Join us at the campfire for tales from around the world, told by storytellers of all backgrounds and creeds. From the heros and heroines of old, let us relearn and rediscover the wisdom of our ancestors. Shhh..the story begins..

There was once an Irish Lord named Eochaid who was married to a beautiful Lady by the name of Etain. So lovely was the Lord's wife that she attracted the attention of Midhir...a King among the Tuatha De Danaan, the race of Regal Faeries. Midhir would visit Etain in secret and speak to her with words of passion and desire. He wooed her with his angelic voice and sang to her the ballads of love. Unable to resist his singing, Etain agreed to go with Midhir to his invisible realm but said that she would be unable to leave unless her husband gave his blessing. Midhir bided his time for a whole year and then appeared at Eochaid's stronghold.

"Who are you?" asked the Lord.

"I am Midhir of Bri Leith," replied the Faerie monarch.

"Why have you come here?" asked Eochaid.

"To play a game of fidchell with you," responded Midhir.

Eochaid chuckled. "Then, I hope you are able to lose with a good grace," he said, for he was very proud of his skill at the game. Midhir agreed that he could. Eochaid stroked his chin with a glint in his eye as he said to Midhir, "What will be the stake?"

"I will put up my fifty regal stallions whose coats are dark red like that of the heart's blood," Midhir announced. Eochaid was pleased...and even more delighted when he won. By the following dawn, Midhir had delivered the horses. Then, they played for a richer stake, one which included fifty fiery boats and fifty jewelled swords with golden hilts. Again, Midhir lost and Eochaid received his booty. They decided to play for a third time, but when Eochaid asked what the stake would be, Midhir pondered for a while and then said, "How about whatever the winner names?" Eochaid greedily assented...after all, had he not already beaten Midhir twice? To Eochaid's dismay, however, Midhir proved to be the victor of the third game.

With a smile, Midhir set his arm about Etain's waist, stole a kiss from her lips, and claimed his prize. Eochaid hesitated but, in the name of honor, had no other choice than to admit defeat. He promised to deliver Etain to Midhir after one month had passed. When Midhir arrived at Eochaid's stronghold on the appointed day, he found Eochaid and Etain in the courtyard surrounded by the Lord's warriors, but the ranks parted as the Faerie King strode through. Shifting his weapon from his right hand to his left, Midhir put his arm around Etain and lifted her effortlessly from the ground.

The two soared into the air, flying higher and higher until they turned into swans. Soon, they were no more than mere specks in the cloudless sky, winging their way toward Midhir's bright land. Eochaid swore vengeance on Midhir, saying that he had been swindled and deceived, but he never again saw the Faerie King...or the fair Etain.

(According to Celtic lore, this story of the "Game of Fidchell," an ancient form of chess, is assumed to be what led to the eventual barrier between the Kingdom of Humans and the Realm of Faerie, such that mortals would never again be able to touch faerie gold or partake of faerie food in safety. It is believed that for some time after this event, mortals were still able to cross over into the Faerie World, but would be unable to return unless rescued by another mortal who managed to penetrate the barrier; there are few legends of such salvations. It is written, however, that many mortals still yearned for Faerie lovers and accounts of such liaisons indicate that they were the source of endless sorrow for those unfortunate humans.)