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For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 2, 7:19 AM: |
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For The Price of a Bear :::clears throat::: It was a cold, clear moon-struck night between Here and There. I was looking for an inn to eat, drink and have a bit of rest when the woods around me erupted with the most bloodcurdling roar I have ever heard. Before I could think to find cover the ground shook, the trees creaked and cracked, throwing trunks, twigs, branches and bows around and out of the dark came a Bear, careening as if chased by the Dragons of Hel. I finally dove for cover under ther roots of a toppled tree. Mind you, I have seen Bears in my days, black ones, brown ones, fierce ones and those tethered to a pole in front of establishments like this. But never had I seen a Bear like this one. I didn't see much more of it then, as a flurry of hunters crashed through right beside me, howling like a band of Pictish braves. I am not the kind to seek out trouble, but I just had to see this, so I followed as fast as my pack and legs would allow. The sound of the chase could be heard for miles, so I could easily keep track. Just as I rounded a tree stump near the top of a hill I heard the Bear roar a second time and then a third. He was joined in pitch by the hunters and an ung-dly singing commenced, reaching me from the left from beyond a grove of trees. I turned towards the sound and reached the edge of a clearing just beside what looked to be a wide canyon. The Bear was pressed right up to the edge, on his hind legs the hunters almost on top of him. They were dancing, howling in the most unpleasant manner, sure of their catch. To this day I have no idea what possessed me to do what I did next. I howled. The dancing stopped. The singing stopped. The Bear dropped to all fours. The hunters turned as one. There I was, facing a mob of frenzied hunters and what can only be described as a giant white Bear dressed in armored plates with a studded helmet on his head and I had no idea of what to do next. I took one step forward, trying to project a confidence I did not possess, then I took another step. The hunters did the same, spears and bows lowered but still pointed in my direction. Step by step, without a sound, I and the hunters moved towards each other. Finally I stood right in front of what must have been the leader of the band. When I described them as Pictish braves wasn't far off. Draped in fur against the cold his face was painted in red, yellow and black, and he reeked of stale bear fat, blood and grime. I doubt even a mother could have loved him. He stared at me, I stared at him. I took off my back-pack (which contained all my possessions, including a large pouch full of gold and silver). He followed my movements very closely, turned and muttered something to his companions. They laughed. As I straightened he poked me in the chest with the butt of his spear and grinned. I stooped down, pulled out the pouch, held it so he could see the coins within it. I pointed to the Bear behind them then to the coins and nodded. The Chieftain looked from me to the Bear to the coins. He held up his hand as if to ask me to wait right there, then he turned and the hunters closest to him huddled together. A long conversation took place during which the Bear slowly moved from the edge of the canyon, round in a semi-circle until he stood some ten feet away on my side of the clearing. Finally the Chief turned to me, saw the Bear just a few feet away. He growled in surprise, pointed to the Bear, to my coin pouch and then to each of the garments I was wearing! He was obviously upping the price for this Bear. I looked at the Bear who only snorted at me and shook his head. I quickly pointed to my boots, took of my clothes, one by one until I was standing beneath the cold moon clad in nothing but my loincloth and my boots. The Chief nodded his consent and grabbed my forearm to close the deal. I had just bought myself an armored Bear. And that my Dearies is how I came to travel with that mangy pile of fur over there! :::point to the huge Bear on the other side of the fireplace::: 
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Re: For the Price of a BearNicole said May 2, 7:56 AM: |
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Well that is quite a story! Better keep the armored bear away from the hard liquor though, I hear they have a weakness for the stuff… |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 2, 8:17 AM: |
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With this one the drink is not the problem - food is. He will eat anything at any time as long as it's on a sentient species' menu. I swear that Bear will eat you square out of the house, so make sure to have him pay up front! |
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Re: For the Price of a BearTaikunping said May 2, 8:30 AM: |
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There are supplies aplenty here for all guests. Wonderful story, may be share many a tale here around the fire with you. The ladies love a tale told, especially while sitting relaxed and watching the flames flicker and the logs crackle. Can someone bring in a pile of logs and lay them down by the hearth … |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 2, 9:11 AM: |
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Well, thank you kindly! I would be wanting a place to rest, and don't mind sleeping in the stable with the Bear, if you'd be so kind as to point me there? |
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Re: For the Price of a BearNicole said May 2, 9:15 AM: |
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thanks for the warning about yon bottomless pit! :) |
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Re: For the Price of a BearTaikunping said May 2, 9:22 AM: |
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The stable is not the usual accommodation on offer at Talespinner's but I am sure the friendly innkeeper would oblige the wishes of his guests as to the type of abode for relaxation and rest. He is resting at present, but will be up with the lark no doubt and singing a merry tune…. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 2, 9:41 AM: |
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I understand, alas, my furry companion has a nasty habit of snoring very loudly, so he prefers to sleep where he knows his sleeping habits will not disturb other guests. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearMeenakshi said May 2, 10:30 AM: |
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Well, yer stirring tale woke ME up, young feller. You can't sleep now. Now how about another tale?[and that snoring pile of ….?] We'll sing loud to drown HIM down. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSúigh Dílis [no longer around] said May 2, 12:03 PM: |
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From the far end of the room a roar of approval and applause comes from the innkeep. He fills up a flagon of his frothy best and strides up to the man, eyeing the bear a tad bit cautiously, but for the most part fearing it not. Firmly thrusting the mug into the man's hand, he says… |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 2, 12:59 PM: |
