crystal.

[byblow]

FORM: Crystal.
SENDER: Alistair.
RECIPIENT: All y'all.
WHAT: Trouble adjusting.
WHEN: Now!
NOTES: Mwah.

[ There's so much space in the Gallows that there's no logical reason for everyone not to have their own room, especially grown men who are not afraid of the dark and have in fact killed thousands of the things that make the dark scary, and yet

it's sooooo quiiiiiiet. ]

Someone tell the rest of us a bedtime story.

[ Or it was quiet. Now it's not. Everyone is welcome. ]

Comments

[justice_is_blond]

Niklas was a cruel little boy whose favorite meal was sausages. He was always poking the cows with sticks, throwing rocks at the dogs, and spilling the cats' milk. One day he threw a rock at the wrong dog, and the dog bit him. While he was bedridden, the dog ate all of his sausages.

[A beat.]

I hope that gives you sweet dreams.

[The Anderfels have cheerful bedtime stories.]

[byblow]

[ Maybe it's not cheerful if you're a cat person. ]

I do love stories about heroic dogs. Why doesn't the dog have name?

[justice_is_blond]

Perhaps because the story was meant to be told to little boys and not little dogs. But we can give him a name, maybe something common from the region the story comes from. We could call him Detlef.

[limier]

A woodcutter went to his trade, and upon the path he encountered a bear.

"Friend, let us have a test of skill," The bear proposed, "We shall wrestle, and if you win, you may go unharmed. If I win, I shall devour you whole."

Not wishing to be rude — and moreover, not wishing to be eaten — the man accepted.

He rolled up his sleeve, and the bear smoothed down his fur. No sooner had he placed his paw to the man’s hand, when the man snatched up his axe. He chopped off the beast’s arm and threw it far into the forest.

The man knew he ought to finish the bear off, but felt pity, and instead returned home. The bear, who was wounded but not indolent, searched for his arm night and day. When he had his claws at last, he walked out of the woods and found the man.

The bear ripped him to pieces, and tore those pieces into shreds, and tore those shreds into nothing at all. And that is the end of his story, and this.

[ hey, no bears in the gallows! no elf girlfriends either, but take what you can get ]

[byblow]

Do bears have healers, in this story? Or was he holding his arm in his mouth and beating the man with it?

I need to know, to visualize it right.

[limier]

[ a puff of air, not quite a laugh, ]

I always imagined it sort of flopping its way after the rest. The claws would scrape and drag along the path — not unlike the noises of these halls, no? Perhaps the ghost bear of the Gallows,

[ a pause, a small amendment. she's doing her best spooky voice, but it's really kind of shit. ]

The ghost bear's arm,

[arlathvhen]

[ Well. Alistair has entertained her inability to sleep enough times. Thinking for a moment to an appropriate story, Beleth hesitantly begins, growing more sure of her words as the tale progresses. ]

There once was a clan that, while traveling deep in the forest, happened upon elven ruins, the remnants of an old temple. The door was still sealed shut, no matter how hard they pulled, and the Keeper decided to camp there for the night, and look into it the next day. Wisely, she assigned Hunters in shifts to watch the temple doors, for foul creatures were known to roam elven ruins.

One of the Hunters was a young woman named Kywen, and she was known for being a sensible sort. Sensible enough that when she heard a voice calling to her from inside the temple, she elected to ignore it. But the more she listened, the more it compelled her, filling her thoughts, until she could think of nothing else. Finally, she put her hands on the temple doors, and to her surprise, they swung open with ease.

Kywen had only taken a few steps into the temple when the doors slammed shut again, and nothing she could do could get them to open. As the only way was forward, forward she went, until she came to a grand room, with a massive statue to Mythal. At the base of the statue was a man, but when he turned to her, Kywen could tell he was no man. His eyes glowed like veilfire, flames dancing within. She had found a demon.

