Fraggle Rock: Elder Clan Adventures

[RedPiggy]

Crooner is the first OC I've done in awhile (not counting the Minstrel in Comeback, since he's only barely mentioned). I didn't want him to be Cantus with a different name. Crooner is more of a cross between Cantus and Convincing ... aaaaahhhh, well, look at the time!

 

[The Count]

Yeah... Will be going offline myself in a while until my DSL line gets fixed. *Off to brainstorm some haunters.

 

[RedPiggy]

Chapter 2

Princess Gwenalot groaned. Her subjects had started to see the way Crooner, the sacred Minstrel, wandered the whole of Fraggle Rock … but somehow always managed to spend time with the Princess every week.

It’s not that she didn’t like him that way, because he could really be fun to be around … it was just … that …

… she had … things … to do.

Fraggle Rock sprawled on for ages and it was her job to protect Fraggles from danger. It left her on the “road” a lot, without a lot of time to worry about ….

At any rate, she found herself at a crossroads. To the left lay the great blue rock that tempted any Fraggle worth her mushrooms. The Old Ones said it was necessary to crack it in order to prove their worth as leader of the Fraggles. Princess Gwenalot was already leader, but she wanted to know for herself where her destiny lay.

However, to the right lay that burning piece of fur that the Doozer told her about. Fire was dangerous in Fraggle Rock: in some parts of the Rock, an errant flame could quickly lead to a Rockslide and a painfully loud noise. Her father had told her of Boom Canyon, a place where it was absolutely forbidden to camp overnight. He said over fifty Fraggles had disappeared while the Rock heard an earth-shattering “boom”.

As she stared first into one tunnel and then into the other, she heard someone approaching her from the right. She hid in a corner and wrapped her invisibility cape around her. A bright blue Fraggle with a red cap and a brown robe appeared, apparently lost in thought, as he read a piece of paper with such small eyes Princess Gwenalot couldn’t really see them. As he got closer, mumbling to himself about diameters and force and gravity, he accidentally stepped on Princess Gwenalot’s tail.

“Ouch!” she yipped, jumping a couple of feet off the ground. She growled as she cradled her tail in her arms.

The male Fraggle screamed and jumped back in one hop to the other side of the cave, trembling. “S-sorry!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t see you sitting there! Please forgive me, oh Princess Gwenelyn!”

“Gwenalot,” she replied.

The male Fraggle’s voice changed from booming to timid. He cocked his head to one side, the trembling stopping as he tried to hide the piece of paper behind him. “You changed your name?” he asked, confused. “Why?”

The Princess shrugged and stared at the floor, letting her sore tail fall back down. “I just like the way it sounds better, that’s all.”

The male Fraggle shook his head. “You hairy Fraggles are really weird,” he told her. “You not only have names that have nothing to do with either your looks or your jobs … you also just randomly change them at your slightest whim.”

The Princess frowned, putting her hands on her hips. “Well, smarty-robes, what’s your name?”

He patted himself on the chest. “Roughchin. I use a stone for a pillow, so it leaves my chin, well, rough.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied in disbelief. “You think you’re so smart, what about Crooner? His name is like his job … and he has hair. I guess you shouldn’t be so quick to judge other Fraggles, huh?”

Roughchin shrugged. “He’s a sacred Minstrel. He’s bound to have more sense than the average hairy Fraggle.”

“Oooooooo,” Princess Gwenalot growled, practically steaming. She could feel her heartbeat all the way up behind her eyes. “Why are you walking around out here?” she barked, trying to change the subject. “Don’t you know there’s some burning fur out here that doesn’t go out?”

Roughchin cleared his throat and tried to inch away from the approaching Princess. “Ah, um, you see, uh ….”

Princess Gwenalot sighed and shook her head. Her voice softened as well. “Don’t let me catch you around here again, at least until I get this mystery solved. Got it?”

Roughchin nervously nodded. “Y-yes, of course, Princess Gwen-a-pick-a-suffix.” He ran off in the opposite direction.

