UpBySnittlegarth

The story takes place many centuries ago, back before the borders lie where they are now. This story begins beyond Papcastle, up past Snittlegarth, high up in Mungrisdale, up on the shoulders of high Skiddaw, near where men grew small and shrunken from delving into the bowels of the mountain, to bring back sacks of purest dob. The story takes place many centuries ago before the plagues, when few men were free, but instead usually belonged to the lord of their land, even were forbidden from leaving the land, but were instead required to work the fields for him, as serfs. This story takes place high up, where the clouds travel down the mountains to clothe the hilltops in mist, bathing the trees of the forests in rain nearly every day, turning the grass to moss, and the dirt to mud. One day in the village, there appeared amongst the huts a stranger. Flanked he was by soldiers, each wearing shining mail, using their spears as walking sticks, with arming swords of guid-iron by their side. The Stranger was dressed in finery the like of which had not been seen in the village in living memory. His boots were a fine leather, almost too fine to slog through the mud that plagued the paths and tracks that people travelled, through the dripping wet forest. His trews were not of homespun, but were finery. His velvet cap had a long, fine, pheasant feather in it. His finery was such that you could tell that he was not, himself, the pheasant plucker. He stepped onto the small village green, the patch of mud and patchy grass at the centre of the huts huddled on the high hill side, unrolled some vellum and began to read. “Hear ye, hear ye! To whomsoever wishes a life of Adventure: all you need to do is make your way alive to the keep of our Lord, the Mormaer, down by the sea's Edge, and entertain him with the stories of your venture. “If you do so, you will be freed of your life of serfitude.” He looked around the assembled crowd, expectantly until several of the villagers — I say villagers, but only because I don't know the word for the people of a hamlet. Ham is an old word for village, and hamlet is something even smaller than a village. And I don't know the word for people who live there. Anyway, back to our tale — eventually several of the throng came forward. He nodded at those brave souls, nodded briskly. said “Follow me.”, spun on his heel, and began walking down down dale out of the hamlet, into the wet green forest. As he did so, the soldiers turned & flanked him, escorting him into the trees The serfs looked at each other, shrugged, and fell into step behind the fine fellow in his fine clothes, then entered the forest behind him. Within hours, the villagers were further from the village than they had ever been before, for it was rare to travel more than 10 miles from the place of your birth in those days lang syne And by midday, the Gent turned to them, and said, “Here is where we must part ways. I must travel back uphill to find some more foolhard— more fine, brave, fellows. “You must travel down dale, deeper into the forest, until you make your way at last to the Sea.” Once more he span on this heel, turning his back on the group, and this time strode briskly up the hill. One of his guards looked at them, pointed them in the downdale direction with the tip of his spear, before turning on his heel and following the crier. After more hours, the sun had begun to fall below the Treetops, whereupon the trees began to thin out, showing a clearing. Cutting across the clearing, there was a river; across the river was a thin, rickety wooden bridge; and in front of the bridge was a small strange, man. With trepidition, they approached him, nearer & nearer, until they neared him, the small man said. “If you wish to cross the bridge, there are but three ways: toll, riddle, or combat.” Well, being serfs, none of them had any coin to pay a toll, and they none of them were armed, save for the hoes they used to weed the fields of their lord. So every one of them, almost with one voice said, “Riddle, please.” “Well, that are very sensible of you. Each one of you must answer a riddle, or else face me in combat.” All of the group were well-muscled and wiry from a life of hard labour and there were several of them, but only one small strange man. I think it fair to say they did fancy their chances, should it come to a fight. So, the first riddle. Riddle me this audience. “Give me a drink. And I will. I will die. Feet me and I'll get bigger. Who am I?” I am a fire. If you put water over a fire, it dies. If you feed it more wood, it grows. “If you drop me, I will crack. But smile at me, and I'll smile back.” Would you like to know the answer or do you think you're nearly there? I am a mirror. If you drop a mirror, It will crack; it will break across. But if you smile at a mirror, it smiles