But there was little choice available to her, and apprehensive, she approached. The demon looked at her like a wolf would upon a hare, sneering. "So, you are the trespasser who has been trampling my grounds." Had he no knowledge of the clan? Kywen decided not to inform him. "If I am a trespasser, you are not the one I am trespassing against, for this is holy ground to Mythal." The demon's eyes blazed in anger, blistering hot, but Kywen did not back down.

"Mythal is gone, and this temple is mine. And I will not tolerate foolish little girls intruding! Tell me why I should not slay you where you stand." Being generally predisposed to not being slayed, Kywen thought quickly. "Give me a chance to prove I am as worthy of being here as you. I challenge you--if you win, then you are the worthy one, and you may kill me thusly. If I win, I am just as worthy as you, and you must let me go."

The demon was unable to turn down such an opportunity, and he agreed. "What kind of challenge?" Kywen had to think quickly again. "A challenge of wits. Let us each give a riddle. If I'm unable to guess yours, you win. If you are unable to guess mine, I win, and you let me go. Do I have a promise?" The demon promised, then gave her his riddle.

"You will always find me in the past. I can be created in the present, But the future can never taint me. What am I?" Kywen could only smile. The answer was, after all, something that all Dalish held close to their heart. "History." She said confidently, and the demon's furious snarl told her that she was right. Then, it was her turn. She chose something else all Dalish held close to their heart, something the demon would never understand.

"I am a ship that can be made to ride the greatest waves. I am not built by tool, but built by hearts and minds. What am I?" The demon took his time thinking, and Kywen could only stare at the statue of Mythal, silently praying. Finally, he gleefully laughed. "A ship in a bottle!" But Kywen's smile made him freeze. "The answer was friendship, demon. I have won."

"Cheater!" The demon screamed, terrifying in his rage. "You have cheated, and I'll kill you for it!" Kywen grabbing her bow as the demon launched himself at her, knowing she wouldn't be able to win, but not willing to go down without a fight. Just as the demon reached her, there was a sudden burst of light, outshining even the demon's veilfire eyes, and Kywen was forced to close her eyes. She heard the demon scream again, but this time, in pain, and as soon as the light dimmed, she opened her eyes.

In front of her stood a woman, terrifying and beautiful, glowing as though made of moonlight. "You dare to claim my temple as yours, you dare to attempt harm upon my people, and finally, you attempt to go against an oath you made. What say you in your defense?" Against the force of Mythal herself--for Kywen quickly recognized her--the demon could broker no argument, and with a wave of her staff, the demon burst into the veilfire that matched his eyes, before disappearing, leaving only a blackened spot on the floor.

Mythal turned to Kywen, and without hesitating, the elf took a knee before her goddess. "Thank you, for my life." But the goddess tutted, making Kywen look back up. "It was not I who saved you. Your wisdom saved your life, I merely punished the demon for breaking his word. You have truly proved yourself worthy. I have waited for many years for someone as wise as you to come to my temple, for wisdom begets wisdom." With that, she handed Kywen a book, ancient and beautiful. "I look forward to seeing what wisdom grows from this." And with that, she was gone.

Kywen emerged from the temple to find her clan in an uproar, worried over what had befallen her. When she told them her story and showed them her book, worry turned to delight, and they celebrated Kywen, sensible and wise, who knew the value of history and friendship.

[ She clears her throat. ]

It's a long one, but it was one I always enjoyed.

[byblow]

Mmmm.

[ It's a compliment that he sounds tired now. That's the point of bedtime stories. ]

Is Kywen one of those heroes with a lot of stories, or just the one?

[indocile]

I am hiding under your bed.

( :D )

[byblow]

Are you? Weird. I'm hiding under yours.

[ —he totally checked, though. ]

[foxsays]

[You let her come get cute underwear so this is a fair trade.]