“It’s Gwenalot!” she screeched.

As she headed down the right tunnel, the tunnel began to grow more humid, while thick roots ran this way and that and a glittery light glowed stronger and stronger. As she approached what looked like a dead end, it started getting rather warm, which was strange considering how close the Rock was to the Great Rock Freeze. She gulped and spied a lone clump of red fur, with a small flame licking at its edges. There was no smoke and the fur wasn’t consumed either. There was also something else … a little round cream-colored rollie, damp from the humid air. She cautiously placed her invisibility cape down so it wouldn’t catch fire and approached on tiptoe, her tail waving back and forth behind her for balance. She hunched down and reached for the little rollie.

It turned suddenly on its own to reveal an iris. The flame beside it gave it an eerie orange glow.

Princess Gwenalot shrieked in surprise. “Great Piles of Doozer Dust! It’s an – mmphrrmm!” A hand grabbed her snout and as she fainted, she heard cackling laughter.

 

[The Count]

It's an... MMMPRH! *Cues Monty Python music.

Ah yes, those are quite common in the region of... *Falls into trap door that just opened.
Post mooooooore!

*Disappears.

 

[RedPiggy]

LOL ... this is "the crossover that isn't". It's also going to be real short and wrapped up. Each arc will only be about 4 chapters each.

Would you like a "helping hand"?

 

[The Count]

*Inside the pit... Well, if you know that clarinist from TMS Roy Clark episode... Gotta finish planning the band. But this story's rauckus, we need more of it please!

 

[RedPiggy]

Chapter 3

Princess Gwenalot still floated in darkness, though now she could hear fluttering wings and tiny female voices….

“Why do we have to do this by ourselves?” one voice whispered angrily. “Where’s Hanna?”

A clinking sound and the sound of scratching on paper followed. “She said something about finding a gig making shoes or something.”

A long pause followed and then the first voice said, “Well, at least we’re not stuck doing that.”

The two voices giggled for several moments.

Princess Gwenalot opened her eyes, thick and heavy as they felt, and the blurry image of a large room covered in stucco appeared. She didn’t move as she glanced around at the ceiling: there were cobwebs and spiders and tiny lizards skittering in and out of cracks in the wall. She found the strength to lift her head and she saw dozens of strange objects, all made out of metal. Some were round like rollies, though a lot larger (almost Fraggle-sized), and some were very pointy. She recognized some … they were called “swords”. She used to pretend having one when she was little, using a branch and waving it around in her parents’ room.

She groaned as she sat up, and heard buzzing around her ears. She swatted.

“Hey, watch it, furball!” the two voices screamed.

Princess Gwenalot looked around and spotted two strange dragonfly-like creatures with smooth pale skin and silvery long hair, wearing what looked like leaf remnants. They weren’t insects, though … she didn’t know what they were.

“Are you just going to sit on that pile of armor all day, or are you going to get up off your big furry butt and let us do our job?” taunted one, with her hand on her hip, her wings flittering madly.

“I don’t have a big furry butt,” Princess Gwenalot protested. “I’m very petite among the Fraggles. I don’t have an ounce of fat on me!”

The other creature smirked. “You look like a big fat waste of fur to us.”

Princess Gwenalot stood angrily, pumping her fist as her tail started to flicker about. “You aren’t very nice!”

The first creature stuck out her tongue. “Who ever told you fairies were nice?” she replied, laughing. “Stupid little furb--.” The fairy stopped mocking the newcomer when the newcomer grabbed her in her hand and squeezed slightly.

Princess Gwenalot grinned with a devilish grin. “I’m smart enough to know that you little things can be swatted like the weird bugs you are,” she coldly informed them. “Now, how do I get back to Fraggle Rock?”

The other fairy flew at Princess Gwenalot’s hair, pulling and tugging. “Let my sister go!”

Princess Gwenalot casually flicked the nagging fairy away, sending her sprawling into a pile of swords that fell down with a raucous clanging. She glared at the one fairy she had captured. “Fraggle Rock?” she asked again with one eyelid drooping down halfway.

