driftfleet | Nightal 1 1369 dr- Feast of the Moon

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Nightal 1 1369 dr- Feast of the Moon

Who: Syeira and Open!!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: The Red Fish, if you want. Or she can go other places. I'm flexible.
When: From the night of 11/30 through all day 12/1.

[Syeira hasn't broadcast anything since her first day. That was a long time ago. She almost doesn't remember how, so it takes her a moment of fussing around with her device before realizes it's actually working. She's in the cargo area of the Red Fish, sitting on the floor against a wall. Her knees are pulled up, and the device is resting on them so she doesn't have to hold it. She's wearing her Nymph cloak, so she looks a little shinier, and seems a bit more compelling at the moment. She's not wearing it to command attention, just feels the need to be wrapped up in something familiar.]

So I realized tonight that I've been with the Fleet for exactly seven months. I'm still so unused to this thing...

[What an awkward way to start.

She sighs, leans her head back and just...talks.]

Today is a holy day in Faerun. The Feast of the Moon. It's the start of winter. On this day, people do a lot of things. One of them is recounting stories of heroic slayings.

[Yes, slayings. Not deeds. Slayings. Murders.

She fidgets with a strand of her hair.]

Since I've been here, I've hardly killed anything. It's surreal.

I hate this day. I don't want to hear stories of death and murders. Don't we all have enough of those? Does anyone have a nice story? I'd really like to hear them.

Please.

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[thankfully, her sounding completely unaffected by the things that are worrying him makes him feel much safer about the conversation. he can continue with some genuine calm:]

I suppose so. It'd have to be a very different world than mine, though.

Speaking of which, most of the stories I know by heart aren't exactly light and cheerful, but I could try think of one that at least ends on a happy note...

[If he'd expected her to be turned away by his Calibration, he's so very wrong. There's no getting rid of her friendship now, buddy.]

Different than mine too.

[She settles against the metal wall a little lower, snuggles into her cloak.]

I like your stories. I'll take any one you have.

[he chuckles through his teeth.] You're a good audience, as always. Let's see...

[she can hear the quiet sounds of him settling down somewhere, too. he knows a lot of stories, it's just a matter of picking one.]

Okay. This one is very old, but I think I can keep it sensible. It goes like this...

Back when the world was young and the Nine Kings still walked among mortal men, there lived a man who spent his days mining caverns deep in the mountains. He lived alone with his wife and daughter, and traveled into town once a month to sell them the iron he dug up.

One day, he walked into his mine the same as he always did, but was surprised to find that his old friend from the town was waiting for him with a cart full of pure iron and glittering gemstones. When he asked his friend where he'd gotten all of those beautiful stones, the friend replied, "Why, I've dug all of them up from this tunnel, friend. I know where to find many more, so I'd be happy to trade you this cart-full in exchange for what's behind your cottage."

The miner could only think of the old, gnarled-up apple tree behind his house, which he didn't particularly like anyway. He was so struck with his friend's kindness and his good fortune that he readily agreed, and brought the cart home to show his wife what luck had brought them.

But his wife was struck with a sudden horror when he told her the story. She told him, "That couldn't have possibly been your friend. I didn't want to tell you while you were in such good spirits, but a letter arrived just this morning with news of his death." Looking grave indeed, she said further, "I fear you've been visited by a ghost."

The man, realizing what had happened, asked her if there was anything of value behind their house that he didn't know about... and she told him that the only thing behind the house today had been their daughter, picking apples and tidying their yard. The color drained from the man's face when he realized just how sorely he had been tricked.

[Robin's stories are good. The kind you curl up in front of a warm hearth to listen to, on a cold night.]

Oh, never agree to vague deals. [Tsk.] Then what?

[he hums a note of agreement; you'd think the people in these stories would have learned, by now.]

Well, back in those days, ghosts were very rare... but also very dangerous. The man, fearing that his disobedience would bring a horrible curse upon the whole family, felt he had no choice but to surrender his daughter to the vengeful specter. It was not an easy task; his daughter was nothing but kind and loyal, and wanted only for her father to be happy.

