All Starts Bad. Ends Well?
A bearded old man hobbles towards the village of Hope with a big smile on his ancient face.
A child is heard to shout: "The story man is here! The Story man is here!" as a flock of little ones run towards him, some of them tripping over their own feet, so excited are they. The "Story Man" (real name Ian, but no one ever calls him that) is a popular visitor to Hope, earning money and food for his taller-than-tall tales of daring do's and daring don'ts. Of all the places the old tale-teller visits, Hope is the one he enjoys 'performing' at the most.
Hope, you see, is a small town full of thatched cottages, taverns and beards aplenty. There isn't much going on overall. It is a place far away from knights, dragons and distressed damsels.
Hope is a safe, but boring, place where people bake bread to break the tedium.
It has been said that in Hope, lethargy kills more villagers per year than wasps (Wasps being the closest things to dragons here) so a visit from Ian the Story Man, is a welcome escape from the day-to-day ho-bloody-hum of a Town Called Hope.
"Gather round" the Story Man says, half laughing, "I have a new tale to tell!"
The crowd soon amass; children, some men and some bored house wives take a seat, hoping to hear the old mans new material.
"We love you, Story Man!" one villager is heard to yell excitedly.
"It's good to be back in Hope", the gleeful old geezer smiles. "How are we doing on this day?"
Loud cheers from the growing audience. Ian raises a hand in the air, playing to them like a true showman.
"Who here..", he says, pausing for anticipation "liketh dragons?"
On cue, the crowd responds: "We liketh dragons!!"
Ever the star, he milks this crowd-cow a little more.
"Do you liketh dragons" he says "or do you loveth dragons?"
Now excited, the assembly shout in unison: "WE LOVETH DRAGONS!"
Ian raises both hands now and laughs.
"Well, I have a tale that has something even more fearsome than a dragon!" he boldly declares, hands still in the air.
"No fucking way!"
"'Tis true", Ian says, and takes a seat. A signature sign that the story is about to start.
As he clears his throat to begin, a silence falls on the village.
A child is heard to shout: "The story man is here! The Story man is here!" as a flock of little ones run towards him, some of them tripping over their own feet, so excited are they. The "Story Man" (real name Ian, but no one ever calls him that) is a popular visitor to Hope, earning money and food for his taller-than-tall tales of daring do's and daring don'ts. Of all the places the old tale-teller visits, Hope is the one he enjoys 'performing' at the most.
Hope, you see, is a small town full of thatched cottages, taverns and beards aplenty. There isn't much going on overall. It is a place far away from knights, dragons and distressed damsels.
Hope is a safe, but boring, place where people bake bread to break the tedium.
It has been said that in Hope, lethargy kills more villagers per year than wasps (Wasps being the closest things to dragons here) so a visit from Ian the Story Man, is a welcome escape from the day-to-day ho-bloody-hum of a Town Called Hope.
"Gather round" the Story Man says, half laughing, "I have a new tale to tell!"
The crowd soon amass; children, some men and some bored house wives take a seat, hoping to hear the old mans new material.
"We love you, Story Man!" one villager is heard to yell excitedly.
"It's good to be back in Hope", the gleeful old geezer smiles. "How are we doing on this day?"
Loud cheers from the growing audience. Ian raises a hand in the air, playing to them like a true showman.
"Who here..", he says, pausing for anticipation "liketh dragons?"
On cue, the crowd responds: "We liketh dragons!!"
Ever the star, he milks this crowd-cow a little more.
"Do you liketh dragons" he says "or do you loveth dragons?"
Now excited, the assembly shout in unison: "WE LOVETH DRAGONS!"
Ian raises both hands now and laughs.
"Well, I have a tale that has something even more fearsome than a dragon!" he boldly declares, hands still in the air.
"No fucking way!"
"'Tis true", Ian says, and takes a seat. A signature sign that the story is about to start.
As he clears his throat to begin, a silence falls on the village.