The fairy stopped struggling and sighed. “If you’ve got a thing for rocks, we really can’t help you,” she replied wearily. She looked up pleadingly. “Please let me go … we’ve got only ‘til one o’clock this afternoon to finish up our inventory for all these weapons.”

“Why do you need all these ‘weapons’?” the Princess asked.

The fairy shook her head. “I really don’t know. You have no idea what it’s like to live only to serve a ruler who’s stronger than you. We’ll be severely punished if you don’t let us finish.” She tried to free herself once more. “Please! These aren’t even for us!”

Princess Gwenalot let her go and the fairy flew over to her bruised and groaning sister. She watched them flick their wings once or twice as one tended the other, happy to be free from the Fraggle grip. “So, who knows how to get me back to Fraggle Rock?”

The bruised fairy looked up at the Fraggle and pointed to the door to the room, which was only twice the Princess’ size. “Go out that door and head south until you reach a gate. Sometimes around noon you’ll see a big fat hairy animal with horns and long ears snoozing right in front of the gate until he’s chased off. If you get to him before then, he can help you.”

Princess Gwenalot picked up a short sword that looked almost new and was easy for a Fraggle to carry. She picked up another one and grunted as she opened the door. She stopped and turned to look at the tired fairies. “I really am sorry that I had to be mean to you, uh, ‘fairies’,” she told them submissively. “You could have avoided all that if you had just been nice to me.” She left and gently closed the door behind her.

 

[RedPiggy]

Chapter 4

Princess Gwenalot ran straight back to her cave and flopped melodramatically into bed, wrapping herself in her covers.

Her mirror looked on in concern. “Princess Gwen, are you alright? Did you crack that blue rock?"

Princess Gwenalot replied in a muffled voice, “I haven’t been yet.”

The mirror nodded as best she could. “Ah, so you were afraid to go there, huh?"

The Princess threw off her covers and glared teary-eyed at her mirror. “I was not afraid! I was Fragglenapped! I woke up in this strange room with all these ‘weapons’ and little bug things called ‘fairies’ and I had to ask for help from some huge mountain of fur who bellowed and made this great big boulder jump out of the way and --.”

“Whoa, hang on," the mirror interjected, “I can’t keep up with all this excitement!"

“And I had to live it – can you imagine?" the Princess screamed. She buried her face in her pillow and muffled, “I’m going to just stay in my room until I grow gray!"

“Figures … hairy Fraggle only want to stay in bed," a rough male voice taunted.

The Princess looked up. A green Fraggle stood in front of her mirror, his yellow rectangular earrings dangling from each side of his head out from under his large brown cap. His arms were crossed, his tail wagging slowly back and forth. His face wore a permanent droll expression. She sat back up and nodded, rubbing her snout.

“Does Princess dare to wembley in front of her subject?" he asked incredulously.

“I’m not scratching my nose … I’m wiping away some dust, is all," she replied. She stood and dusted herself off some more. “How can I help you?"

“I am Fishface of the Cave of the Great Hole," he told her.

“You mean the Great Hall?"

“No, that is what hairy Fraggle say when they disrespect local tongue," he grunted. “I hear Princess looks to crack the blue rock. I come to mock your failure.”

Princess Gwenalot sighed slightly. “I didn’t fail, Fishface. I just haven’t been yet.”

“So, Princess is not coward … Princess is just lazy," he said with a satisfied smirk.

“I am not lazy," she scowled. “You’re one to talk, you know … all you want to do is sit on your tail all day and boss Fraggles around.”

“That what real leader do," Fishface retorted. “If Princess studied the Legendary Rum-poop more often instead of dancing and laughing and playing with sacred minstrels, she would know of importance of being leader.”

The Princess’s throat tightened, as well as her fist. “How dare you imply that me an’ Crooner --?"

“Imply nothing," Fishface told her. “Only blind Fraggle not see what goes on around here.” He grinned darkly. “Even then – sacred Minstrel sings about it everywhere he goes.”