The girl had no power of her own, but she had strong faith and a good spirit--so that night, she prayed at the family alter to all of the Nine Kings for protection. She prayed the most to Riem, the King of Suffering, that her family be spared from this ghost's misguided spite. She prayed to him that her father would find peace, and that her mother's heart would stay strong.

The next day, she was brought to the mine by her father, and the ghost appeared again. This time, it was easy for the man to see how pale and gaunt its skin was, and how his "old friend" had no remorse in its eyes. The daughter was brought forward, but when the ghost reached out for her... it was suddenly struck back, the tips of its fingers burning like hot embers.

The ghost hissed in frustration, "She is protected by a King, and I cannot touch her. Bring her again tomorrow, and before that, tie her up somewhere where she cannot pray."

The father, terrified, did exactly as he was told. He took her home again, tied her up, gagged her so she could not talk, and left her in a cold, dark room. The daughter was just as scared, but she was a kind and loyal girl, so she did not speak out even once. She had no alter to pray at, that night, but she clasped her hands together and prayed anyway, hoping that Riem might still hear her voice even when others had taken it from her. She dreamed that he could see her through her hands, even though she had no prayer-stone to kneel on.

The next day, she was brought to the mines once more. Once more, the ghost tried to reach out for her, but was struck back by a sudden light that charred its skin to the wrist. Furious that it had been bested twice, it snarled, "She is still protected. Take her home and cut of her hands, then return her to me. I will not be tricked a third time."

The father was horrified. When he brought his daughter home, he begged for forgiveness again and again... But he'd lost to the ghost a long time ago, and the daughter already knew that he would do exactly what it wanted. Though it hurt wickedly and broke her heart, she let her father take her into the yard. She stifled her screams as he chopped off her hands with their wood-cutting axe.

Sick with pain, she cried and cried until the sun rose above the hills. She cried so hard and for so long that her tears purified her wounds, and they no longer stung by the time her father came to bring her back to the ghost a final time. It was waiting for them as always, and it was sure it would get her this time...

[She is a very good audience, because she gets invested in well told stories. Her reaction to the very thought that the father would cut off his own child's hands, gets a visceral reaction from her. Her own hands go to her mouth, and then she has to steady her comm because it almost falls off her knees with the jostling motion.

(Though it's a little silly for her to still be so surprised, considering her own lineage, but she knows her own circumstances are generally unique).]

That poor girl. What a terrible father not to fight for her.

[Please continue!! She's very invested now. mO_Om]

[as if he'd want any other kind of reaction... weird as the situation is in his head, it's still nice to have someone hanging onto his every word.]

The ghost reached for the girl. She swore she could feel the cold of its corpse-fingers just as a sudden, crackling arc of lightning surged between them. It barely had the time to stumble back in agony, both of its hands burned away in an instant, before a horrible rumbling filled the tunnel. It sounded like a thunderstorm rolling through the very stones, an angry echoing that shook the ground under which they stood.

It was a warning. The King of Suffering had heard the girl's prayers, and he was furious.

The noise began to fade off into the darkness, but the message had been received. The ghost, now stuck in a form with no hands, had toyed with something much more powerful than itself--and it sank down in defeat. It released the father and daughter from their bargain, swearing bitterly that it would not bring further harm to the family for as long as they lived.

The father took the girl home. He wept with joy, relief, and the mother joined them. "I'm so sorry," he told his daughter, "But you've saved us all. I will give you the treasures that the ghost first gave me, and I will do everything I can to help you live comfortable and happy for the rest of my life."

His daughter was nothing but kind and loyal, and wanted only for her father to be happy... But her father had also failed her, and she knew that she could never be truly happy herself, living to soothe his guilt. And since she could not be happy, he would never be happy, and so the girl knew what it was she had to do.

"You have already given me all you can offer," she told her father, head bowed. Soon after, she took a few things from the cottage and walked into the woods, intending never to return again.