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:::grabbing the flagon, drinking deeply, he smiles from ear to ear:::
Thank you Inn keep! That ale was welcome and the warmth and kindness of your establishment too! Your stable for the Bear and me will be fine. The road's been long today, I trust that we will be asleep before both eyes are closed! :::poking the Bear with a boot tip he makes for the door, smiling at the other patrons as he turns to the Bear:::: Time to go, you flea infested rug, let's get some sleep. There'll be more ale and tale tomorrow! |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 2, 4:51 PM: |
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::::clears throat::::
After losing my coin and my clothes in the bargain for the Bear I naturally had to find a way to clothe myself again. The Bear has his thick pelt, but I, I need clothes on my bones. We made it out of the woods and eventually found an inn where the innkeeper was kind enough to let me work for board as well as a set of proper clothes and a few coins which I could save for the road. I have to say that the state of his stables was deplorable compared to the stable of this here fine inn. The muck lay two feet deep and there was no telling the sheep from the pigs other than by sound. Took me two weeks to get it clean and then another two to clean the pigs and the sheep. But no matter, this tale isn't about pigs, muck or sheep - this tale is yet another telling of the deeds of the Bear there. We had gone to sleep, my snoring friend and I, in the stables as usual. Not expecting anything out of the ordinary we were woken in the middle of the night by the most horrifying howling. Belying his size the Bear scrambled to his feet and rushed to the door with an agility that would make an acrobat envious. I followed close behind a tad shaken by the eerie undulations of sound from outside. We stuck our heads out the door and saw nothing. I grabbed a torch from the hamper at the door, lit it and saw nothing. There was nothing outside, besides what had been there at dusk, a cart, a wagon load of barrels and the innkeeper's big ugly dog, which was now straining at his chain, howling too as if his life depended on it. The sound had woken the entire inn and within minutes from our departure from the stable the yard was full of patrons with torches in their hands. Some looked to be on the brink of panic, others as if they were still asleep and then there was this Company of Travelers who had come up from the field where they had made their camp. They looked sober, present and somewhat happy as they listened to the sound, which was now very clearly coming from the woods behind the stables. They were obviously talking amongst themselves about what they heard, and since they were coherent, the Bear and I joined them. “It's the Queen!” one of them said, looking sad and happy at the same time. “The Queen is dead!” I stepped up and asked in a general direction, “What Queen?” A young woman, maybe not older than her mid-teens, dressed in a deep red tunic and long loose breeches answered, “The Queen of the Fairies! The Queen has died and what you hear is the Great Horn calling for a new Queen to come and take her place…” She was interrupted as a shrill sound much higher in pitch than the previous waves of sound filled the air, this time from the opposite direction of the woods behind the stable. “There's more”, the woman continued after listening for a moment to the new sound. “That's the horn of the new Queen saying that the new Queen has gone missing!” The Travelers looked at each other, at me and now began to sound much like the general inn population, slightly panicky. “So, I said, pulling the young woman to the side. “Why isn't anyone looking for her, I mean if they know she's missing she must have been gone for at least a day, right?” I ventured a look at the Bear. He had decided to do what he does best when he is not addressed directly, eating or drinking, leisurely cleaning his already immaculately burnished Armor. He wasn't going to let himself be carried away. The young woman laughed and waved for a tall nimble figure, all covered in brown clothing, with a grayish beard and green eyes to join us. After introducing him as her Uncle she repeated my question to him. Looking at me as if he wondered if I could be eaten he explained, “No-one knows where the Queen goes to die or where the Queen-to-be goes to prepare for her ascension to the throne. It's a Secret no-one but the Wood Dwellers know.” As he spoke the way he looked at me changed from that of predator looking at prey, to a look of deep concern. He started to turn away, but I stopped him. “Wood Dwellers?” I asked, “Who are they?” He turned to me again, this time he smiled wryly. “Such as that One over there”, he said, pointing to my big hairy friend with the Armor who was now sharpening his clawed bracers, smiling to himself, though it looked more like snarling. “Bears?” I looked at him, not quite sure I had understood. “You are saying that the Bear knows where she is?” He nodded, moving away, then when he had almost reached the small gathering of Travelers, he turned. “He and any other four legged creature in the woods. You ask him.” He laughed at my incredulous face and turned towards his Traveler friends. As if they had done what they came for, they all turned towards their camp on the field, and within seconds they were gone, swallowed by the shadows of the night. I was left to stare at the Bear. The howling had subsided and was now barely audible - it was still there, but I had to strain to hear it. I looked around and realized that the only ones still moving about outside the inn was myself, the big ugly dog and the Bear, who was barely moving where he sat and filed away on his equipment. I was still holding the lit torch so everything outside its reach was held in darkness to my eyes. As I came up to the Bear, intent on asking him about the Queen of Fairies, he anticipated my query and my questions never made it out of my mouth. “If she's really missing, she could be anywhere, but I don't think she's missing”. His big furry face didn't change expression even a tad, it was soft and relaxed, showing full concentration on what he was doing. “What do you mean you don't think she is missing?” I asked, sharper than I intended. “The Travelers said that the Horns said she's missing!” He raised his head towards me, letting go of his work and tilting his head slightly, apparently amused at my tone. “The Travelers don't know everything, and their ears aren't as keen as mine. There was more to the Call than they can discern.” He stood up, towering over me like a giant mountain of fur, bones and muscles. I had long since stopped feeling intimidated by his size, but it still impressed me. Turning his head towards me he smiled. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, blowing a gush of warm air in my direction. He might have picked up all his gear on the way out of the stables but I had not. “Give me ten minutes to pick up my stuff and I am ready!” I ran to the stables. Being a tradesman and a tale spinner I carry no other weapons than a long knife for self-defense and a bow an' quiver for hunting and of course my stash of tradeables along with a bed roll and the clothes on my body. Quickly pulling everything together I rushed out again and clambered on to the Bear's back. It's very convenient to have a traveling companion/body guard that you can ride! I need his companionship more than I need his fighting skills, as it seems that merely traveling with him makes me less of a target of thugs and highwaymen. When I had settled comfortably on his back, he moved away from the inn, into the dark of the night in search of a lost Queen-to-be. ::::looks at his audience with a warm smile and says:::: My throat is dry so you will simply have to wait for the continuation a bit. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearTaikunping said May 3, 2:46 AM: |
