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Jolly Bedtime Stories with Siyah-Gosh

Started by Karak Stormsong, August 09, 2015, 04:50:01 PM

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Karak Stormsong

Every night Siyah'gosh approaches the fire and sits down, facing the setting sun. It does not matter if there are orcs present or not for every night he repeates the same ritual. He asks those gathered to sit (even when the fire is empty) and requests a story. Sometimes he merely sits in silence, listening to some unfathomable notion or creature perhaps just out of sight, occasionally commentating to whatever spirit or madness he hears in his head. More often than not, he gives a wide smile and in his soft whisper gives tells a story.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

How the Riddling Lynx got her name and her first skin

Once upon a time, a long time ago, a young lynx was walking along a forest path. It was the dead of winter and the snows were falling hard. Back then, the lynx had little fur and instead stalked the deserts and Barrens, but this one, in her wanderlust, had wandered too far north.

The cold winds bit at her skin and she knew she would not survive another night in the freezing climate. It was then she smelt fresh salmon being cooked upon a fire. Hungry and cold, she darted around a snow drift and found a great fat bear, cooking a basket of Salmon. The bear was larger than a house, thick fur and claws like swords. He prodded the fire a few times and then smelt the air.

“I smell a cat!” he roared, “Come out cat, you can't hide from my nose!”

The lynx stalked out of the undergrowth, cowed and afraid. “Please, bear, I am cold and hungry and I may not survive another night. May I sit next to your fire and have a fish?”

The bear snorted in disgust, “Why would I do such a thing? I shall eat all of this and then head back home to sleep away the winter.”

“But bear!” exclaimed the lynx, “I am so very cold and hungry!”

“I am the King of this forest, and all the birds and beasts know not to annoy me, cat, lest I crush their skulls between my paws! These fish are my tribute, and none but I will have them.” The bear then stamped out the fire and took the basket, heading off into the snow.

The lynx shivered and carried on to find shelter. Soon she was lost amidst the snow and dark trees. Now the lynx is a cunning tracker, so she soon enough she found a set of large tracks heading towards the mountains. She followed the tracks and came across the large bear again. He stomped through the icy woods, unbothered by the cold and wind, as his thick fur kept him warm.

She stalked up to the bear and said with a sad, desperate whisper, “Please, bear, I am so very cold, and your fur is so warm and thick. Might I sit on your back for just a short while, so that I may warm my paws?”

The bear snorted, “Why would I let you ride upon me? I am royalty, and as such only royalty may touch my fur, and a curse upon all others! I have warned you once, cat, now begone before your skull is crushed!”. He snapped at the cat, who ran in fright into a nearby bush.

The lynx waited for the bear to leave, watching the silently falling snow. It was then she looked up to see a flock of ravens, chattering amongst themselves and eyeing the cat warily.

“Well, well, well!” said one, a Mother-Raven. “You seem in awful need of help, don't you puss?”.  Her sons behind her all cackled and cawed.

“I know what you want, Ravens, you're a messenger-breed, like the vultures and swooping-birds back home. What do you wish to tell me?”

“Oh, nothing, really. I just want to talk...” said the mother-raven, tilting her head. It was then the lynx new she was doomed if she could not act soon, for it is said that ravens can only speak to the dead and dying, indeed this is why even today ravens are seen upon the gibbets and battlefields across Azeroth.

Overcome with fright, the lynx looked to hide, for the cat is a master of stealth.

“Wait a moment...” said the mother-raven, “Today my sons and I do not bring messages to Bwonsamedi or any the spirits of death; my husband, you see, was trapped by the bear. The Tyrant uses him to send messages across the forest! He wishes tribute of fish unless he kill us all, for truly, he is the strongest creature in this forest.”

“But a Raven can fly,” quizzed the lynx, “And you are such a cunning creature, how did your husband managed to be captured so?”

“Ah, you see, he was trapped by oath!” squawked the Raven-mother in distress, “The bear would grant us a morsel of food in this dire winter, and in return we would serve him. But now the Tyrant asks too much, he never shares his food, and he swore he would. He runs my poor husband ragged for nothing! The bear likes to bargain but he never follows through. My poor husband though, is too honourable to merely leave.”

But the lynx, hungry above all, stalked the bear's tracks and came across a large cave. Smelling the bear's scent in the darkness she called out.

“King Bear! King Bear! It is I, the lynx again, please â€" I am so cold and hungry.”

There was a rumbling from the cave, “The cat again? I offer you nothing!”

“But won't you share sacred hospitality with me? What if I can pay you? A bargain perhaps?”

At this the bear grunted with interest, “Very well cat, what do you offer?”

