The Tale Of Yolph Thrice-Killed

Link to article: The Tale Of Yolph Thrice-Killed.

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[[include :scp-wiki:info:start]]
= **Songs of the Crimson Moon.**
= **Written by** [[*user Dr Leonerd]]

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[[include :scp-wiki:info:end]]
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The Tale of Yolph Thrice-Killed
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[[include component:image-block
 name=https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/89/Banshee.jpg|
caption= None keen for the keener, but it is her dread symphony that even the ravens fear.| width=275px]]

In an age where the sun shines only in old men's dreams, no child of night is more widely reviled than the shrieking banshee. While these gaunt and feeble figures pose no physical threat, their rooftop cries herald imminent demise for one residing in the household beneath, and there is no spell, prayer nor talisman that might avert this outcome. 

The banshee's origins are as shrouded in shadows as they themselves, some believing them to be the spirits of childless crones that died alone and were not found until long after the fact - none wept for the banshee, thus the banshee is condemned to weep for all. What follows is perhaps the best-known banshee tale, that of the farmer named Yolph, who lived on the outskirts of a small forgotten village with his wife and infant daughter.

One fateful night, Yolph awoke to the sound of faint footsteps coming from above, followed by a clamoring cacophony of ghastly shrieks and howls. While by no means a learned man, with little experience in matters of the reawakened dead, Yolph knew what grim fate the banshee's bawl foretold. It was in that moment that he felt a fear far greater any other in all of his thirty years. And so it was that morning that the farmer took matters into his own hands, and ruthlessly strangled his wife while she slept: this betrayal, Yolph supposed, might persuade death to accept her soul instead of his.

On the second night, after disposing of his wife's remains, Yolph was once again startled by those same anguished cries - this time, even louder than before. It was without thought nor hesitation that Yolph stabbed his young daughter straight through the heart, hoping with that with this second offering fate's treacherous tides must surely spare him. With empty sorrow, Yolph buried the babe next to her mother beneath the wrathful glare of the swollen moon.

Nonetheless, on the third night, the haggard harbinger returned once more to the rooftop, her deafening screams matched only in intensity by the panicked beating of Yolph's own craven heart. With none left in the household save for himself, the farmer knew that his only chance for survival was to flee on foot. Taking little more than the clothes on his back, Yolph trekked for miles before encountering a derelict rope bridge tottering above a rushing river.

In his haste, the farmer did not notice that he was being watched silently from the woods: from the darkness there sprung a vicious beoar[[footnote]]A rare beast endemic to the Xerophyllan lowlands possessing the qualities of a bear and a hog.[[/footnote]], which tore furiously at Yolph's face, chest and limbs, leaving him badly bloodied. Just as the hungry hogrizzly was preparing to finish him, Yolph seized the dagger from his pocket, still stained with his firstborn's blood, and stabbed blindly at the beoar's throat, killing it instantly.

Before Yolph could so much as breathe a sigh of relief, the old bridge collapsed from under his feet, unable to withstand the combined weight of both he and the slain urswine. The farmer was plunged into the deep and pitiless waters below, flailing and gasping for breath as he was dragged helplessly downstream. It was then, as his lungs were filling rapidly with water, that Yolph sighted the solitary branch of a poisonous //lethka// tree reaching precariously from the riverbank.

Foolishly thinking himself blessed, Yolph grasped the thorny plant with both hands, howling in pain as he did so, and used it to haul himself safely back onto dry land. At last free from harm, Yolph instinctively raised his aching fingers to his mouth to ease the lethka's sting, thereby unwittingly exposing himself to the plant's deadly venom.

It was in his arrogance that Yolph believed destiny a force to be bartered with, but fate had retaliated with utmost vigor, slaying him not just once but three times. Let the tale of Yolph Thrice-Killed reminds us of both death's assurance, and the inherent futility in fighting fate.

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[[=]]
[*http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/dr-leonerd-s-author-page More from this author...]
[[/=]]

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[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]]
> **Filename:** Banshee.jpg
> **Author:** W.H. Brooke
> **License:** Public Domain
> **Source Link:** [https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Banshee.jpg Wikimedia Commons]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]

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