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what a tale to tell, I am all agog, another flagon of your best “Talespinner's Ale” if you please, and maybe another for the road… |
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Re: For the Price of a BearNicole said May 3, 8:24 AM: |
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oh, continuing stories, love those! |
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Re: For the Price of a BearTaikunping said May 3, 11:27 AM: |
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just settling by the fire and reviving myself a little with a drink, the flames of the fire are dancing and casting a wonderful light on everyones faces, as we make ourselves comfortable….I can smell a wonderful aroma of freshly cooked food coming from the kitchen… |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 3, 5:38 PM: |
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::::enters the Tavern, followed by the Bear, waves to the patrons near the Fireplace:::: ah an waiting audience, well you flatter me, ladies and gentlemen! 'tis but the tellings of a journeying tradesman, naught more. Now let me just get a tankard of that fine ale and a bit of roast to wash it down with and there will be more to this tale. ::::smiles and walks to the bar end of the Tavern, gets a tankard of ale and a leg of roast mutton then returns to the fireplace and his chair then commences to eat in silence, finishes off the leg of roast mutton, throws the bone on the fire and clears throat:::: We forewent the common roads as we traveled first westward through a dense forest for a day and a half until it opened towards wide open barley and rye fields. There we turned southward for another day and a half. On the eve of the fourth day our journey was halted by a river. There was no ford in sight, no bridges and no boats or ferries. I shivered, because this meant I would have to swim. I don't like swimming. It's cold and wet, and it gets even colder and wetter when you get out of the water. Having to swim fully clothed only prolongs the discomfort of being cold and wet. But, as the Bear pointed out to me if I was to go with him I had to cross that river. He offered to carry my pack of tradables on his head, and I accepted. Mentally assuring myself that my belongings were securely tied either to the Bear or to me I was finally ready to go in the water. The Bear was already out there, looking stupid with my belongings on his head like an over sized Moorish turban, and he was heckling me. The Great White Bears of the North of which Armored Bears are descendants are excellent swimmers and actually enjoy the cold and wet. “Come on, it's not that cold!”, the Moorish turban bobbed up and down on the river surface. “Afraid the nighter will get you? You are too scrawny to draw any interest, you silly hairless bag of bones!” The Moorish turban swiveled and bobbed as the Bear turned and began swimming towards the opposite shore. Full of dread I threw myself into the water. Aaaaaaaargh, it was so cold! I tried to swim as fast as I could, to get out a quickly as possible. I had swum half way when something touched my left foot! Something or some-one was swimming beneath me in the water! The Bear was just clambering out of the water on the other side, which by now was almost blanketed in darkness due to the approaching hour of dusk, so he was no help. I turned my head this way and that trying to see what it might be - but to no avail. It touched me twice more as I swam and when I finally reached the shore I was in a state of near panic, and rushed out of the water, not the least aware of the cold and the wet. “There's something down there, in the water!”, I gasped and pointed, trying to rouse the Bear to the possible danger. His face, grayed by the shadows of dusk, opened in an amused chuckle. “Of course there is something down in the water, it's called fish!” He shook himself several times to get rid of the last water in his fur. ” Then he froze. Looking straight at the river he indicated for me to look too. I turned and what I saw will never leave my memory as long as I live. Half way to the half way point of the river an enormous blueish scaled head with giant luminous green eyes peered at us. Behind the head was a long slender neck that seemed to be covered in spikes slightly darker than the head. My friend the Bear and I stood there for maybe two minutes, transfixed by the sight. It seemed that the Creature was equally transfixed by us, but eventually it broke eye contact, snorted, blinked and turned slowly towards the middle of the river and in a few long breaths it disappeared beneath the surface. I knew that what I had just seen was a River Wyrm. They are supposed to be legend only, a matter for bards and poets, something better tale spinners than I might fill their tales with. And here I had just been face to face with one! Still shook by the encounter with the River Wyrm we decided to make camp for the night there on the river shore. The Bear went hunting and I worked up a sweat and body heat to dry my clothes by scouring the area for fire wood. By the time the Bear returned with a grown river capybara I had built a nice fire and was sitting as close to it as I could to soak up the warmth and dry of the flames. I really hate being cold and wet! Soon we were busy munching on the giant rodent, silently enjoying each other's company, thinking about the River Wyrm. Dusk had come and gone, the stars were mixing with the sparks from the fire when the Great White Bear at my side broke the silence. “You know, I wasn't always a traveling bodyguard more often being chased by hunters for my pelt than actually doing an honest day's work. I used to be one of King Valemon's hirdmen. Once I was known as Valdemar Ragnvaldsen, King Valemon's second in command. I was there for his wedding, and I was there for the naming of his children. I was there for his death and his funeral.” He broke off as if he felt that he had said too much, poked the fire with the stick we had used to spear and roast the capybara. I said nothing. What could I say? There had been no need for me to know or him to tell. Perhaps now, with the image of a River Wyrm still fresh in his mind he felt that becoming more to me than 'The Bear' was important? I fed the fire another bundle of broken branches and as the fire flared skyward he continued his tale. “After the King's death, while his funeral pyre was still glowing embers, the Royal Manor was attacked by wild hoards from the North lead by the King of Trolls, the brother of the Hag that King Valemon had killed on the bridge to his Mountain Fort.” He