From: Loren Miller (email@example.com)
Date: Sat 05 Aug 2000 - 22:41:24 EEST
One day Trickster came into the hall bloody, bruised, dirty, covered in
feathers, pine needles and wriggling beetles that were stuck to him with
tree sap, mud and glue, dragging an enormous sack behind him. It was a huge
sack, bulging in very odd ways, and the sounds of mooing, snorting,
snuffling, baaing, whimpering, growling, snapping, cracking, clucking, and
giggling came from inside, while an overpowering aroma of smoke, latrine
odors, lemons, burned meat, and alcohol billowed out across the hall.
The Chieftan was seated in his seat, surrounded by the members of his ring.
They all looked upset about something, and shot glowering, thunderhead looks
towards Trickster when he staggered inside.
"Trickster, what are you bringing with you?" asked the Chieftan.
"Doodads, collectibles and odds-n-ends, that's all," replied Trickster.
"Anything to eat, Trickster?" asked the Chieftan.
"Something to eat, perhaps. You know what an appetite I have," replied
"It is time to break our fast, what have you for us?" asked himself.
"Well, I might have some eggs in here," replied Trickster. He glanced at the
ring, opened a flap and reached inside the sack. He pulled out a chicken,
then another, then another, then another and another and more, until he had
removed thirteen chickens. Twelve chickens promptly sat on the floor and
laid eggs, and the thirteenth, a rooster, stalked angrily about the hall
pecking at this and that.
"We need something to drink with that," said himself.
"How about some shandy for your breakfast?" proposed the Trickster. He
reached inside the sack, then dissappeared entirely inside it and came out
of it rolling a beer barrel. "It's fine Overhill brew, sirs."
The Chieftan and his ring looked at each other with raised brows.
He disappeared inside the sack again, and came out carrying a lemon tree in
a three-foot planter. "And some lemons, also coincidentally Overhill grown,
to make the beer suitable for morningtide comestation and degustation."
"You must have many things in there, Trickster," said the Chieftan.
"That I do, milord, sirs. May I be off to my room to clean up now?"
"Just a moment, Trickster," said the Chieftan. "We have been talking this
morning about the Overhills, who have expressed concern about our wellbeing.
And during the course of our consultations, we have discovered a new Thing.
Something that has never been seen before in lands of men or gods."
"What is it, milord?" asked the greedy Trickster.
"It is called Blame, dear Trickster, and it looks like this club or this
stone, but it is a hidden power that has heretofore been secret." The
Chieftan held up a gnarled, oaken club in one hand and a black granite stone
in the other. "Have you ever heard of such a Thing, dear Trickster?"
Trickster said, "No, milord, but I find it wonderful to behold. May I?"
"Would you like to take the Blame, lovely Trickster?" asked the Chieftan.
Trickster said, "Oh yes, milord. I am forever acquisitive as you know, and
nothing delights me so much as to possess something that is entirely New."
The Chieftan nodded at his ring, and they rose as one and threw stones at
Trickster and set about beating him with clubs. He screamed and ran out the
door with them following him, bedeviling his heels with stones and a severe
At the edge of the woods the Trickster picked up one of the Blame Stones. He
turned around and shaked it in his fist. "I'll take the Blame this time,
milords, but someday you will taste it of me." They started to beating him
again, and Trickster fled into the gloomy, dark depths of the wood to nurse
his wounds and mend his pride.
The Chieftan and his ring laughed and returned to the hall. They gathered up
half of the things that Trickster had stolen from Overhill and returned
them, and gave the Overhill people the secret of how to Blame the Trickster.
It was reckoned a good bargain, and from then on Trickster has always had to
Take the Blame.
For your use, insert names where appropriate.
Loren Miller <firstname.lastname@example.org>
A breath of fresh air for Web Design and Development
This archive was generated by hypermail 2.1.7 : Fri 13 Jun 2003 - 22:26:26 EEST