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#Post#: 495--------------------------------------------------
Watching a Storyteller at the Fair
By: Nyah691 Date: February 1, 2020, 9:48 am
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3.26.2019
dagger [Nyah’s]
Restricted
Dagger's Rules
Hulneth, PoD
(10:10:20 )
[ The Sardar Fair . Side Street ]
-Wandering along a street of hard packed earth. Each is named
for the castes which occupy these streets. For instance the
Street of Coins, Street of Pottery and so on...-
says to ALL: The order placed with Grainne, including picking
out the varied fabrics and her word that it would be ready
before the end of the Fair, I was left with time for other
things. My Mistress was quite benevolent during the Fair,
allowing us to enjoy the spectacle it always was as long as any
chores she’d delegated earlier were finished first. That was
easily enough done and the remainder of the time was devoted to
enjoying the delights the Fair had to offer.
I always enjoyed the juggling troupe and the gifted
story-tellers. Their tales were colourful and exciting. When I
was still new to my slavery, I imagined I could have a life like
that of the richly, painted characters in the stories. I was
very young, and it was an absurd notion, but I still delighted
in it and the Slaver, Athir, didn’t even mind my listening or
imagining. He believed that a vibrant imagination was a vital
necessity to the specifics of my slavery and I can’t disagree
that it was, having found that it lent to a creativity that I
ought not would have.
(10:15:04 )
dagger [Nyah’s]
Restricted
Dagger's Rules
Hulneth, PoD
[ Outer Precinct . Amphitheater ]
-At the Amphitheater along the edges of the Fair precinct, a
large sloping semicircular complex where in paying spectators
can observe kaissa matches, poet readings, pageants, song dramas
and other performances...-
says to ALL: The streets were mine, in a metaphorical sense, of
course and I weaved through the main streets and the alley ways,
a lightness of foot that had been ingrained in me over the
course of a thousand ahns of training. There was little that I
could not traverse in near-silence, though someone with keen
hearing could always trump my stealth and possibly notice me.
I’d been caught more than once, and it always seemed to me it
was those you’d never expect. I could only assume that it was a
failure on my part, neglecting to take care over some creaky,
wooden planking. Too, there were those among us who might not
appear as they truly are, and taking for granted that a merchant
is only a merchant, can lead to downfall as well. Today, I was
as agile, light and quiet as ever even with the kirtle, which is
not something I ever wore even when I served North. The majority
of my owners preferred leather and sheer silks and my tabuk
boots which were supple enough to allow for running and quiet
enough so I could run across the roof-tops and not be heard. But
there was no roof-top-running tonight, only a game of shadow
dancing as I prowled through the Fair.
Beneath the brightness of Tor-tu-Gor, a woman stood within the
embrace of the Amphitheatre. There were many sitting in the
stands, watching and listening as she weaved her tale for the
crowd. Slaves who could not gain entrance without the escort of
a Master or Mistress, stood towards the back, but were as
riveted on the woman as the crowd. She was tall, lithe and
garbed in flowing robes as she sat on a high stool. Glittering
strands of her bejeweled hair was hidden from the prying eyes of
the audience, beneath a swath of silk that also covered her face
below the eyes and was caught in a sparkling, purple gem just at
her cheekbone. Her voice was mellifluous with an unmistakable
accent of the desert and she seemed to have the audience
bewitched at the first syllable.
(10:22:30 )
dagger [Nyah’s]
Restricted
Dagger's Rules
Hulneth, PoD
[ Outer Precinct . Amphitheater ]
-At the Amphitheater along the edges of the Fair precinct, a
large sloping semicircular complex where in paying spectators
can observe kaissa matches, poet readings, pageants, song dramas
and other performances...-
says to ALL: She began:
“There once was a storyteller who hailed from Argentum. She was
of simple stock; her mother and father owning a bakery in the
city and it was fully expected that she would follow the family
business. But she wanted more, and when she came of age, she
left to pursue a dream which her family felt would leave her
destitute.” The storyteller paused to allow her bewitching gaze
to fall on the audience and continued.
“As it happens, the storyteller’s dreams did come true and far
and wide, people knew her name. Agrafina. It was not her birth
name, but her birth name was just not grande enough for the
stories she told. Along with her notoriety, came wealth. She had
riches her family never, ever dreamed of and she purchased a new
baker shop for her parents along with a new home in the city,
taking care of them. But as stories go, the heroine character
must overcome some struggle and out-smart a villain.” Another
pause as the audience look on, captivated.
