Friday, 14 June 2013

Background information & Prologue

Megan village, Tumble-hill is a small, out of the way village not far from the west coast of Ireland. As you might expect from the name, it is built on a steep hillside, covered with heather and other sweet smelling flowers. This hill gained its peculiar name from the number of tourists tumbling down each year. Of course these tourists don't know all of the wonderful things that happen on the hill they just try to climb it to the top for the view. Which is very nice but not really worth breaking your leg over. About halfway up a Tumble-hill, three small shops and two pubs draw the houses near. This is the center of the village.

Leprechauns other shoemakers to all magical folk. They are generally intoxicated so they have a reputation for being surly and quarrelsome they are also well known for being tricky creatures. Their sprightly movements ensure that they are far too quick for the average mortal to spot. The only known way to capture one is to fix your eye on him and not let him out of your sight. Each leprechaun carries with him a purse of gold. He will haggle over his release after trying many times to trick you into looking away. If by some miracle you manage to get your hands on the leprechauns gold, be sure that you spend it before morning for it will turn to ashes at dawn.

Megan Merrow had lived in the village of Tumble-hill the most of her life. Each day she would fetch water from the well and deliver it to her mother's house. The water from the well tasted much nicer than the water from the tap, but that was not why she took the time to fetch it each day. this will her time. she would look up at the sky and down at the grass, always marveling at whatever she saw there. Megan loved these few precious moments of peace and tranquility as she strolled up and down the lane.

Megan was a dreamer, and, as if she had sensed this on the day she was born her mother had picked out a name to live with her and give her strength. Megan often reflected that although her name was the Greek for 'mighty' she could not think of a more mismatched pair than herself and her name. Only once she had tried to talk to her mother about her feelings on the matter. Her mother had said that ''she may have skin as soft as a peach but that did not mean she lacked a hard center'. Megan being young spent some time exploring the idea by licking the skin on her hand to see if it tasted like a peach and occasionally pressing her tummy to see if she had a hard center.

Already Megan's older sister, Sylvia, had left Tumble-hill for the bright lights of Galway. Sylvia declared as she left that she could not stand the quite any more. Grace, Megan's younger sister, had decided that she would be moving to the city the first day she could. Megan on the other hand, relished the small details of life. A pebble that looked just like a heart or finding a patch of tiny, wild strawberries and picking just one as she walked along the road.

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