back at you. It's a mirror. “I am light. I am as light as a feather. Yet nary even the strongest can hold me for even a few minutes.” What is very light? But you cannot hold it for any length of time. Not even if you're very, very strong. The answer is. Your breath. Your breath is very light but you cannot hold it for long. “What can you break, yet never touch.” A promise. You can't touch your promise but you can break a promise. “The more you take, the more you leave behind.” Footsteps. What grows down as it grows up? A goose Okay. So, It turns out, that none of the people, none of the group, were able to answer any of the riddles, and so they were all killed by the small strange, man. The End The small strange, man, who asked the riddles? Riddles, the questions that I asked. You got none of them, you answered. None of them. So, it turns out None of the people were able to cross the bridge. And the small strange man killed them all. The end. But normally, if you tell it to a whole room of people, people answer the riddles. So one by one, the group gets to cross the bridge. And here's the other ending. I'm So how did it end after they crossed the bridge? They made their way through the wolf-ridden, midge-filled forest to the court of the Mormaer. And, starved, as he was for entertainment, he greatly enjoyed their tall travellers’ tales. They were rewarded for their stories with their freedom; with arms and armour; and a miscellany of other things useful to brave souls who have left their lives behind and are now seeking some way to make their way in the world that does not involve back-breaking farm labour. Time does not record what glory or notoriety befell them. But I suspect they still ended up doing the Mormaer’s bidding, just in a different way. With a greater sense of Freedom ; less back-ache; and more scars. The end. ––– With timings : The story takes place many centuries ago, back before the borders lie where they are now. This story begins beyond Papcastle, up past Snittlegarth, high up in Mungrisdale.upon the shoulders of high Skiddaw, near where men grew small and shrunken from delving into the bowls of the mountain, to bring back sacks of purest dob. The story takes place many centuries ago before the plagues, when few men were free, but usually belonged to the lord of their land and were forbidden from leaving the land, but were instead required to work the fields for him as serfs. This story takes place high up, where the clouds travel down the mountains to clothe the hilltops in mist, bathing the trees of the forests in rain nearly every day, turning the grass to moss, and the dirt to mud. 01:58 One day in the village, there appeared amongst the huts a stranger. Flanked he was by soldiers, each wearing shining mail using their spears as walking stickd, with arming swords of good iron by their side. The Stranger was dressed in finery, the like of which had not been seen in the village in living memory. 02:23 His boots were a fine leather, almost too fine to slog through the mud, that plagued the paths and tracks that people travelled through the dripping wet forest. His trews were not of homespun, but were finery. His velvet cap had a long, fine, pheasant feather in it. His finery was such that you could tell that he was not, himself, the pheasant plucker. 02:55 He stepped onto the small village green, the patch with mud and patchy grass at the centre of the huts huddled on the high hill side, unrolled some vellum and began to read. “Hear ye, hear ye! To whomsoever wish a life of Adventure: all you need to do is make your way alive to the keep of our Lord, the Mormaer, down by the sea's Edge, and entertain him with the stories of your venture. 03:30 “If you do so, you will be freed of your life of serfitude.” He looked around the assembled crowd, expectantly until several of the villagers – I see villagers but only because I don't know the word for the people of a hamlet. 03:50 Ham is an old word for Village, and hamlet is something even smaller than a village. And I don't know the word for people who live there. Anyway, back to our tale – eventually several of the throng came forward. He nodded at those brave souls, nodded briskly. said, “Follow me.”, spun on his heel, and began walking down downdale out of the hamlet, into the wet green forest. As he did so, the soldiers turned & flanked him, escorting him into the trees 04:26 The serfs looked at each other, shrugged, and fell into step behind the fine fellow in his fine clothes, then entered the forest behind him. 04:41 Within hours, the villagers were further from the village than they had ever been before, for it was rare to travel more than 10 miles from the place of your birth in those days. And by midday, the Gent turned to them, and said, “Here is where we must part ways. I must travel back uphill to find some more foolhard— more 05:06 Fine Brave fellows. “You must travel down dale, deeper into the forest, until you make your way at last to the Sea.” Once more he span on this heel, turning his back in the group and this time strode briskly up the hill. One of his guards looked at them, pointed them in the downdale direction 05:30 with the tip of his spear, before turning on his heel and following the crier. After more hours, the sun had begun to fall below the Treetops. Whereupon the trees began to thin out, showing a clearing. Cutting across the clearing, there was a river. And across the river was a thin, rickety wooden bridge. 