faltered, drew a couple of breaths and proceeded. “We were all grieving, there had been no preparations for battle, the draw bridges were down and there were only a few guards on post. So the dozen of us, all Armored Bears, closest to the King while he lived did what we could to drive the enemy off to give the mourning people some time to gather and set up some defense, but it was too late. We managed to kill the King of Trolls, but after that we fell one by one, until I was the only one left still breathing. I was wounded and was left for dead just outside the Manor. I don't know how long I lay there, but I could hear the butchering that went on on the other side of the shallow moat. It was horrible. Screaming, yelling, the smoke and most of all the smell of death and burning! As night fell, quiet came and I could finally get away. I crawled into the nearby woods, found a root burrow and fell asleep. I slept for I don't know how long, and when I finally woke I was feverish and in need of a healer. I got out of the root burrow and started southward. I collapsed on the shoulder of a road and the next thing I know I was indoors tightly packed up in the skins of my mute brothers from the North and an old weathered codger was stirring a pot of wonderfully smelling stew hanging over a fire. I healed up. I stayed with the old healer for most of a year, watching his sheep and guarding his one field of turnips and learning some of his craft. We didn't speak much beside the words needed for his herb craft. He didn't ask where I came from and I didn't tell, but I am sure he knew. One morning, returning from the sheep pen, I found my armor, bracers and helmet neatly stacked, repaired, cleaned and burnished to a fine shine, beside the door. I knew it was time to leave. He came outside, nodded and gave me a pack of herbs, ointments and other basic supplies, turned his back and went back in.” The Giant Bear heaved a sigh, looked at me and muttered. “Quite a tale, huh? You bought yourself a fine bodyguard indeed, a shamed King's Hirdman who couldn't even guard a funeral pyre properly!” Again I felt that there was nothing I could say and yet I needed to say something. I poked around in the fire, looked at him and responded. “Quite a tale, Valdemar Ragnvaldsen, but not of shame. Just the tale of a warrior doing warrior business. You kill any thugs and highwaymen the way you killed the King of Trolls, and you'll do well!” I fell silent and after a few more sparks from the fire he nodded. The moon had risen and the river beside our camp reflected her light as it ran deep and cold. It was time for sleep. I wrapped myself in my cloak and made myself comfortable on my bedroll and heard Valdemar, the Armored Bear, roll himself into a pile of white fur that reflected the moon almost as brightly as the river. ::::falls silent and stares into the fire::::  |
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Re: For the Price of a BearTaikunping said May 4, 1:13 AM: |
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feeling reflective, I stare into the fire, the smoke curls itself into tendrils, I drift into a deep, but dreamless sleep…. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearNicole said May 4, 8:22 AM: |
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the dancing flames reveal images from the story. They form, leap and expire - the River Wyrm coiling long and lovely, the fierce trolls, the healer… in the silence, a small explosion of a piece of wood bursting into flame makes us jump then smile. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearMikey_Dee said May 4, 12:24 PM: |
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And outside the carefully shuttered tavern a terrible howling rises, The ladies snuggle closer to the fire, their eyes bright with fear!  |
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Re: For the Price of a BearTaikunping said May 5, 4:35 AM: |
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The eerie noise of the owl soon subsides, there is happy chat around the fire once again, food is ordered and more tales are told of days of old…. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearNicole said May 5, 6:43 AM: |
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The next day dawned bright and clear. The songs of the birds sweetly woke the travelers from their slumbers and they wandered severally from their sleeping chambers in search of breakfast. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearMikey_Dee said May 5, 10:02 AM: |
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And the dawn chorus told the story of the queen in the morning song. Fortunately, one in the tavern was well versed in the interpretation of bird song- He had studied Zoology, and like Dr. Dolittle of yore, The Animals, howls, whinnies, screeches, neighs, barks, miaows & Songs held no secrets from him. ” Them, there Birds are revealing the whereabouts of The Queen”, he announced, surprising one and all, ” She is seated here nearest the fire they say”  |
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Re: For the Price of a BearNicole said May 5, 2:56 PM: |
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Ah, is our Queen here? :) |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSúigh Dílis [no longer around] said May 5, 10:49 AM: |
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((Dov, can I place this in my bookshelf?)) |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 5, 11:40 AM: |
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((Yes, Kyle. :D Thanks for asking. It ain't done though, but I sorta got stuck…but I am planning on at least getting them to the Queen-to-be)) |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSúigh Dílis [no longer around] said May 5, 12:54 PM: |
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The innkeep merely sits on a stool behind the bar, his feet up on it while his arm rests on a space of the shelf kept clear of bottles for this very purpose. He listens intently to the man's story, nodding, frowning and smiling with a twinkle in his eye when appropriate. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearNicole said May 6, 7:44 AM: |
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*peeking in hopefully to see if the Bear man has continued the story* |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 7, 6:22 PM: |
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:::standing by the fire, tankard of ale in hand, clears throat:::
