TotR:Bool the Bard pt3 final by vp21ct, literature
Literature
TotR:Bool the Bard pt3 final
The Storyteller sympathized with the relief on the children's faces. It was the same relief he had felt when he had first experienced this tale.
"And so the years passed, and the days wore on, until that other life seemed like nothing more than a terrible dream."
*******
Tobias stood at the bar drying off the last glass from the day. Bool walked down the flight of stairs after changing into his playing clothes, thoroughly exhausted and sore. The young Ratman walked right up to the bar and did his best not to collapse into the stool when he sat down.
Tobias gave him an unreadable stare, then said evenly "You and that girl brought in a good
The story teller felt pain wash through his audience, and he sympathized with him, that part had gotten to him ever since....
"But, that would not be the end of Bool the Bard, oh no..... Weather by destiny's design, or by mere chance, greater things were in store for that young Ratkin.
*******
Bool awoke two days later and found himself laying in bed in a dark room. He sat up and looked around. Above he could hear hushed voices and softened footsteps. He worked his way off the bed and stood in the room.
It was a basement of some kind, that much was obvious by the look of the place, and by the pungent smell of fermentation he was in somepl
The Children had run up to the caravan the moment they had gotten up that morning. There were new faces and old ones, and some were missing. But all were eager.
The door opened and a beautiful blue fox leaped into the air and danced around the children excitedly, prancing this way and that with glee and joy. The children petted and patted the strange and wonderful creature and smiled at it.
"Koshii, Koshii, leave the poor children be and let me have some attention!" cried the Story teller, and he was quickly bombarded by a wave of children rushing forward to hug him.
"oh, ho ho ho ho. Give an old man a break, you'll knock me down if you ke
The Story teller had his audience locked into his voice, his movements. They knew only the world he wove with his words. Some of the younger children looked at him with sadness, for they saw only the dying ratman. The older ones looked at him with a sense of admiration in the actions of the fallen father.
All looked on him with an expression of such suspence as that the moment felt untouchable by time. His audience didn't even breath.
"Well, it seems I have been talking for some time. Would one of you be kind enough to get me a drink?" he asked them.
Without hardly thinking, one of the children got up and ran to the well. Some adults looke
The children looked at the story teller with wide, frightful eyes. He could feel the intensity of his crowd, and decided that he would take a pause for effect. "You children seam scared, is this story too frightening for you. Perhaps I should tell a different one."
All of the children screamed in unison for him to continue, and he merely chuckled. He had truly enthralled them in the story, and they would not let him go until he had finished it.
He looked about them, the shadows had begun to grow long and the light was turning red as the sun began to sink down past the horizon. "It is getting late. Before long it will be dark." He glanced at
The Gypsy story teller exited his caravan and was met with a rushing tumble of children, the very same ones he had told tales two long years ago. They were older now, and many of them showed it in a sizable addition of height. The oldest of them were even beginning to take on the marks of manhood and womanhood.
"Children, children. It fills me with joy to see you all again. I am truly grateful for your enthusiasm, but surely you have heard better stories than mine whilst I have been away."
The children gave an emphatic no and settled down into the very spots that they had sat in two years prior, though some had to scootch over a bit or draw
Tales of the Ratkin: Creation by vp21ct, literature
Literature
Tales of the Ratkin: Creation
"Gather round children," Said the gypsy story teller. "Gather and hear a tale of caution and warning, but one of hope and enlightenment aswell."
The children all gathered close to the dark skinned man, eager to hear a new tale. The looked at him with wide eyes and mouths agape.
"I will tell you the tale, the tale of the Ratkin. How they came to be, and their god Hoomeel.
"The ratkin are not a vile race, as some would believe. Revolting yes, disgusting surely. But they are no more or less capable of good or evil as you or me. For you see, there were once just as human as you and me, thought they were more like you." He pointed at them all.