“A secret of cats. A service of mine, anything, O'please, I starve this night!”

“Very well, come on in... I grant you hospitality in the name of the great primal gods.”

The lynx walked into the dark cave and came across a Raven, locked in a cage and starving. The pitious creature glanced at the lynx and spoke in a hollow tone, “I hope you know what you are doing...”

“Fear not, Raven,” said the lynx with a wink, “I have a plan.”

The lynx trotted into the darkness and came across a great throne of bones; she saw the skulls of stags, and panthers, and hippogriffs. Truly the bear was strong if he could slay such wise, swift and powerful creatures.

“Well then, cat...” said the bear with a wicked grin, “You offered your secrets, first.”

With that the lynx took a slate from the ground and inscribed in runes the secrets of the cat. “With this, great bear, you shall be as mysterious and silent as a cat stalking her prey.”

The bear grinned and accepted the offering. “Very well, little cat, I shall accept this gift. And now your service is required. My coat of fur is heavy and hot, and it makes my sore.”. He shrugged off his great coat of fur and placed it in a neat pile. While unguarded, it never had to be for only royalty could touch the fur, as the bear had described earlier. “Knead my back with your soft-cat paws and make me feel better.”

The lynx, grunting in indignation climbed upon the bear's back and purred into his ear, softly padding at his skin. After the while, the bear was satisfied and commanded the lynx to be off. Yet as she did so she was swiped up and hurled into the back of the cave, unable to escape.

“Foolish cat! Why did you think I was being truthful? You shall have no food and instead serve me forever!”

The lynx, expecting this, was not afraid and instead gave a slight wry smile. “Dear King” she said softly, “you must truly be wise and cunning to have trapped me so. Would you not let me bargain further? Perhaps a contest of wits? A riddle or two? Truly, one as wise and powerful would have no trouble. What say... a riddle for a fish?”

The bear was rightly amused and laughed out loud. “Very well, cat. Go ahead.”

“Four hang, four sprang, two point the way, two to ward off dogs, one dangles after, always rather dirty. What am I?” purred the lynx.

The bear was stumped and could not answer. He lay back on his bed of bones and though. As he did so, the Lynx moved towards his discarded coat of fur and picked it up. She could feel the magic of royalty between her claws and truly, only royalty could touch the thing.

“I cannot answer this riddle.” exclaimed the bear. “But it matters not, for you will have no fishes of mine!”

“Alas!” said the lynx, now hiding in the darkness with the coat by her side. “Truly you are powerful, and you have me at your mercy. Please â€" would you not consider giving me something warm instead? Again, for a riddle?”

“Very well, you amuse me, cat. Ask again.”

“There is a house. One enters it blind and comes out seeing. What is it?”

Again, the bear was stumped and lay back on hs bed to think. At this the lynx, picked up the coat and stalked back towards the entrance of the den.

“It matters not if I can answer this, for you shall have nothing to warm you! I am the King of this forest, and what I say shall go!”

The lynx passed the raven's cage and winked, as he had been listening to the conversation. She projected her voice to the back of the cave again and said in a wry purr, “Then what of my freedom? Will you give me my freedom for the service I gave? Or perhaps another riddle?”

“Another riddle will do. You enjoy these do you not? You are quite the Riddling Lynx.”

“Yes, I suppose I am.” sniffed the lynx, enjoying the title. “Yet here is one you may not have heard. You are in a dread domain, of which there are but two ways out. Yet one exit leads to death. By these doors there are two guardians, yet one always lies while the other can only speak the truth. What one question can you ask a guardian to find out which door leads to safety?”

The bear snorted I disgust and got up from his bed, peering into the darkness. At this the Lynx donned the bear's coat, so that she was warm and smelled of him. “What riddle is this?” roared the bear, “Why, I would force both guardians to walk through the doors and see which one died!”

“Wrong answer I am afraid” purred the lynx.

“Enough!” yelled the bear, “It matters not. You will get no freedom and serve me forever!” He glared to where he threw the lynx, but found nothing there.

“Oh, what a shame! Truly you must be wise and powerful, if you can breach your promises, both sacred and mundane without a curse from the primal gods! But I think, I have another riddle for you, if you are so wise.” She paused for the moment and watched the bear try and sniff her out, yet all he could smell was his scent. “Dear bear, riddle me this. Where am I?”

The bear raged for a moment, throwing his trophy-bones across his den in anger. “Foolish cat! Did you not remember? You gave me the secret of the cat, and now I know all your tricks! I merely have to read what is written and then I shall know how to find you!”. He glanced down at the slate and upon the magical runes the lynx had written, but instead found only nothing.

“And another riddle, my dearest king; When is a secret not a secret?”

