Bedtime Stories (D3, LE)

[Togashi Saruko]

As most were gathering around the fires after a long day, it was the time for a storyteller to shine. To ease the hearts and souls of the brave ones who had volunteered for this mission.

"Come gather round, and make sure your cups are full," her voice easily carried as she stood and spoke, "and I will share with you the story of the White Bear King."

[Jiyo Sora]

Hope this is better than the one about the lovelorn Hikaru.

[Taochusu]

"White bears? I only ever saw one of those..." Taochusu says to nobody in particular as he finds a spot to sit on the ground.

[Togashi Saruko]

OOC: Feel free to say you were there all along for the story if posting after this point (since I know some of you are stuck in combat-limbo )
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The storyteller cleared her throat and stood tall. As she spoke, her hands and arms moved to gesture along with the story, which showed off the red lotus flower tattooed on her arm a few times.

Once upon a time, there was once, as well could be, a king. He had two daughters, who were mean and wicked, but the third was kind and gentle, and as fair as the bright day, and the king and all were fond of her. One night, the beloved princess dreamed about a golden wreath, which was so lovely that she could think of nothing else and felt a great need to possess it. But as she couldn’t get it, she began to pine and fell into a sorrowful silence. And when the king found out it was the wreath she was grieving for, he asked the most skilled artisans and craftsmen of his realm to make a wreath to match the one his daughter yearned for.

They worked both day and night, but some of the wreaths she threw away, and others she wouldn’t even look at. Then one day, when she was in the forest, she caught sight of a white bear, which had the wreath she had dreamed of between its paws and was playing with it. The princess said to the bear that she would pay all the silver she had for the wreath.

"No!" said the bear. It wasn’t to be had for money, but only in return for herself. "Well, life isn't worth living without it," she said; it didn’t matter where she went or who she got, if only she got the wreath. And so they agreed that he was to fetch her in three days’ time, and that would be the fourth day of the month.

When she came home with the wreath, everyone was glad because she was happy again, and the king felt sure that it would be a simple matter to keep a white bear at bay. On the third day, all the warriors he could muster was posted round their home, with the king himself leading them. But when the white bear came, there was no one who could stand against him, for no weapon could hurt him. He knocked them down right and left until they were lying in heaps. This, thought the king, was proving downright disastrous; so he sent out his eldest daughter and the white bear took her on his back and rushed off with her.

When they had traveled far, and farther than far, the white bear asked:

“Have you ever sat softer, have you ever seen clearer?”

“Yes, on my mother’s lap I sat softer, in my father’s court I saw clearer,” she said.

“Well, you’re not the right one then,” said the white bear, and chased her home again.

The next month, on the fourth day, he came again, and did just as he had done before. The warriors were out with orders to deal with the white bear. But neither spear nor arrow bit on him, so he mowed them down like grass until the king had to ask him to stop. And then he sent out his next eldest daughter, and the white bear took her up on his back and rushed off with her.

When they had traveled far, and farther than far, the white bear asked:

“Have you ever sat softer, have you ever seen clearer?”

“Yes, on my mother’s lap I sat softer, in my father’s court I saw clearer,” she said.

“Well, you’re not the right one then,” said the white bear, and chased her home again.

And then, the next month on the fourth day, he came again. This time he fought even harder than before, until the king thought he couldn’t let him knock down all his warriors, and so he gave him his third daughter. Then he took her on his back and traveled away, far, and farther than far, and when they had reached the forest, he asked her, as he had asked the others, if she had ever sat softer and seen clearer.

“No never,” she said.

“Well, you’re the right one,” he said. “From this day, I, Shiroi, will provide for you and protect you.”

So they came to a palace which was so fine that the great hall her father lived in was like the plainest hut in comparison. There she was to stay, and live well, and she was to have nothing else to do but see to it that the fire never went out. The bear was away during the day, but at night he was with her, and then he was a man. For three years all went as well as could be. But each year she had a child, which he took and rushed away with as soon as it had come into the world. So she became more and more downcast, and asked if she couldn’t be allowed to go home and see her parents. Yes, there was no objection to that; but first she must promise that she would listen to what her father said, but not to what her mother wanted her to do. So she went home, and when they were alone with her, and she had told them how she was getting on, her mother wanted to give her a candle to take with her so she could see what the bear was like when he turned into a man at night. But her father said no, she shouldn’t do that. “It will only do more harm than good”.

But no matter how it was or was not, she took the candle stub with her when she left. The first thing she did, when he had fallen asleep, was to light it and shine it on him. He was so handsome that she thought she could never gaze her fill at him, as she shone the light, a drop of hot tallow dripped onto his forehead, and so he awoke.