In the beginning the world was still, the sky and the sea a perfect mirror of one another, and beneath the surface sprawled the great empire that we Castileans would one day build above. But there were no waves, and so little life above, indeed only when a whale, a shark, a dolphin or of course the merfolk and the rest of their kin that only we remember to be real would breach the surface, or when the wind stirred it would it ever move. The sea was so full of life.

Never again would it be so full, but that was her choice to make. There was a whole world, that was her gift to us, and his gift too.

There were those who had already left the sea to explore the land but they could only live on the fringes if they wished to be by the water; they had ships but though the wind might fill their sails a little, how far can men and women row over glass? No one could travel, no could learn, there was no way to make a life.

She knew. She knew that change must come for the good of all, and so she made that sacrifice willingly, with love in her heart.

This mermaid was larger than all the rest, some will say she came from the very depths of the ocean and those places you and I will never see, in truth does it matter when she loved us where she came from? Dark as the night sky was she but for the sea lights the glimmered along her tail and down her back, and of all things in the sea she was loved best, for she slumbered next to his heart. She swam hard and fast, forming a great wave as she swam about the whole world, but it wasn't enough and she began to despair until others joined her. Merfolk, stormhags, sirens all, they swam alongside her, and the whales, the sharks, the dolphins, the porpoises, turtles, fish, every sea serpent, great schools of fish; my darling each and every thing in the sea came to aid her.

The sea aided her. She was beloved by the sea as we all are since it flows in our veins. Remember that. It helped her in her darkest hour, it will help you too, never despair.

At last she rose on a cresting wave, soaring higher than any bird, and in her wake came those strange jellyfish from the greatest depths and the sea set them in the sky with her so that wouldn't be alone. Even now they're still her companions, and we give them names and they will always be our guides, shining in the dark.

The sea who loved her most of all then realised what had happened. He churned himself into a great fury that threatened to cover all the land until she reached out and he followed her, her sea foam cushion turning hard as a pearl in the cold of the night sky. He named her the moon, her companions the stars. But no matter how close she drifted, how high the waves great, they would never touch. She made the waves that brought life, our currents, our rhythms; when the empire below was gone, we had ships and waves upon which to travel, and so we wept our tears into the sea for if our blood is the tears, and our tears are salt, we are giving back what the sea gave us, and we set out to make new lands our homes. We had come from the waves, those of us that had been parted in her sacrifice, and we built new lives for ourselves and those of us in Castileos have always remembered.

Her sacrifice in sundering herself gave life to all the world, life that the sea alone could not but as she was of the sea too, with the sea in her blood, was she not the sea too, as much as you or I my child?

[There's a stop for her to take a drink.]

It's the first tale we learn as a child, often in the cradle or the arms of a parent.

[byblow]

[ A really beautiful story, gorgeous, kind of sad, evocative and nice to imagine, except: ]

What's a mermaid?

[ —sorry. ]

[ipseite]

An old woman lived in a little village with her two daughters, alone many years since her husband had passed. Her elder daughter was prideful and rude, but very much resembled her mother, and so she favored her; the younger daughter was sweet-tempered and patient, but much resembled her father, and so she could not bear her company, and treated her unkindly. Of an afternoon, the younger girl walked through the woods, where it was quiet, and came upon an old woman who begged would she not share her food?

And she was moved to pity, and she gave generously to the old woman. But in truth the woman was a witch! ( :O!!!! ) For the girl's kindness, she rewarded her with a magical blessing: when she spoke henceforth would loveliness drip from her lips, diamonds and pearls, rubies and roses. She ran home to her mother and told her the tale, and greedily did her mother gather up the jewels that fell. Desiring that her elder daughter also have this gift, she bade her walk in the woods, and be generous to that old woman.

But the witch knew the truth of the girl's heart, and her disguise was a new one. In the woods waited a fine princess, as lovely as any at the Duc's court, and when the elder girl walked she begged that she was lost, and would she not guide her out? But the girl laughed at her plight, and was cruel in her refusals, and so the witch revealed herself a second time and placed upon her a magical curse so that when she spoke, henceforth would come from her mouth only dread, toads and vipers and frogs leaping alive. Weeping, she returned to her mother, who in a fury drove the youngest daughter from the house for their misfortune.