05:55 And in front of the bridge was a small strange, man. With trepidition, they approached him. As they neared him, the small man said. “If you wish to cross the bridge, there are but three ways. Toll, riddle or combat.” Well, being serfs, none of them had any coin to pay a toll. 06:25 And they none of them were armed, save for the hoes they used to weed the fields of their lord. So every one of them, almost with one voice said, “Riddle, please.” “Well, that are very sensible of you. Each one of you must answer a riddle, or else face me in combat.” 06:53 All of the group were well-muscled and wiry from a life of hard labour and there were several of them, but only one small strange man. I think it fair to say they did fancy their chances, should it come to a fight. So, the first riddle, Riddle me this audience. 07:18 Give me a drink. And I will. I will die. Feet me and I'll get bigger. Who am I? 07:32 This is the audience participation part of the story. Time for you to answer the riddle if you can. Give me a drink and I will die. Feed me and I'll get bigger. Who am I? 08:17 I am a fire. 08:27 If you put water over a fire, it dies. If you feed it, more wood. It grows. 08:38 If you drop me, I will crack. But smile at me, and I'll smile back. 08:50 If you drop me, I will crack. But smile at me and I'll smile back. 09:14 Would you like to know the answer or do you think you're nearly there? [09:21 Crack. Um, Track is to have. Man, so here's I don't know if you can see this, but there is a crack on the glass protector of my phone. A crack is just a little brick. That runs across something. So if you were going to repair kansugi, The what the bit that you repair is the crack. 09:52 Okay. Okay, so that's a crack. If you drop me, I will crank But smile at me and I'll smile back. 10:14 If I drop, if you drop me, I will crack. But smile at me. And I'll smile back.] 10:28 No, I'm saying, who am I 10:34 Okay. I am a mirror. If you drop a mirror, It will crack. It will break across. But if you smile at a mirror, it smiles, back at you. It's a mirror. Okay, I am light. I am as light as a feather. Yet nary even the strongest. – Sorry I'll say it in character – 11:06 I'm as light as a feather, yet nary even the strongest can hold me for even a few minutes. Or I am as light as a feather and not even the strongest can hold me. Even for a few minutes. 11:41 What is very light? But you cannot hold it. Not even if you're very, very strong. 11:54 The answer is. 11:59 Your breath. 12:04 Your breath is very light but you cannot hold it for long. 12:16 Okay, what can you break? Yet, never touch. 12:30 I'm going to tell you. A promise. You can't touch your promise but you can break I promise. Okay. Two last ones. Well, actually, one last one, I'm not gonna give you the very last one. The more you take, the more you leave behind, 12:59 Footsteps. Okay. So, It turns out. That none of the people, none of the group were able to answer any of the riddles and so they were all killed by the small strange, man. 13:21 The End 13:26 The small strange, man, who asked the riddles? Riddles, the questions that I asked. You got none of them, you answered. None of them. So, it turns out None of the people were able to cross the bridge. And the small strange man killed them all. 13:56 The end. 14:01 But normally, if you tell it to a whole room of people, People answer the riddles. So one by one, the group gets to cross the bridge. And here's the other ending. So how did it end after they crossed the bridge? They made their way through the wolf-ridden, midge-filled forest to the court of the Mormaer. 14:26 And, Starved, as he was for entertainment, he greatly enjoyed their tall travellers’ tales. They were rewarded for their stories with their freedom, with arms and armour, and a miscellany of other things useful to brave souls who have left their lives behind and are now seeking some way to make their way in the world that does not involve back-breaking farm labour. 14:53 Time does not record what glory or notoriety befell them. But I suspect they still ended up doing the Mormaer’s bidding. Just in a different way. With a greater sense of Freedom, less back-ache. And more scars. The end.