“What have you done? Now you have brought misfortune on us both. There was no more than a month left; if you had only held out I would have been freed, for a Troll-hag bewitched me, so that I’m a white bear during the day. But now it’s over with us. Now I have to go there and take her.”

She cried and pleaded on, but he had to go and go he would. So she asked if she could go with him. That was out of the question, he said, but when he rushed off in his bearskin, she seized hold of the fur all the same, flung herself up on his back and held of fast. Then they were off over mountain and hill, through groove and thicket, until her clothes were torn off, and she was so dead tired that she let go her hold, and knew no more. When she awoke, she was in a great forest, and so she set out on her way again, but she didn’t know where her path led. At last she came to a cottage where there were two womenfolk, an old crone and a pretty little girl.

The king’s daughter asked if they had seen anything of White-Bear-King Shiroi.

“Yes, he rushed by here early today, but he was going so fast that you won’t catch up with him again,” they said.

The little girl scampered about, and clipped and played with a pair of golden scissors, which were such that pieces of silk and strips of linen flew about her if she but clipped in the air. Wherever the scissors were, clothes were never lacking.

“But this poor woman, who has to journey so far and on such rough roads, she’ll have to toil hard,” said the little girl. “She has more need of these scissors than I; to cut clothes for herself,” she said, and then she asked the older ones if she could give the king's daughter the scissors. Yes that she could.

So the king’s daughter set off through the forest which seemed to never come to an end, all that day and night. And the next morning she came to another cottage. Here there were also two womenfolk, and old crone and a little girl.

“Good day,” said the king’s daughter.

“Have you seen anything of White-Bear-King Shiroi?” she asked.

“Were you to have had him, maybe?” said the old woman. That it was. «Why, yes, he rushed by here yesterday, but he went so fast that you won’t catch up with him,” she said.

The little girl was playing about on the floor with a flask, which was such that it poured out whatever they wanted, and wherever the flask was, drink was never lacking.

“But this poor woman, who has to journey so far and on such rough roads, she’ll be thirsty and suffer many other hardships,” said the little girl, and then she asked the older ones if she could give the king's daughter the flask. Why, yes that she could.

So the king’s daughter got the flask, said her thanks, and set out again, walking through the same forest, all that day and night.

On the third morning she came to a cottage, and there were an old woman and a little girl.

“Good day,” said the king’s daughter.

“Have you seen anything of White-Bear-King Shiroi?” she asked.

“Were you to have had him, maybe?” said the old woman. That it was. «Why, yes, he rushed by here yesterday, but he went so fast that you won’t catch up with him,” she said.

The little girl was playing on the floor with a cloth that was such that whenever they said to it, “Cloth, spread thyself, and deck thyself with every good dish!” it did so. And wherever the cloth was, good food was never lacking.

“But this poor woman, who had to journey so far and on such rough roads,” said the little girl, “she may well both starve and suffer many other hardships, so she’ll have more need of this cloth than I,” she said, and then she asked if she could give her the cloth. That she could.

So the king’s daughter took her cloth and said her thanks, and set off. Far, farther than far, through the forest all that day and night she went. In the morning she came to a mountain spur which was as steep as a wall, and so high and so wide that so end could she see. There was a cottage there too, and, when she came in, the first thing she said was:

“Good day, have you seen whether White-Bear-King Shiroi has traveled this way?”

“Were you to have had him, maybe?” said the old woman. That it was. “Yes, he rushed by here yesterday, but he went so fast that you won’t catch up with him,” she said.

The cottage was full of little children, and they all clung to their mother’s apron strings and cried for food. The old woman put a pot full of pebbles on the fire. The king’s daughter asked what was the good of that. They were so poor said the old woman that they could afford neither food nor clothes, and it was so hard to hear the children crying for a bit to eat. But when she put the pot on the fire, and said,” Now the apples will soon be done,” it seemed to deaden their hunger, and they were patient for a while. It wasn’t long before the king’s daughter got out the cloth and the flask, as you can imagine, and when the children were fed and happy, she clipped out clothing for them with the golden scissors.

“Well,” said the old woman of the house, “since you’ve been so heartily kind to me and my children, it would be a shame not to do what we can do to try to help you up the mountain. My husband is really a master smith. Now you just rest until he comes back, and I’ll get him to forge claws for your hands and feet, and then you can try to crawl up”.

When the smith came, he started on the claws right away, and the next morning they were ready. She had no time to wait, but said her thanks, fastened the claws on her hands and crept and crawled up the mountainside the whole day and night, and, just when she was so tired that she didn’t think she could lift her hand again, but felt she would sink to the ground, she got to the top. There was a plain, with fields and meadows so big and wide that she had never imagined anything so broad and so smooth, and close by there was a palace filled with workers of every kind who toiled like ants in an anthill.

