Of Gimlet, barbarians and Sune



  • Character Name: Gimlet Bearhug
    Account: Freit

    "Once upon a time-"

    "Not thyme! Grass!"

    The bard sighed. "Once upon some grass…"

    "Tell story right! Grass have snow on top. Ice, also."

    "Look. You're paying me to tell your story to these people, right?"

    "Yes. I pay."

    "You're paying because I'm a professional. This is what I do. Trust me - this is how they like their stories here."

    "Okay. You cute. I trust. Good clothes, also. Like the shiny part."

    "Uh.. thank you. As I was saying... Once upon some... snow and ice, there lived a barbarian tribe called the Bearhug tribe."

    "In tents."

    "Yes. In a tent town. They were called the Bearhug tribe because of the way their men-folk had of fighting. They would wear a thorny chest-plate, rush into battle and grib their foes in a fatally tight embrace. The women had a little trouble with this techqnique, so they would usually trust to axes, instead. Now, one of these axe-wielding women was the young Gimlet, named after the boring tool due to the way in which she came out of her mother."

    "She never stop complaining. Until she die in cattle raid. Then she stop. But shaman say she come at night, sometimes, complain to him."

    "Quite. Gimlet was unusual in a number of ways. First, she was well-spoken... You're SURE about that, Miss Gimlet?"

    "Yes! I best tongue-whipper in tribe! Win sacred deer haunch three times!"

    "So... well-spoken, very attentive to her looks, which was quite unusual in her society..."

    "I use herb ration for face color, not make-well tea. Shaman not mind... Shaman mate, she mind."

    "-and she also had red hair, called 'bloodhair' by her tribe and considered an ill omen. Despite many attempts to dye it a plainer shade, she remained without a match well past the mating age. This changed rather drastically with the arrival of a half-elven paladin to the town."

    "He beautiful. No wings, but still good, good looks. Look like boar on spit over fire when you hungry for a moon-change. Want to run, sink teeth in and-"

    "I think we get the general picture. This paladin was there on an errand for his Temple. As a brother of the Holy Rose, he was charged by Sune's clergy with the protection and retrieval of artefacts of great beauty."

    "He Firehair boy."

    "I said that. He served Sune, Lady Firehair."

    "No. Mean hair."

    "Oh, right. He was a redhead, too. After a long trek through the northern lands and nothing but snow and rugged peoples to look at, the paladin must have been pleasantly surprised to find Gimlet. A single, vain, attractive redhead among a bunch of dark-haired, rough-living people with thorny chests and big axes. The half-elf decided to stay for a week or three, during which he slept in Gimlet's tent."

    "And-"

    The bard coughed. "-in Gimlet's TENT, where the two doubtless SPOKE about many matters of importance. He told her of Sune, and of how her red hair was a symbol of the goddess's favour. He persuaded her that Lady Firehair was a better patron for her than Auril or Uthgar, and that she didn't belong in the tribe. Perhaps most importantly, he instilled in her the notion that all that was beautiful was good, and all that was ugly was unfit to live, unless it were willing to improve itself."

    "SMITE UGLY!"

    "That puts it rather concisely, yes. The paladin also made sure to tell the tribe that Gimlet had 'potential'. This proved to be a mistake, since the leaders thought that 'potential' was some dread disease and quarantined the two bloodhairs."

    "Not mistake. Was fun. We-"

    "Talked a whole lot more." Another cough. "Eventually the paladin had to continue on his quest, leaving Gimlet alone, heretical by local standards, and utterly itching to... erm... smite some ugly. Which she promptly did."

    "Haha! Yes! Raven tribe!"

    "As you say. The Bearhug tribe had an ongoing rivalry with the Raven tribe, involving monthly cattle raids, brawls and other barbarian sports. Being smaller, older and more isolated than the Bearhug tribe, the Ravens were somehat inbred. This made them... well, not very pretty... and poor at competitions. Their losses in turn made them bitter and occasionally vicious. It didn't take long for the charismatic and enthusiastic Gimlet to assemble the young of the Bearhug tribe and mount a decisive surprise attack on the Ravens."

    "Ha! YES! All ugly go."

    "That's what I meant by 'decisive'. By the following morning, all the Ravens had been... erm... 'smitten' and their valuables-"

    "Shiny, pretty, some with gems."

    "Reappropriated. As it turns out, the tribe elders were less than pleased with the result of the raid. It seems the reason the Bearhugs had a high standard of living - for barbarians - was that the Ravens did all of the hard work, and the Bearhugs raided their surplus. With that tribe out of the way, the Bearhugs would have to begin to work themselves, and possibly even exchange their nomadic wanderings for a settled community where they could farm and have a reasonably secure food supply."

    "Bah! Tent need to move!"

    "So thought the elders. They made a move to 'smite' Gimlet-"

    "I not ugly! Pretty!"

    "Yes, yes. They moved to remove Gimlet, but she managed to stay one step ahead of them by removing herself, and eventually ended up in the town of Norwick."

    "Camp."

    "And later the gypsy camp. There. I told your story, now where are my fifty gold pieces?"

    "Here." Gimlet handed the bard a suspiciously bulky bag.

    "What in the... ARGH! These are... are these... these are bits of spiders!"

    "Yes! Fifty pieces! Cooked in campfire. They all gold now."

    "What am I supposed to do with fifty spider chunks?!?"

    "Eat? Sell? Maybe make pipe out of leg. Roast eye make nice ball for play, but break fast. If freeze first, maybe can use in sling."

    And with that, the bard marched off.



  • Reviewed - XP Pending.