“On her way to the great, city of Ar, Agrafina’s caravan was
set upon by Mercenaries. They killed her would-be protectors and
captured the Lady, not knowing initially, who she was. She was
brought to the leader of this Mercenary, a man named Dak’ven,
immediately knew who she was and laughed.” Her voice dropped as
she took on this new role.
“The infamous storyteller of Argentum. This is a fortuitous day.
How much do you think I can get in ransom for such a pretty
flower?” Agrafina knew better than to say anything just yet.
Instead, studying the man before her and gauging her options. To
her horror, she found the man striking, strong and handsome and
felt the flutter of desire deep in her belly that she was quick
to squash. Or at least, she thought she did. When she was
permitted to speak, she offered this:
“Sir, you are right. You could collect quite the ransom for me
as I am beloved by the people. This is not vain, but simple
truth. I am the center of attraction at the Fairs and I am often
called upon to visit Magistrates and Ubars for festivals and
name-days. But, instead, I ask you to give me three hands. Three
hands where I will regale you with such stories that you will
understand why they love me and…you will, instead free me. And
I, will offer you an award for keeping me safe from the
cut-throats, who killed my men and nearly killed me.” Dak’ven
looked at her at then, looked at his men who were chuckling
amongst themselves.
“You think I will be so easily smitten with your stories, do
you? Alright, I agree to these terms. Your first story will
begin tonight and we shall see.”
(10:28:04 )
dagger [Nyah’s]
Restricted
Dagger's Rules
Hulneth, PoD
[ Outer Precinct . Amphitheater ]
-At the Amphitheater along the edges of the Fair precinct, a
large sloping semicircular complex where in paying spectators
can observe kaissa matches, poet readings, pageants, song dramas
and other performances...-
says to ALL: Agrafina was kept as a captive of honour in
Dak’ven’s tent and was afforded the comforts of such. He never
did anything untoward and every night listened to her stories
with rapt attention. However, after the first hand, Agrafina had
no idea how he felt. There was little in the way of expression
in his face and she worried, deep in the pit of her stomach.
The second hand she stepped up her game. Her stories of faraway
places and terribly smart, men who used both their cleverness,
treachery and magic to get what they wanted. There were sword
fights and wild escapes and slave girls who fell at the feet of
these strong men with utter devotion. This second hand she saw
something. A flicker in his eyes as he looked at her. It was a
look that made her catch her breath. A look that she never
received from a man and she was unsure if it was the stories or
herself.
Thus, began the third hand. Something shifting between them. Her
stories were no less as exciting, but this time, featured more
center-stage, was a love story between two, unlikely people. As
the end of the hand neared, the story became more intense and on
the last day she brought him the tea he favoured and made sure
he was comfortable. Her delicate hand grazing his just before
she stepped back and his darting upwards, watching her keenly.
“This story will be unlike anything you have heard these past
three weeks, Sir. It is a story of desire, deeper than the
deepest well and where the two main characters are
star-cross’d.” She shared the tale and watched as this strong
man caved. His eyes shining with un-shed tears. But before the
dance concluded, her main character danced beneath the moon for
a love she could never have and Agrafina danced for her captor.
The dance was not that of a slave, but a Free woman, however, it
was filled with all the emotion and love that as lave might show
her Master. At the end of her dance she knelt modestly before
him and felt as he placed his hand on her head.
(10:32:25 )
dagger [Nyah’s]
Restricted
Dagger's Rules
Hulneth, PoD
[ Outer Precinct . Amphitheater ]
-At the Amphitheater along the edges of the Fair precinct, a
large sloping semicircular complex where in paying spectators
can observe kaissa matches, poet readings, pageants, song dramas
and other performances...-
says to ALL:
“You have won your freedom, Agrafina. You have bewildered me
these last hands and I would never think myself so overcome with
emotion at a simple tale, but your stories are not simple, are
they?” He smiled, surprisingly kindly. “You will be granted safe
passage from my encampment. You will be returned with honour to
your homestone.” He would have said more but, Agrafina did not
allow him to finish. Instead, she lowered her head demurely, her
arms rising above her bowed head and crossing them at the wrist.
Dak’ven sat there unsure if this was part of her story, then
lifting her chin gently to see her blue eyes brimming with tears
and he smiled. Somehow, the unlikely two had discovered
something else. He caught her up in his arms, kissing her deeply
and proclaiming in a hushed voice against her lips. “Mine.”
And thus concluded the tale of the Storyteller, to a resounding
cheer from those listening with men pounding their closed fist
to their chest and slaves cheering. The Storyteller gracefully
making her way off the stage.
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