The bear continued to rage, “Liar! Trickster! Riddling Lynx, you give me nothing! Why do you riddle so, when you are so close to death! I shall find you and crush your skull! Then we shall see if your fancy prose avails you anything!”

“A riddle is a lesson, bear, one you could stand to learn.”

“Nonsense!” screamed the bear, anger boiling off him. “Riddles are nonsense! Speaking in metaphor and acting superior when you are misunderstood teaches no one anything. You are nothing but words! Riddles are a false wisdom, an idle game! It is all memory and falsehoods, double meanings and logic even great Mu'sha could not stand! Speak properly you conniving fiend, lest I take your tongue from you.”

“Oh, dear king! Did you not know, that riddles, once solved speak much of both the asker and the answerer? But... is true many riddles require a context, so perhaps I shall answer a simpler one instead. Where, my dear, sweet king, is your coat?”

The bear looked upon he corner of his den and where his once warm and grand coat sat, was but empty air.

“Impossible!” screamed the bear, “my coat was sacred and pure, and only royalty could handle it.”

“Another riddle then for you my bear!” Laughed the lynx, “What does every cat consider herself to be?”

“Enough of your riddles!” said the bear, drawing himself to full height and power. “Thief! Trickster! The forest shall learn of your trickery! Every beast and bird within these woods will be after your head!” With that, he turned to the cage with which the raven was trapped and found it empty. The raven perched atop it instead, glaring at him.

“You shall do no such thing, bear.” said the raven, calmly. “The lynx is gone and you will not find her, for you shall be smelling only yourself, thus your nose will grant you no advantage. Know instead I told the forest of your treachery instead. I am an honourable bird, and have upheld my part of our oath. I conjured this cage with the sacred words I promised to you, so that I may be in your service as you gifted my flock with food and shelter.” He shifted his weight. “Yet you have not done this. I was waiting patiently, and believed my flock to be cared for. I heard nothing form them, yet still I waited in my cage for you, for I so solemnly swore it. Yet today you have showed me you are without honour. Every promise you have made to this Lynx you broke. You did not grant her requests even when you said you would. Did you not know, bear, an oath, a promise, a vow, a bargain, is sacred? Thus my oath to you is broken, and I am no longer caged to your service because you failed to uphold your end of our bargain!”

And with that the raven flew away, out of reach of the raging bear, and told the forests' creatures of the bear's honour-less ways. The bear gave chase, visiting the wolf-packs, the panther-dens, the Owl-nests and Deer-glades of the forest, yet upon seeing the bear, naked and gangly, they merely laughed. “What is a king without a coat?” sang the creatures, in unison.

“Fools! I still have my claws and strength, and I shall crush your skulls!”. Yet without his fur to guard him, the Father-wolf and Matriarch panther of the forest pounced atop him and tore him to pieces for his transgressions.

It was a little while later that the lynx, now wearing the skin of the bear to keep warm, came across a wading bird in a river stream. But by now she was starving and weak with hunger, and could not hunt the creature. The bird instead looked up from it's fishing and saw the bear's coat.

“Oh my!” It cawed, “the bear-king!” and then, for he did not hear the raven's messages, presented the lynx with his finest catch. “Tribute to the bear-king” he said with a bow.

The lynx blinked in confusion and looked at the bird.

The bird, sensing the hesitancy explained, “You are not the King? But you have his coat and smell of his scent. This means you have his strength also, does it not?”

The lynx pondered and did indeed wonder why she had lasted so long without food, and looked upon the bear's coat. She smiled, stood on her hind legs to make herself taller and wrapped the coat closer around herself.

“Yes.” She said. “I suppose it does.”
Old uncle Nazgrel;felling trees,
Cut his legs off at the knees.
"I'll sew them back on!" cried his daughter,
"No!" he said, "I like them shorter"
-By Karak, shortly before being throttled by Claws

Claws

#1
Love your writing karak.
Number one in my book you should take it up professionally
.
:-*


Love it just noticed your sig as well.

Old uncle Nazgrel;felling trees,
Cut his legs off at the knees.
"I'll sew them back on!" cried his daughter,
"No!" he said, "I like them shorter"
-By Karak, shortly before being throttled by Claws
True Blood
Once a Blade Always a Blade.

Retired Right hand of the Blades.
Lived enough to be older and wiser then many pup's

Remember a journey is not a final destination.

Karak Stormsong

And So She Did

Once upon a time a mother-coyote was was walking along a lakeside, carrying a kill.

“I can't be bothered dragging all this back.” she said, dropping the carcass at the foot of a tree, and gulping down a full flaskful of firewater. “I'll stick this here so I know where to find it and bring my cub to this spot instead!”.

