From: Steve Lieb (liebx004@maroon.tc.umn.edu)
Date: Sat 06 Apr 1996 - 08:52:33 EEST
> Don't judge a myth through a children's story. If
>anybody ever wrote a bedtime story set in Glorantha, I doubt we would
>recognize the gritty realm of myth we've been discussing here. (Anyone
>taking up the challenge? Might be a good way to prepare a new generation of
>Gloranthaphiles, too...)
This is one happy little trollkin are told late at night....
"Once upon a time, there were three broo - a rat broo, an ox broo, and a
normal broo* who lay resting unter a shady tree after a raucous morning with
some farm animals. These broo spied a caravan coming up the road on the
opposite side of the river. After some observation, the normal broo (who
was by far the smartest) cast Farsee and realized that this was the famous
Virgin Caravan of Aerana. Now this interested these three broo, for, as
everyone knows, the virgin caravan is famous because it is that which guides
the new crop of Virgins up to their temple in the Stormwalk mountains. The
cult is thoroughly pacifistic, and doesn't even allow guards to be hired,
for fear of inciting violence. Now, this was something to make the broos'
blood pound!
The first broo, the rat broo, quickly hopped to his feet and said "Well
chaps, I'm off. Meet you here in a few hours. Bring the linament." and
with that he dashed off to cross the bridge over the small river before
them. Suddenly, this, the smallest of the broos, was startled by a voice
rattling out from under the bridge: "In the name of Zorak Zoran, Who DARES
to cross my bridge?!"
The rat broo, not the brightest fellow, stopped and answered "It is I, a
poor little rat broo."
"Well," came the reply, "I am the troll under the bridge - I shall have to
eat you!"
"Please don't," the rat broo replied, "for my brothers are coming and they
are ever so much more filling and juicy than little scrawny me."
The troll thought a moment "Alright, you may pass" (This troll wasn't a
summa cum laude, either.)
Shortly after, the ox broo, hearing the squeals of the Virgin Caravan, and
decided he would join the little rat broo. As he stepped onto the bridge,
the voice challenged him:
"In the name of Zorak Zoran, Who DARES to cross my bridge?!"
"It is I, the ox broo," retorted the ox broo, feeling himself very
proud to have come up with such a concise answer.
"I must eat you."
THe ox broo, remembering the rat broos story, said the same thing
"Oh, Mr. Troll, my big brother is coming and he is much more tasty than me,
as well as much fatter."
The troll let him pass.
Finally, the normal broo comes down and sets foot on the bridge.
The troll pops out again, "In the name of Zorak Zoran, Who DARES to cross my
bridge?!"
The normal broo, thinking himself a superior shaman, was about to
haul out his totem when the Troll, tiring of these games and ready to get on
with it, whipped out the spell he had prepared the day before, cast it on
his axe, and lopped off the broos head.
The troll then, kicking the body in the water, went over to the Virgin
Caravan, killed the two wimpy broos, and a few human Virgins for good
measure. His task of ambushing the 3 broos that had terrorized this are for
a while, were no more than a memory. Now, he needed a good shot of Powzie."
*actually, this is the goatlike one we all know & love.
Having a 3, 2, and 0 yr old, I could do lots of these.
Steve Lieb
liebx004@maroon.tc.umn.edu
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