting for a ship to stop at the pathetic little dock. She spent the time studying what scrolls on magic she had and practiced a spell or two. That got very boring, as her attention span was about the same as her wingspan. “How many months do I have to sit here? I need to become a powerful wizard!”
On the one year anniversary of arriving at the collection of houses, in complete boredom, she decided to try a new spell of creating a monster out of thin air. Even with an hour a day or so of half-hearted study, she was progressing very well. She decided to start small “A giant rat” she thought to herself. She said the required chant and waited. No giant rat. How boring.
Then she heard a commotion outside. She flew to the rooftop and looked to the center of the growing town, for in the year she had been there it had grown 10-fold, in the new middle square were 20 huge giants, swinging clubs at everyone who got in their way. They were screaming something about being torn from their mountain home and being plopped here in the middle of a stinking village. The villagers were fleeing the swinging clubs and calling for help.
The small pixie was laughing her little heart out on the rooftop. Watching that commotion was the funniest thing she had seen in a year. She never had so much fun.
After the commotion died down and the giants were driven back to their abode in the mountains, the sprite doubled, if not quadrupled her studies of wizardry. She decided that was too much fun to leave to chance next time.
Over the next months she conjured up hundreds of different creatures to scare inhabitants, sent her landlord from his bath to the middle square, created a flower that smelled so bad it killed anyone who smelled it. She played tricks on anyone and everyone who crossed her path. Sometimes, if she was bored of tricks, she’d insist those who passed her home to play a game of 20 questions with her, or hide and seek, though many began to demur from her games since the penalty for losing seemed to be death or pain.
One day, on the second anniversary of her arrival, she sent her landlord for the fifth time from his bath to the town square, for by now the circle of houses had become a town. Luckily this time he was prepared and wearing his tunic.
Several of the townspeople, seeing this last trick of the small sprites’s, rushed with the landlord to the house and called her down.
“You must stop this! Your jokes and games are not funny. Someone is going to get hurt!” shouted the first townsperson to arrive.
“But life is so boring here!” the sprite shouted from the roof.
“Stop or leave us” the landlord shouted up.
“I’ll stop” the sprite said dejectedly as she crossed her fingers.
The next day she created a room with no exits where the neighbor’s bathroom used to be. It was 23 hours before anyone figured out where the neighbor had disappeared to, of course the trick could only have been played by one person.
The townspeople gathered at the barn and immediately drove her out of town.
“Go play your tricks on Trolls and Ogres!” they shouted as she flew to the forests North, crying and alone.
And there she remained for hundreds of years, playing tricks on adventurers as they explored the deeper forests, or wrangling the unwary into a game, whatever she could do to keep from getting bored. She forgot completely about her desire to become a real wizard, the games were too fun.
But it was getting boring, for adventurer’s rarely ventured so far deep as she had hidden herself.
“Its been hundreds of years!” she thought to herself one day “Those people can’t be in that stupid town any more. I think I’ll go there and play some games and tricks again. I hear there are well-populated forests and mountain passes too. I can have fun for years!”
She determined to return to Moorgate and play.
Indeed, Ana had been having a lot of fun since her return to Moorgate.
Today had been especially fun. After gaining a new niece, she had never had relatives before, her day just improved after that. She found wool in the Rogues guild proving the blame for bloodied rogue tutors was on mean shaman sheep thing.
She had a big birthday party for Arlinn with fun party hats she made, though her invited guests did cause some trouble.
The dead mean sheep shaman was fun to play with. His squeaking was cute once he became a mouse, much better than the lizardman sprite female <shudders> he was for a short while.
She even redecorated the Fighters Guild with shorter hallways after she realized the poor tired souls needed to walk less steps.
After it all she returned to her secret hideaway above the Fighters Guild only to find the roof had collapsed. SHe wondered how that happened, but decided she better not ask.
"Hmm, maybe I'm having too much fun. I better go to the woods for a bit before the Moorgate people kick me out again. I'll lay low till they forget"
She giggles and heads North to play with
unsuspecting adventurers there.