And so she did.

This, as it turned out, was a fairly unwise decision, for in the tree watching the scene was a mother-cat and her kitten. Looking for an easy meal, she crept up upon the carcass, and seeing it was fresh, carried it up to the tree.

A little while later, the coyote returned with her cub in tow. Looking around, she was dismayed to find her kill no where to be seen. At this her cub began to cry. “Mother!” he wept, “I'm hungry! Why did you bring me all the way out here.”

“Shut up.” said the Mother-coyote, swigging from her flask of Firewater. “Mother's thinking.”

“There's nothing here.” came the response, meekly.

“I said Shaddup!” snapped the mother, “If I wanted your opinion I'd give it to you.”. At this she threw the empty bottle, it bouncing off the cub's head with a dull 'thump'.

She staggered over to the lake. “Mebbe it fell in?”. She peered over into the sparkling blew waters of the lake and sure enough, saw the meat in the water. Wobbling, she put her paw into the water, so that she may collect her food. Yet, when she put it in she returned with nothing.

“But mother...” said her son, meekly, instead seeing the food hanging on the tree.

“Look if I have to hear from you again, I'll sell your pelt to the local hunters like I did your brothers!”

With this, the pup cowered in the grass and fell silent. His mother, not seeing that her 'food' was a mere reflection, reached again into the water to collect it. Again, she came up with nothing. “Must be deeper than I thought.” she said. “I'll jump in and swim down to get it.”.

And so she did.

Time passed.

Ten minutes later, the cub deared to look up again. Not seeing his mother anywhere, he began to cry. “Mother! Where did you go?”. He looked upon the oncoming twilight of the horizon and felt a shiver down his spine, his fur standing on end. “It'll be dark soon, and the hunters will be out! Where are you?”.

There was no answer again and the lakeside was silent save for the pup's lonesome howling. A moment later, there was a snap of a twig above him. The cub jumped, hair bristling and looked up at  the tree and beheld to bright eyes staring down at him. The pup was terrified, and cowered in the grass.

“Don't worry, little pup.” said eye's owners. “I won't hurt you.”

“Have you seen my mother?” he replied with a whimper.

There was a long, heavy silence, followed by an awkward cough. “Yes...” said the voice. The eyes flickered to the lake and back to the cub. “Er... she's... gone to meet someone.”

“Wh-who?” wimpered the pup.

The eyes thought for a moment.  “Some try to hide, some try to cheat, but time will show, you'll always will meet. Try as you might, to guess his name, I promise you’ll know, when you he'll claim”

The pup gave a blank look. That wasn't really an answer. He blinked for a moment and instead asked in befuddlement, “W-when will she be back?” he cried.

There was another awkward silence. “Listen, let's not think about her right now.”. The voice smiled, and in the dark of the tree the cub saw a row of shining teeth.

“Please don't eat me!” cried the pup.

“Dear pup, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you!”. The creature leant forward and revealed herself as a great lynx, wearing the skin of a bear, the feathers of an eagle and amulets of gazelle bone. “You poor thing. You are all alone.” With a flick of one feather, she became a great eagle and swooped down, sitting herself next to the cub, before shifting back and peering at him with her bright yellow eyes.

The pup was understandably terrified at such profane use of magic and stood stock still, look of utmost terror plastered on his face. The cat placed a paw on his shoulder, giving another look at the lake. “Er... I think, my sweet dear cub, your mother might be... busy for the next... few...er... forevers.” she said, trailing off with another awkward grunt. “But don't worry! I have a nice juicy meal for you in this tree.”. She pointed a claw at the branches where the kill was, with more than an air of guilt.

“But... why would you help me!” he whimpered.

“Because... why, you're so young and innocent! I have a kitten just about your age,  and you're all alone!”. At this, the cub noticed a smaller cat clinging ontop the bearskin, black-furred and manic-eyed (as kittens are) and inheriting his mother's distinctive ear-tuffs. It gave a spaced out look at the coyote before losing interest and swatting at a passing fly. “How could I ever let a young thing like you stay all alone, when the night in oncoming and you look so hungry and small.” She patted the cub on the head and brought him close, “Don't worry, little cub, I'll take you in, and a far better mother I'll be than any before. I'll sing to you at night and teach you my craft, to trick another with guile and cleverness, and to steal away the power of the those to which it should not belong. I'll feed you at night and keep you warm, for this is a mother's promise”

And so she did.
Old uncle Nazgrel;felling trees,
Cut his legs off at the knees.
"I'll sew them back on!" cried his daughter,
"No!" he said, "I like them shorter"
-By Karak, shortly before being throttled by Claws