After resting for a day by the river, thoroughly enjoying ourselves fishing and cleaning both ourselves and in my case, my clothes, we continued south into a rolling hill country. Around midday on the sixth day of our journey we climbed atop a hilltop where Valdemar pointed at a far away mountain range that cloaked itself in the blue haze of distance. “That's where we are going”, he said without taking his eyes off the horizon. “How do you know that?”, I asked, looking at the rolling green before us, thinking that it seemed like an awfully long way with a lot of unknowns between us and the mountains. After all I am just a tradesman and a tale spinner, I don't go gallivanting across unmapped and untracked territory, I keep on the roads and among people. “The Trees are telling me”, he replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world that Giant White Bears talk to Trees. “Trees and Fairies are family in a sense. They watch each other, help each other and they keep track of each other. If the Trees tell me that a Fairy came this way two days ago, then I am certain a Fairy passed this way two days ago.” With that he trudged off down the hillside. I didn't relish having to go back to charted territory on my own, so I followed. We pressed on for another three days, almost in a straight line from the river and the mountains came closer and closer. We didn't meet a soul, except those of our prey. Just before dusk on the ninth day we came to the ruins of an old temple, which I found a rather odd find in an area that was obviously wilderness. Valdemar then told me that back in the times of King Valemon's great-great-great grand sire the mountains whose foothills we were crossing into had been full of silver and copper mines. The area had been quite densely populated because of the richness of silver and copper. We divided the chores of making camp between us as we had all the way through our travels, which meant that the Great Bear went hunting for our supper and I made the fire. While we waited for the two rabbits Valdemar had caught to be ready to eat he told me some more about how he was tracking the disappeared Queen-to-be. ‟It’s not just the Trees,“ he said. ‟It’s as if I can see her. Fairies don’t leave scent trails, but they leave a sense trail and that trail can be followed if you have the right eyes and the right ears.“ I still didn’t understand. I said as much. He continued. ‟Remember how, if a torch is moved very fast through the air, the light seem to stream out behind it and leave a ’light trace’ on the dark around? And how when you close your eyes you can see that light trace on the inside of your eyelids only in blue-purple?“ He looked at me, I nodded. ‟That’s it - a Fairy leaves that sort of light trace behind when it moves about, only it’s not light, it’s more like emotions and thoughts. I can ’see’ that trace. Some times very faint and some times very clearly. Here for instance the trace is very faint, but it tells me that she came this way and that she is headed into the mountains, perhaps two day ago.“ He fell silent, turned the rabbits over and announced that they were almost done. The light from the fire cast odd dancing shadows on the decaying walls around us, and I had no problem imagining the ’light trail’ left by the Queen-to-be swirling about us. When the rabbits were eaten Valdemar looked at me, head tilted, a slight frown just above his dark eyes. ‟Why did you come after the hunters that night? Why did you bargain with them?“ He poked at a piece of firewood with a toe, his big furry feet dwarfing it to the size of a twig. I thought about his questions, and really didn't know the answers. ‟I don't know,“ I said. ‟I guess the sight of huge white Bear followed by a howling mob of painted, armed hooligans roused my curiosity. As for why I bargained with the hunters for you. I didn't have any weapons, I am not a warrior, and I really needed a bodyguard/travel companion, I still do, you were there and it seemed like a good solution for us both. He laughed. I couldn't help but wonder if he felt as if I owned him, since technically I had bought him, even if his pelt technically wasn't the hunters' to sell before they had removed it from his carcass. I looked at him and asked just that. He roared with laughter for the next minutes, the ground shaking beneath us. When he eventually stopped laughing he poked me rather roughly and said. “Let's say that you hired me for the duration of your travels, and I will leave you my pelt once I am dead. That's a good deal for you. First you get my services for as long as you need them, and then you get my highly prized pelt when I am dead, not bad for a third-rate trader! I laughed and thought about this whole journey. Not once had he questioned the legitimacy of my 'purchase', nor had he queried me about me, who I was or where I came from. Somehow we had just struck up this awkward companionship, he for his personal reasons and I for my personal reasons, and neither of us seemed to have any regrets about it. As I sat wrapped in my own thoughts I saw him bank the fire and ready a corner of the ruins for sleep, staking out part of it with his removed armor. I got up and added my bedroll to the ensemble and soon we were both soundly asleep. We both awoke just before dawn the next morning, roused by the sound of someone or something rummaging through our belongings. There was no moon, so without a torch or a full fire it was impossible to see anything but the shadowy outlines of something small and hairy moving next to my pack of tradables. I heard the roar when Valdemar threw himself across the small space, landing with a clank and a huff almost on top of whatever it was that was helping itself to the contents of my pack. By the time I had hauled out my tinderbox and lit a tree branch wrapped in long dry grass the sounds had changed from huff and puffs and high pitched shrieks to serious swearing in two keys. I thrust the makeshift torch in the direction of the commotion and swearing, and what I saw will be with me forever. The huge white Bear was standing on his hind legs, trying to free himself from a tiny furry creature that was clinging on to his neck and had taken a fierce hold of his ears and obviously refused to let go, no matter what the Big Bear did.<br /> :::stops to drink from the tankard:::: |
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Re: For the Price of a BearTaikunping said May 8, 8:46 AM: |
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The room awoke from the silence that had fallen upon it as The Talespinner spoke in his rich tones…The faces of the country folk were glowing from the ale and good food and enthralling tale … now there was some shuffling and movement as the men went to the bar for more refreshments. The ladies politely excused themselves and the bear went outside to do what bears do…… |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 8, 12:58 PM: |
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:::As the room fills up again after the brief pause the storyteller prepares for another segment of his story, putting his empty tankard by his feet he beckons to the Innkeep for a refill and clears his throat:::
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 8, 12:53 PM: |
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“Don't just stand there, help me!” Valdemar yelled. He was throwing himself from side to side, grabbing at the creature that had pinned itself to his head and neck. Each time his giant paws came close he would be rewarded with a quick but obviously painful nip from the tiny creature's even tinier mouth, resulting in gargantuan howls from the Bear. It was quite comical. I rushed in, and got a firm hold of the creature's long tail which it had coiled around Valdemar's neck for extra grip. After several minutes during which both I and Valdemar bloodied our fingers and paws further on the creature's sharp teeth, Valdemar managed to get a hold of its scruffy neck and pulled it off his head. Hanging 10 feet above ground from the Bear's big front paw, it sputtered, hissed and trashed, obviously very upset.