And though the woods were filled with dangerous monsters, not a single one was brave enough to come near her. It's said that wolves would walk beside her during the day, and that a bear would come to sleep next to her every night. She walked for so long that she eventually passed through villages and cities, where she became revered for her kindness and her patient counsel. By the end of her very long life she was a favorite of Riem himself, and they say that he personally walked her spirit to the Gods' Kingdom when her time in the mortal world was over.

[and that's the story. a horrible thing happened, but the girl got a happy ending, and the "god" in question wasn't a dick about it. no one died, no one was slain. that's why he picked this one, and not any of the hundred others he knows.]

[It's a good story. Visceral and engaging, and in the end it was a positive ending. Not perfect, but it hit the right note for her.

Though the last thoughts about the girl and her father sit heavily in her, somewhere around the chest area. She thinks of Gorion. She thinks of Bhaal. Where she from Earth, she'd think it was like the Father's Day from hell.

But his story, ultimately, helped. She doesn't seem any cheerier. But the outcome of the girl has a strengthening quality.]

How very brave she was. Thank you, Robin. You always have good stories.

[and that'll do. makes everyone feel a little bit better.]

You're welcome. Stories are best put to use anyway.

Well, if you're feeling generous, I'd take another.

[Said with a little playfulness, but she'd like to keep Robin on the line a while longer. Company is good. Company she relates to is better. Even if it is only his voice.]

Oh, is that so?

[he snickers, just a little. he hadn't planned on it, but... now that she's got him thinking...]

How about a silly one? It's short.

[Yay! Got him laughing!

Who is cheering who up again?]

I could really go for silly.

All right, one more story. This one is popular with the kids.

[which he clears his throat for, despite not needing to clear his throat at all--because he may as well be telling this to a kid anyway, and a little dramatic effect goes a long way.]

Once upon a time, there was a young boy named Ulrae. The boy's father had died, and his mother had become very sick. To try and help her, he found a job with a farmer who was willing to pay him for helping out in his fields.

His first day, Ulrae worked very hard and the farmer paid him for his work in coins. The road home was a long one, and along the way, Ulrae threw his money into a field to scare some birds. When he got home, his mother was very upset with him. Why would he throw his money away? She told him, "Next time, put it in your pocket so that you don't lose it."

The next day, Ulrae went to work and was determined to get it right. This time, the farmer paid him with a stick of butter. He put the butter in his pocket, like he'd been told to do, but as he walked back home in the hot afternoon sun, it melted through his clothes and down his leg into an awful mess. When he got home, his mother threw up her hands. She couldn't believe it. "Again?" She berated him, "Think about it next time, Ulrae! Be more careful!"

So the next day, Ulrae went back to work. He thought long and hard about how to be more careful... And when the farmer gave him a cut of steak to bring back to his mother, Ulrae tied a string around it and pulled it along behind him so that it wouldn't be too close to him, but he wouldn't lose it, either.

...But, as he was dragging it behind him, it was eaten up by a pack of dogs. By the time he got home, there was nothing left of the steak. His mother, exasperated at this point, could only hold her head in her hands over what a dumbass her kid was turning out to be.

[...so he broke character a little, whatever. it's so true.]

"Ulrae... This is the last straw. Carry whatever you get on your back next time, so that you can't lose it. Surely, you can do this right."

So the next day, when the farmer gave him a donkey as payment for his work, Ulrae sighed. But he always did as his mother asked, so instead of leading the beast around, he hoisted it up onto his shoulders and started on the long, somewhat-clumsy walk home.

Now, it just so happened that a very rich family lived in a house that Ulrae passed on the road. Their daughter had been terribly sick and could barely leave her room, but when she saw our young hero stumbling down the road carrying a donkey on his back, she started laughing so hard that she giggled herself right out of bed.

It was the first time she'd laughed in weeks, and the family rushed out to meet whoever had helped their daughter. They agreed to help him in return for a friendship with their daughter, who started getting better again very soon after having someone to talk to and laugh with. Eventually, the two were married, and both families lived happily ever after.

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Nightal 1 1369 dr- Feast of the Moon

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