The Princess gasped. Her knees felt weak. “What does he say?" she whispered.

Fishface laughed. “True Leader would know these things," he replied as he turned to leave. “Princess should crack the blue rock before the Great Freeze … or someone else might be leader soon.” He continued to laugh as he walked out of her cave and the Princess caught him glancing momentarily at the two swords by the exit.

The mirror stared in the direction of the exit for a few moments and glanced back at Gwen. “It only takes one guess to figure out who he thinks should be leader.”

Princess Gwenalot slumped down beside her bed, still stunned at the revelation that Crooner was bragging about a relationship that she felt was all in his mind. She nodded slightly. “But he doesn’t do anything," she whispered.

“Crooner, or Fishface?" asked the mirror sympathetically.

The Princess buried her head in her hands. “What does it matter?" she mumbled. Suddenly, she looked up, wild-eyed.

“What is it?"

She slapped herself on the forehead. “I left my invisibility cape in that stupid tunnel!"

 

[The Count]

Hooray! 1, 2, 1, 2... And quickly through. With vorfle blade in hand... O princess Gwenawhatever, beware the jaws that bite the claws that scratch the readers that nag... Fairy light and fairy might, then again, they might not as they're stuck on inventory duty for a master unknown. Run ye Fraggle... Lest it strike 13 o'clock and you be trapped behind the gates!

 

[RedPiggy]

Chapter 5

Princess Gwenalot sat in front of her magic mirror, stroking her tail sadly.

“I’m sure you’ll find your cape again, Gwen,” the mirror encouraged her.

“Oh, it’s not that,” she replied. She hesitated for several moments before speaking. “I just … I just think that … well,” she continued, shrugging mindlessly, “some Fraggles are mad at me. I don’t know why.” She looked up at her mirror. “What do you think?”

The mirror bit her lip. “Well,” she answered softly, “I’m not qualified to tell you what’s going to happen. That is really more of a talent that belongs to my sister, Mavis. I can just be your friend, Gwen. I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Princess Gwenalot looked at her mirror strangely. “But … I didn’t ask what the future holds. I asked whether or not you think the other Fraggles are mad at me.”

The mirror smiled. “You asked me what I thought, Gwen, and I told you. Now that your request is a bit more specific, I can tell you that some Fraggles don’t like you … but a lot of Fraggles do.”

“But why don’t they like me? All I care about is making sure I do a good job as leader.”

“Well, it’s my experience that Fraggles are just like lots of different creatures. Some like some things, and some like other things.”

Princess Gwenalot frowned and leaned against the mirror gently. “Gee, thanks. That helped make everything so clear,” she retorted sarcastically. She sighed. “What about Crooner? Why would he make up stuff about having some sort of relationship? I mean, we’re friends and all, but there’s no rule saying we can’t be friends.”

The mirror sighed. “Gwen, Crooner wants you to be with him more. Did you really need me to tell you that?”

The Princess stood up, tossing down her tail, and went over to a small nook in her cave and fished out some mushrooms which she promptly gulped. She smacked her lips and replied, “He’s going around singing love songs about me, though!”

“That’s Fishface’s version of the story,” the mirror responded. “Don’t you think you should find out for yourself?”

Princess Gwenalot hung her head down. “If I search for Crooner, they’ll all just say that --.”

A female voice clearing her throat interrupted their conversation. Princess Gwenalot looked up and spied a tall, lavender Fraggle with a bright blue cap and long, thick, dark blue robes with gold trim. Her eyes were soft and unassuming and her voice a pleasant breeze. The female Fraggle nodded and asked if she could enter. Princess Gwenalot agreed and the female Fraggle introduced herself. “Hooba, Princess,” she said cheerfully. “My name is Blundig. I hope I didn’t interrupt your doomba,” she noted with slight alarm as she saw crumbs of mushrooms on the floor.