“Let me go, you evils!” it shrieked. I don't think I had expected it to speak, let alone hear it speak in a human tongue. I was intrigued. Valdemar on the other hand didn't seem at all surprised to hear the small creature speak. He growled in response, the creature shrieked and fell silent as well as quite still in his grip. “Hold it there, let me tie it up”, I said and turned towards my pack for some leather strips. “Tie it up!?” the Bear bellowed. “Are you insane, it tried to rob us blind, it trashed our fingers and paws bloody, and you want to tie it up!? Why?” “I want to keep it,” I responded. “It speaks, it can obviously think and I want to know more about this creature.” Having found the leather strips I returned to the Bear and the creature which seemed to be about half my size. “I can tell you everything about it!” Valdemar growled. “It's a Wolie. They are pests. Thieves and murderers! Yes, they can speak human tongue, but they are still thieves and murderers!” He shook the Wolie, glaring at it. He was rewarded with a big glob of spit and a shrieking sputter. “I still want to keep it! I said. “Ok, you want to keep it, but right now I am the one in possession of it, so what do you give me in trade for it?” the Bear looked at me, obviously serious. “You want me barter you for it?!” I looked at the Bear, incredulous. He nodded. “You…” I had no words. But if he was that serious…”Sure!” I said. “I'll give you half the contents of my pouch for it! Now, please hold it so I can tie it up.” The Bear erupted in a belly laugh that made the walls around us bulge out from the shock wave. He had been putting me on! Oh the deviousness of…I wished all the Dragons of Hel on him and joined his laughing. We tied up the Wolie being careful to muzzle it so it would not gnaw of the leather strips, made it comfortable in a pile of leaves in the other corner and went back to sleep for what was left til dawn. It was mid-morning before we woke. I transferred half of the contents of my pouch to Valdemar's belongings and untied the Wolie's legs. Then I led it to the fire I had made while waiting for the Bear to return with breakfast, careful not to scrape the nasty little cuts on my fingers. He had found a small brook and came back with three large river salmon. His front paws seemed to have fared well too. As he prepared the fish just outside the riuns I tried to have a conversation with my new acquisition, which was now sitting on a stone close to the fire. In day light I could see its colors quite clearly. Its fur was a deep dark copper with coal colored markings on legs, head and tail. “So, you are a Wolie, what's your name?” I asked as I packed up our belongings in two bundles. There was no answer. “Hey, I heard you speak last night, I know you can speak. Speech means you're civilized, civilized creatures have names - so what's your name?” I looked over at the Bear. “That over there, is Valdemar Ragnvaldsen, he is an Armored Bear from the North”. I pointed to myself. “I am Yonathan of Riverfield, tradesman and tale spinner.” The Wolie looked at me with contempt, shook its tied up fists at me and spat on the ground. “You evils!” it muttered. “You untie the Wolie first! Then the Wolie tell you name.” I looked at the small furry creature. It seemed that everyone on this trip wanted to bargain with the tradesman. The Bear would kill it if I released it, that had become clear during the nights discussion, even if it had not been said. I nodded my head in the Bear's direction and looked the Wolie square in the eye. “I untie you and you run, the Bear will kill you for trying to steal from us, you know that, so I'll have to ask that you give your word that you will not run or try to steal our things again, is that acceptable?” The Wolie looked at me, obviously thinking over his options. “Yonathan of Riverfield give protection against Bear?” the Wolie asked. “Yes,” I said. “Yonathan of Riverfield give protection against the Bear.” I silently blessed Providence that I had had the foresight to transfer the 'agreed' price for the Wolie to Valdemar's belongings. “Then Wolie give word”, it said and thrust its bound hands towards me. I untied the leather strips. The Wolie massaged its wrists. “Wolie name is Cloudy Sun, son of Dark Moon.” he straightened up as he said his name. The Bear returned from outside the ruins with the three salmons freshly cleaned. He saw the Wolie untied and roared his protest, forming a huge fist with the paw not holding the fish. I stepped over to him, holding out my hands palms up. “Remember I bargained you for him, he is legally mine!” The Bear looked at me, the Wolie and then back to me. “Besides I gave my word that I would protect him against you.” I said, hoping that it would add to the boundaries I put around the Wolie. “Where's the payment?” He growled. “It's in your belongings, I transferred them while your were hunting.” I pointed to a blue cloth bundle I had laid on top of his armor. He thrust the fish at me and went to the bundle, opened it and saw that I had indeed paid the price we had agreed on. I took the three fish, spitted them and sat down beside Cloudy Sun. It was obvious to me that Valdemar had some serious issues where Wolies were involved. It was no idea talking to the Bear at the moment. He would have to work out his feelings on his own. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearTaikunping said May 9, 6:56 AM: |
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After the Talespinner had settled down with a refill of ale, the ladies huddled round the warming fire, pulling their shawls tight around their bodies. Looking nervously around, half expecting a Wolie to jump out at them from the shadows of the Tavern ….The men didn't seem bothered and laughed heartily at one anothers jokes, and swigged back their ale…It was noticed that they laughed rather louder than usual and drank a little quicker than normal….. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 9, 9:53 AM: |
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:::smiling to himself the Tale spinner empties his refill in a few large gulps and clears his throat::: |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 9, 9:46 AM: |