A handsome prince found her crying, and his heart broke for her, and he wished only to make her happy - and they were wed, and from her praises of her good husband came much prosperity for their kingdom, while the old crone and her dreadful daughter died alone in poverty.

You must always be kind to witches, for they see inside your true heart.

[alankazam]

Wouldn't it hurt, to spit roses?

[byblow]

Seem like you'd have to be kind to everyone, just in case. Not that that's a problem, but... [ There is no but. And his attention shifts. ] And what if you're a witch in disguise who likes cursing people to have snakes come out of their mouths and you accidentally try to curse a more powerful witch and she curses you back for going around cursing people? And then finds the first girl you cursed a new mother who will raise her better.

[poleaxe]

Once there was a very beautiful woman named Tuiren who married a handsome rich fellow named Ioallan. Little did she know, Ioallan had a mage lover named, uhh, Dealv or something, it'd been ages. Dealy hates that she's been cast aside for a lovelier woman, so she curses Tuiren right good, turns her into a dog. Then Dealvy steals the dog and gives her a bloke by the name of Lliath, famous for hating dogs.

But Tuiren is such a good dog she makes Lliath love dogs like a proper fellow ought. But now Tuiren's mam is leaning on Ioallan, asking where her bloody daughter is, and Iollan finally gets around to figuring that all out. Tracks down Dealy Dealvy, 'cause he knows her like, and begs her to fix whatever she's done to the maid.

Dealv makes Ioallan promise to be true to her and only her, and he agrees, so she changes Tuiren back to a human again. Tuiren is so bloody grateful, she pipes right up and says, "shut your gob and get back to sleep, ain't you got work in the morn?"

[alankazam]

If he hated dogs, why'd he take her?

[byblow]

Heh.

[ That's as close to a laugh as anyone is getting here, and in a good way. That's more like the kind of story he grew up with, on the hips of Eamon's serving staff, back before it was all Chant all the time. ]

But then she goes off with Lliath, right? And a dozen dogs? She'd better.

[youwonscience]

Okay, before I start, honest question - how much murder is too much murder for a bedtime story by local standards?

[JUST CHECKING.]

[byblow]

If we were in Ferelden, I'd say ten. Orlais, five if they're nobility and fifty if they're peasants. But this is Kirkwall, so... two hundred?

[doneisdone]

'Oh, why are you always so bitterly crying?
You surely will make yourself blind.
What reason on earth for such sobbing and sighing,
I pray, can you possibly find?
There is no real sorrow, there's nothing distressing,
To make you thus grieve and lament.
Ah! no; you are just at this moment possessing
Whatever should make you content.


Now do, my dear daughter, give over this weeping,'
Such was a kind mother's advice.
But all was in vain; for you see she's still keeping
Her handkerchief up to her eyes.


But now she removes it, and oh! she discloses
A countenance full of dismay;
For she certainly feels, or at least she supposes
Her eyesight is going away.
She is not mistaken, her sight is departing;
She knows it and sorrows the more;
Then rubs her sore eyes, to relieve them from smarting,
And makes them still worse than before.


And now the poor creature is cautiously crawling
And feeling her way all around;
And now from their sockets her eyeballs are falling;
See, there they are down on the ground.
My children, from such an example take warning,
And happily live while you may;
And say to yourselves, when you rise in the morning,
'I'll try to be cheerful today.'

[alankazam]

If my eyes fell out, [ this is surely the correct order of events, ] I'd be sad too.

[byblow]

You know, this explains a lot.

[sulena]

Is it alright if the story happens to be sung?

[byblow]

More than all right. Unless you're about to put your crystal to a goat's mouth and make it bleat—or, actually, that might help me sleep. So either way. Proceed.