“What is going on here?” asked the king’s daughter.

Well, this was where she lived, the Troll-hag, who had bewitched White-Bear-King Shiroi and in three days she was to wed him. The king’s daughter asked if she could talk with her. No, not likely! That was out-and-out impossible. So she sat down outside the window, and started clipping with the golden scissors, and linen and silken clothing flew about like a snowflurry. When the Troll-hag caught sight of that, she wanted to buy the scissors.

“For no matter how the tailors toil, it’s no use,” she said. “There are too many to be clothed.”

The scissors weren’t for sale, said the king’s daughter. But the Troll-hag could have them, if she would let her sleep with her sweetheart tonight. She could certainly do that, said the Troll-hag, but she would lull him to sleep herself, and wake him up herself. When he had gone to bed, she gave him a sleeping potion, so he was in no condition to wake up, for all the king’s daughter shouted and cried. It nearly broke her resolve, so gaze upon her beautiful love no longer trapped in the form of a white bear, but now trapped in some cruel sorcery instead.

The next day the king’s daughter went outside the windows again, sat down and started pouring from the flask; it flowed like a brook, both beer and wine, and it never ran dry. When the Troll-hag laid eyes on that, she wanted to buy it.

“For no matter how much they toil at the brewing and distilling, it’s no use. There are too many thirsty throats,” she said.

It wasn’t for sale for silver or gold, said the king’s daughter, but if she would let her sleep with her sweetheart tonight, she would give it to her. Yes, that she could certainly do, said the Troll-hag, but she would lull him to sleep herself, and wake him up herself. When he had gone to bed, she gave him a sleeping potion again, so the King’s daughter had no better luck that night either. He couldn’t be awakened, for all she cried and shouted. But that night one of the artisans was working in the room next door. He heard her cry in there, and he guessed what had really happened, and the next day he told Shiroi that she must have come, the king’s daughter who was to have freed him.

The next day was just like the others – with the cloth as with the scissors and the flask. When it was dinner time, the king’s daughter went outside the castle, pulled out the cloth, and said,” Cloth, spread thyself and deck thyself with every good dish!” Then there was enough food for a hundred men, but the king’s daughter sat down alone. When the Troll-hag caught sight of the cloth, she wanted to buy it.

“For no matter how much they cock and bake, it’s no use. There are too many mouths to feed,” she said.

It wasn’t for sale for any gems or coins, said the king’s daughter, but if she would let her sleep with her sweetheart tonight, she could have it. She could certainly do that, said the Troll-hag, but she would lull him to sleep herself, and wake him up herself. When he had gone to bed, she came with a sleeping potion, but this time he was on his guard, and fooled her. The Troll-hag however was sly and crafty, and distrustful too, for she took a needle and stuck it right into his arm, to see if he were sleeping soundly enough. But no matter how much it hurt, he didn’t move, and then the king’s daughter was allowed to come in to him.

Now this was all very well, but they must get rid of the Troll-hag before he would be free. So he got the carpenters to make a trap door on the bridge which the bridal procession was to cross, for it was the custom there that the bride should ride first in the procession. When the Troll-hag started across the bridge with all her Troll-hag bridesmaids, the planks under them dropped open and they fell through. Then King Shiroi and the princess and all the wedding guests rushed back to the castle, and took as much of the Troll-hag’s gold and gemstones as they could carry, and then rushed off to the true home of Shiroi where they could hold a proper wedding for the two lovers, and to finally leave behind their trapped lives in the Troll-hag's palace. But on the way, Shiroi stopped in and fetched the three little girls from the three cottages that the king's daughter had stopped at during her search for him, and he revealed to her that, even if it had hurt him terribly to deprive her of their beloved children, it had been so that they could help her find him and to keep them safe from the Troll-hag.

As they returned to his home triumphantly, with golds, gems, and other treasures, a great feast was thrown to welcome home the long lost Shiroi and his lovely bride. The wedding celebrations went on for several days, and they lived a long and happy life together.

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D3 LE Storytelling/Awareness. +1k0 Tattoo. +1k1 Voice. +1k1 Void. 3 raises called for the effect of entertaining. TN 35: 10d10o10k6 61

[Miyako]

Miyako found herself wandering from one fire to another, listening to the various stories being told, tips on stances and weapon use, and at least one semi-drunken argument over some game being played with carved animal bones tossed upon the ground that she did not understand (and which, she suspected, the drunkards likely had forgotten as well). She migrated as far away from that fire as she could get, coming upon another to settle down at when she heard a storyteller's call about the White Bear King. The young lady found a spot near the fire to settle at as the story starts; she pulled out a skin of berry-wine from her home in the Chinsei forests and filled her cup to partake of it; while the story is being told, she quietly offered a taste to anyone that wished for it, but otherwise she sat with rapt attention.