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By the time we had finished off the fish, cleared out the fire and tied our packs to satisfaction it was almost noon. We left the ruins single file. The Bear first, in full armor with his blue bundle tied to his back walking at a slightly faster pace than before on the journey, making it very clear that he wanted some space between himself and the Wolie. I trudged on behind, at my own pace, some times stopping to wait for the Wolie who seemed to be foraging on his way through the trees. I guess he wasn't too impressed with roasted fish for breakfast. It also seemed that he used his swinging through the trees to collect some gear, because at one point he appeared beside me, wearing some sort of body armor and carrying a crossbow and quiver. Across his chest I saw a leather strip that seemed to be plated with small saw toothed discs. So, the little critter was a warrior… I lost sight of the Bear a couple of times, but only for a minute or two. He would appear sitting on a log or stone further up the track that he made through the vegetation, rise and continue on without looking at me or the Wolie. As we advanced through the foothills of the mountains, daylight lost its brilliance, filtering through the leaves and surrounding trees, and it became hard to keep track of time. Eventually, when it became too dark to make out the difference between Cloudy Sun's darker and lighter fur, we stopped and made camp. There really wasn't much for us to do at this point. The Bear was still giving me and the Wolie the silent treatment, and it made no sense to try and breach the wall he had built around himself.
One of the benefits of having the Wolie with us was that fruits and herbs made it to our camp, along with the wild boar piglets Valdemar caught. I made the fire as usual, and in addition to the firewood I found a natural well where I filled our water skins and managed to clean my smarting hands. It was going to be a while before I forgave Cloudy Sun the mess he had made of my hands! We went to sleep in silence. Two days and nights went by, as we ascended the mountains and the Bear still wasn't talking to us. He would have to soon, because even if he could track the Queen-to-be I could not, and we were basically where he had claimed we were going. I would have to force myself on the stubborn fur bag somehow. By camp time on the third day of silence I followed Valdemar at a short distance when he went hunting so I could accompany him back to camp when he had caught what he wanted. After he had caught and killed two large forest hares he turned, I stepped up in front of him, blocking the path back to camp. “I get that you don't like that Cloudy Sun is with us, but you can't make him go away by avoiding both me and him.” He looked at me without blinking. “Here's the deal, my friend, either tell me what makes you so adverse to his presence or let go of your grudge and accept that this 'party' now has a third full member!” He kept staring for a while. I waited. Then he broke the silence. “What makes you the one to make those decisions? As far as I can see I am still the largest here, the one fixing the food and the one who knows where we are going. Why should I have to accept your decisions?” He was right. I had indeed dumped my decision on him without asking him. “You're right, Valdemar. I should have asked you. I am sorry, my friend”. He looked at me and nodded. Then he said. “I don't like Wolies. I was taught that they mean nothing but trouble. That they are trained as thieves and assassins from a very young age, and in the Hird we considered it bad luck if we had to face them in battle, because they fight dirty. They don't use normal weapons like you and me, they never face their enemies when in battle, they strike from behind, from a distance with weapons that cannot be seen until it's too late. They are not honorable. They plunder the dead, even their own dead and sell what they have plundered. They have no honor!” He spat on the ground in disgust. “Alright, that's fair enough”, I said. It sure did explain why Valdemar Ragnvaldsen seemed to hate the Wolie. I wasn't sure I liked Wolies much after hearing the Bear's angle on them. But I still needed him to not stiff-neck me out of his counsel. “How about we do it this way: You won't have to deal with Cloudy Sun in any way, but you accept that I do. I want him along, he intrigues me and I want to know more about his kind. I can't tell you why, because I readily don't know, but I do want to know.” I turned my palms up in a gesture of supplication and hoped he would accept. He stood an arms length away and just stared at me for a long while. Then he removed his bracers and placed his paws over my hands. “Done”, he said. “But keep the little thief away from me!” With that he pushed by me back to our camp. I followed. Back at our camp the Wolie had stacked firewood in a neat pile beside the fire and brought a large sample of seeds and fruits which he had laid in a small pit he'd dug. I wondered if the Bear noticed the offering of peace on the part of the Wolie. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearNicole said May 9, 12:26 PM: |
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Nice Wolie! :) |
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Re: For the Price of a BearTaikunping said May 10, 2:33 AM: |
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everyone in the tavern was wondering about Cloudy Sun, was he to be trusted, only time will tell…. |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSúigh Dílis [no longer around] said May 11, 12:24 PM: |
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((Sheesh… I have a lot to catch up on in this thread when I get some time to sit down and just read… :D I've been getting my life and thoughts in order at a furious pace…)) |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said May 11, 1:30 PM: |
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(sorry, can't make it less:)) |
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Re: For the Price of a BearSillyOldBear said Jun 1, 5:05 AM: |