The Princess smiled. “No, I was just finishing up breakfast anyway. Have a seat on my bed. Relax.” She flicked the belubious of her tail to sweep away the crumbs quickly under a mat. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, ah, you see … I’ve come to offer a suggestion, Your Highness.”

Princess Gwenalot glanced over at her mirror and then plopped down on the bed beside Blundig. “You have a suggestion?” she asked casually. “What do you have in mind?”

Blundig maintained a warm smile and informed the Princess that the Great Freeze was coming soon. “Now, even though you’re a hairy Fraggle, Princess, I want you to know that you are still well respected in the Great Hole.”

“That’s not what Fishface tells me,” she noted bitterly.

“Well, you do wear a helmet, which is like a hat, so I think you are more like us than you know.” She noticed the Princess was staring at the floor and so she changed her voice to a soft whisper. “We’ve all seen how exhausting being the leader is for you, Princess. I’m sure Fishface only wants to help.” The Princess looked up at her quizzically. “Princess, I hope you don’t think Fishface is mean. He really does want the best for those of us who live near the Great Hole. Sure, he comes off as overbearing sometimes, but he’s not trying to be evil or anything.”

“That is so inspired of you,” the mirror interjected sincerely.

Blundig smiled and bowed slightly. “Why, thank you! I do apologize … I didn’t ask for your name, Mirror.”

The mirror’s eyes widened. She stuttered and stammered. “Uh, well, I, you see, hm … no one’s ever asked me that ever since the Princess found me. I almost forgot what it was.”

Princess Gwenalot stared, confused, at her friend. “You didn’t tell me you had a name.”

“You never really asked, and it wasn’t that important anyway. We’ve been such good friends. My name doesn’t really matter much.”

Princess Gwenalot stood up and stamped her foot. “Well, now you have to tell me your name! I can’t stand not knowing something about my dearest friend!”

“I’m your dearest friend?” the mirror gasped. “Not even Crooner?”

The Princess frowned. “Stop changing the subject!”

The mirror nodded slightly (as much as her head would allow). “Mallory.”

“But, doesn’t that mean --?” Blundig spurt out.

“Oh, I don’t know what it means,” Mallory blurted out. She stared at Blundig. “Didn’t you have a suggestion for our young Princess?”

“Oh, well, yes, I almost forgot,” Blundig replied nervously. “Princess, since Fraggle Rock is such a large place, and you can’t be everywhere all at once, we were thinking that, maybe, if you don’t mind, you might agree to sharing your job with others. That way, when an emergency pops up, you aren’t stuck doing something more, um, domestic.”

“Domestic?”

“Yes,” Blundig said happily. “You know: cleaning, cooking, decorating – that type of stuff.”

The Princess scratched her scalp. “But, Fraggles are free to do that stuff anyway. Why do I have to organize it?”

“It’s not a criticism of your leadership skills,” Blundig answered diplomatically. “Some Fraggles just appreciate a little more, uh, direction, in their lives. You go off on a lot of adventures protecting us from danger. If you had some type of helpers, they could help with some of the more local problems.”

“Princess! Princess!” a shrieking male voice announced, followed by its owner, a male Fraggle, with a brown tunic, green skin, a bulbous nose, and blond hair and goatee. “Princess! There’s some type of terrible monster floating around in a tunnel a few hours’ walk from the Great Hall!”

“Oh my,” Blundig gasped.

The male Fraggle kneeled down at the Princess’ feet. “I, Sir Blunderbrain, do beseech you to come with me at once, Your Highness.” He revealed a small shield under his tunic.

“Maybe we’ll need these,” Princess Gwenalot offered, picking up the two swords.

“Oh no,” Sir Blunderbrain said. “This monster cannot be cut down in so physical a manner.”

“Fine,” she replied, dropping the swords. She ran over to Blundig and patted her on the back. “Congratulations, you’re my official Local Leader.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” the Princess told her, “you seem to know what you’re talking about. You can start by teaching Fishface some manners.” She smiled at Mallory. “I’ll be back in a flash, Mallory. Thanks for telling me your name.”