[Jiyo Ayumu]

At some point, Ayumu had slipped into that reunion of storytellers and dangerous looking men who are actually big softies.

He wasn't sure how the evening was supposed to go. Was there supposed to ask questions about the story, like children? Tell stories of their own? Simply enjoy the peace and quiet of the campfire under the stars?

[Jiyo Sora]

Pretty good.

Little long.

"It seems Togashi-sama hasn't lost her touch in the past five years."

[Ongaku no Ryoko]

Ryoko had snuck into the outskirts of the gathering.

The story was very well told, though a certain part of her didn't even pay that much mind...

Instead there was a strange glint in her eyes as she listened, as though some inner judgement was underway.

For the moment, she remained quiet, expressive pensive.

[Taochusu]

Taochusu clapped at the story, having apparently enjoyed it. "Good stuff."

He turns to Ryoko, who he had never met before, and says, "I liked when they dropped the hag off a bridge. What about you?"

[Togashi Saruko]

She took a bow in response to the audience reaction.

"Thank you, Sora. I'm happy to know you enjoyed it." Getting praise from Sora always seemed like a rare thing. Or maybe he had just mellowed out that much.

[Shinjo Miuna]

Aono and Miuna had wandered over as the story began, now that they were finished trying to teach some of the others. Aono translated as the story was being told, hands moving impossibly fast and Miuna eagerly drinking it in. Miuna enjoyed the tale, and appreciated that it had a happy ending. She didn't enjoy stories of love lost or cut short. They made her heart ache. She spotted Ryoko at the edge of the gathering, and came near, seeing Taochusu upon joining them. She bowed a hello to them both. She rose, smiling up at them. Aono, of course, was a short distance away in case she was needed.

[Togashi Nadare]

Stories. Stories held power. Often they contained Truths. Did telling them make them real?

Well, sometimes they were just stories. He watched the flames of the campfire flicker.

[Ongaku no Ryoko]

Taochusu clapped at the story, having apparently enjoyed it. "Good stuff."

He turns to Ryoko, who he had never met before, and says, "I liked when they dropped the hag off a bridge. What about you?"

"It seems a little unfair to the troll, but I suppose she did have it coming - after cursing the poor man. There was entirely too much deception for my taste - surely it would have been better to speak truly to one another? That way she might have known why she shouldn't light the candle..."

Ryoko seemed thoughtful, if a little displeased. "It always seems we say too little and it leads us into traps we ourselves lay..."

[Taochusu]

"I mean, nobody in the story was really a good person. They were all mostly jerks. I just thought that the trap was clever," he says. "Just a bunch of jerks doing mean things to each other. Nobody really deserved a happy ending. But, life can be like that too. Sometimes people get things they don't deserve."

He waved to the Shinjo.

[Ongaku no Ryoko]

"That's true, I guess."

She frowned faintly.

"I guess I just don't understand."

[Shinjo Miuna]

Aono patted Ryoko gently on the shoulder. "There are many things in life that are unfair. Fate cheats many. It seems that the message you got from this story is that one should always be open, honest and communicative. Which is a very good thing to take away from the tale. Sometimes we are our own hinderence. You're a bright young woman, Ryoko, and I don't forsee you falling into many traps any time soon." She hoped to reassure the brooding ogre, but feared she only gave her more to consider.

Miuna gave the young halfling a quick, but firm hug. She smelled of forest and a little of the campfire they stood near. She let go and signed while Aono translated, "You're smart Ryoko. If you'd been in the story, it would've been really short because you'd have known right away what to do!" She smiled up at her from beneath dark bangs.

[Ongaku no Ryoko]

That brought a little chuckle, and a smile.

"Well, my tribe don't like to talk... around things. We like to just say things as they are. It makes it easier to get along."

Mouth quirking into a wry grin, she added, "Perhaps we have been on our own too long and gotten naive?"

[Taochusu]

Taochusu shrugs. "I never worried too much about such things. If someone wants to talk they will, and if they don't you can't make them. And saying what you mean is always best for me. Don't really know any other way. But being on your own is okay too. Then the only person you can lie to is yourself, and you learn quick that doing that is bad for you."

[Jiyo Sora]

Just wait until they run into Doji's etiquette... Going to be rough going.

[Ongaku no Ryoko]

"Yet people lie to themselves all the time."

Ryoko sighed.

Part of an Ongaku's job was reminding people *not to do that*.