Storyteller Anon Pt.1

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Summary: Anon had adventured across this new world for years, and has reached old age. Still wanting to travel the world but having no money to do so Anon tells stories to get food at each stop.

Posted in Thread: 843
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>Countless years have passed since you first arrived.
>Your body has long turned old and gray, and all it has left is the energy to move.
>It had been tested and bruised many times over since then.
>A new land you sought to explore filled with excitement and danger.
>You’ve escaped beasts and traps; bested gods and kings.
>Through strength, wits, and a lot of luck you survived to this day.
>Although those times are long since gone the love of travel has never left.
>And so your journey continues.

>Your aged body wasn’t good for much.
>No services to perform for your daily bread.
>There was little left to who you once were, but your voice stayed strong.
>And so you wandered the lands on words and stories.
>Not of yourself or your deeds in this familiar realm, but of those greats from home.

>The minuotaur kingdom was filled with the regular homes and huts, but the center was always the tavern.
>It’s light embered glow signaling out to the night, a beacon of the towns delight.
>Your withered form made its way down the dirt path, the cheers and jeers inside ringing out.
>With a shove of the wooden door you made your way in, presenting yourself and your unkempt attire
>Little paid notice to your entrance as the minotaurs are a rowdy sort.
>They prize strength and individuality and fill the night with boasts and claims.
>But a few do take notice, and the dominos begin to tumble.

>Hushed tones and whispers carry on till silence as they watch you shuffle to your place.
>Some minotaurs made way, some moved from their seats.
>One offered a helping hand which you wordlessly took, and sat you down by the fire.

>As one of a kind every being had heard at least rumors of your name.
>The adventures of the past helped fuel its flight, and it soon touched each domain.
>But when it comes to reverence your deeds are none too great.
>For they have heard the tale of your words, and that is why they wait.


“A drink please.”
>A soft and humble request, which is silently acted upon and soon you are ready to begin.
>You take in your audience as each story must be chosen and changed on a whim.
>What type of story for these minotaurs?

“I tell a tale of love and pride, of beauty and anger, and how it can bring the downfall of entire nations.”
>It almost seems unfair to stand on the shoulders of such giants, but sharing their works is the highest respect.
“A great war had ended, the foe beaten by a great alliance of strong and noble houses. A celebration followed a feast of food and drink. There the youngest son of one of the houses caught a glimpse of the most striking of women. He knew he must have her, and so wooed her through the night. She spoke of returning his affection, but she was already married to one of the kings. Undeterred he devised a scheme that night…”

>It was not the original beginning to the story, but it had to be appropriate for them.
>Gods and goddesses were not seen as vain and petty, and so your audience had to be connected with another way.

“The eldest son of the same house was a strong and renowned warrior. His prowess was so great that rumors spread he was actually a son of the gods. He had been tested in battle much before, and after learning what his brother had done knew he would soon be tested again.”

>Your minotaur audience was already picking sides, not of war parties but of characters.
>As you watched their expressions you could find subtle changes as the story went on.

“The young Paris stood atop the great walls of Troy staring out at the great host besieging the city.
‘What will we do brother, they have many allies against us and the heroes Achilles and Odysseus.’
‘Let them crash against our walls like waves. It will do them nothing for we have the blessings of the Lord of the Sea.’
And it was true; the Greeks bled themselves dry trying to breach the walls.”


>Your listener’s eyes narrowed slightly when Paris came up and their ears leaned in a little closer when Hector was addressed.
>The same happened with Agamemnon and Achilles, their love for the warrior and hate for the fool.

“As Hector left the safety of the walls to face Achilles he was uncertain of his fate. They were a pair of great warriors, but one was spurred by grief and vengeance while he sought only to protect his home. Battle erupted as Achilles and his Myrmidons charged into Hector and the troops of Troy. They had sought each other out as the men clashed around them, the clangs of bronze ringing in the air. Their shields each bore great marks, symbols of their house, and the signs of strained battle. Both the Greeks and Trojans watched the two groups clash unable to look away from the spectacle. Then all fell silent as Achilles’ spear pierced Hector clean through.”

>You had hit the big climax, but the story was far from over.
>Still you took the time to revel in the looks of the crowd.
>They were torn between pride and grief, their hearts clearly had sunk.
>Although both were great warriors only one could stand in the end.
>While the minotaurs respected that they were still saddened to see him go.

“Achilles claimed his enemy’s body for his own as the Trojans fled the field. His rage far from sated he abused the corpse and defaced the body. He dragged it along the ground at great speeds for days as he rode out his anger. Still it was never enough as his close friend was forever gone. As the loss of his friend pained Achilles, so did the display of their fallen hero pain the Trojans.”

>To present Achilles as a hero and a villain, that is the challenge.
>He acts on emotion and ends up doing unsightly things, but that is a part we all connect with.
>And as the plight of the city is displayed, it serves a reminder to the audience that Achilles’ actions are distasteful no matter the situation.


“In the dead of night Hector’s father, the very king of Troy, leaves the city and approaches Achilles in the Greek camp. He honors Achilles despite the pain of his loss, and at the same time weeps for his fallen son. Achilles’ rage finally settles as the two share the pains of this war. Hector’s body is returned to his father, and the King of Troy returns with it to the city. Both the Greeks and the Trojans recognize a day of mourning for their dead.”

>Hours have passed since you began, and you had enjoyed their hospitality.
>While you sat silently by the fire, warm and with a full belly, the whispers slowly began to rise once more.
>”What happened next?”
>Rising to your feet you look on to the crowd.
>Their expecting faces are met with the cracking of your tired bones as you prepare yourself to leave.
“That my friends, is a tale for another time.”

Source: The Iliad
http://classics.mit.edu/Homer/iliad.html
Origin: Greek