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:::looks apologetically around the room and clears throat::: Next morning the fire was already burning when I woke up. The Wolie was nowhere to be seen, neither was the Bear. Even though the Wolie had given me his word that he would not run away, the thought did cross my mind, and I cursed silently to myself. There wasn't much for me to do, but ready my pack and wait for the Bear to return with breakfast. When he did return he was dragging a huge bull źubr behind him. That was a whole lot more food than we could eat in one or two meals. Before I could ask the Bear answered. “We are going into the mountain in the next couple of days. We can't hunt inside the mines and caverns, so we will have to bring our food with us.” He let go of the ox. He looked around and realized that the Wolie wasn't there. “Where's the Wolie?” he asked, turning to the dead źubr and proceeded to skin it. “I don't know”, I responded. “When I woke you were both gone. I guess he will either turn up soon or he left.” He didn't respond. I supposed that he was just glad if Cloudy Sun had left. As Valdemar came up to the fire with three pieces of źubr neatly spitted, the undergrowth behind me crashed and cracked loudly. I sprung up, reflexively turning as I did. The Bear was already right beside me. The crashing and cracking stopped abruptly as Cloudy Sun appeared dragging a simple sled behind him. It was loaded with a bundle of what looked like tanned leather, a few poles of equal length, an another bundle which looked like a covered back-basket. It was quite amazing that the little creature managed to move such a load. But there he was. “Help Wolie”, he said, letting go of the long poles that made up the sides of the makeshift sled. “Help Wolie load off!” The Bear and I stepped up closer. The Wolie started to untie the contents of sled and pointed for us to move them over to the other side of the fire, close to the edge of the clearing that had been our camp for the night. We did without a word. “Going into Mountain”, he said. “Need food. Now Wolie build smoke tent.” I looked quizzically at the Wolie. I had seen and even dug smoke pits - simple pits in the ground about six feet deep with a covered fire at the bottom over which meat and fish were hung on poles that ran the width of the pit. But I had never heard of a smoke tent, much less seen or built one. Cloudy Sun proceeded to place two foot long pegs about 7 feet apart which he connected with a string, then he placed third peg 5 feet across from the second and finally a fourth peg 5 feet across from the first one, and finally he connected them all with the string. Having marked out the placement of the smoke tent the Wolie placed six poles, three at each end of the rectangle so they crossed each other at the top, forming a simple tripod and secured them with string at the top, next he placed a longer pole on top of the two tripods and secured it with string. Now he proceeded to build a fire inside the rectangle, running lengthwise. He didn't light it, instead he went and fetched a tightly rolled up mass of tanned leather, which, when he had placed it around the frame of poles turned out to be a neatly sewn tent. There were smallish holes in the sides, one row of holes evenly spaced about half-way up and one row of evenly spaced holes near the top. He proceeded, with the help of the Bear, to place thin, smooth poles through the holes. Now he went into the woods and came back a short time later with a large bundle of freshly cut branches which he placed on the poles that were in the middle of the tent, covering the fire. “Now Bear bring meat”, he said. Valdemar went over to the zubr and cut it into easy-to-pack-and-carry pieces and brought the pieces to the Wolie, who then tied the pieces together in pairs which he hung on the upper row of poles in the smoke tent. When the meat hung securely in the upper part of the tent, he lit the fire under it. He came out, closed the flap and tied it down, leaving an opening, about one hand in width at the bottom to allow air for the fire. Having finished his work, he turned to us with a big satisfied grin on his face. “Food for Mountain ready tomorrow!” With that he disappeared in to the undergrowth. He didn't return all day, and when he finally came into camp around dusk carrying another bundle of fresh branches and some drier branches for the smoke fire he said nothing, just fed the fire, placed the branches and curled up by his back-basket and went to sleep. Valdemar and I soon followed his example. The Wolie woke me up just before dawn the next morning asked me to help him disassemble the smoke tent and pack the now ready and for travel prepared meat in three bundles adjusted for our sizes. He packed up the smoke tent, poles and all and very carefully stowed it up in a tree close by. The Bear woke shortly after dawn and as we ate the last pieces of roasted zubr for breakfast, he explained to us where we were going and how. “We need to get to the other side of these mountains”. He pointed behind him. “The fastest and safest way to get there is by the mines that riddle them. It's not without dangers, but it is safer than going over the Mountains. If we travel at our current pace, we should be on the other side in four days. We need to travel as light as possible, so any bits and pieces that we do not need inside the mountain will to stay here.” He pointed to my bundle of tradables and the two smaller bundles of meat. “Stow that up in the tree with the tent!” The Wolie rose and went to do just that. As we broke camp and made ready for the hike into the mountain I had a peculiar feeling that we were being watched, but every time I turned to see, whatever it was evaded detection. About two hours after dawn we had cleared camp and were on our way inside the Mountains, the Bear leading the way, the Wolie picking up the tail end of our single file march.  |
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Re: For the Price of a BearTaikunping said Jun 1, 8:45 AM: |
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Cloudy Sun was turning out to be a good member of the team, and he did seem very useful, especially when it came to preparing food…maybe he could be trusted after all… |
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