April 20th Topic Trouble

[Tehya]

This week's topic was suggested by Ehlanna so I hope we have a good response.

The topic is Trouble which means you can create your work on situations of distress, or the response of being in trouble, or the one causing the trouble.

I won't be adding a new topic for about 10 days so people have time to respond with their work.

Most of all have fun with it!

[Stormbringer]

[Ehlanna]

And my go for this:

[mozenwrathe]

*Not all endings within Belariath are bad ones. Some of them are horrible. A few of them are not even truly endings at all, but transitions from one state to another. Only those who believe the world is against them consider every ending something to be feared. Of course, there are a few whom the world really -is- against, but they tend to have alternate views on everything anyway.*

M.O.U.R.N.F.U.L. (Many Out Under Rainfall Never Fully Understand Loss)
by Vipunen Tuonela, barbarian wanderer

Are there many places I have walked toward and ended up running away from. This is not anything unusual when you find out there is less in your leather satchel where you kept your coin than you thought. Of course, not all the time have I stayed away. Most of the time have I returned when I earned enough money to pay back for any debts I owed. At least, that was for taverns and inns. The last thing any wanderer needs is people hunting him down for things he has long since forgotten. Though are there some regions that it is best to just travel through and pretend they never existed. Ones where perhaps a rival tribe holds sway over the lands, or some petty landowner that doesn't understand your need to ravish a few of his milkmaids and abscond with two prize ducks for a meal. After all, when someone has so much, they should be more than willing to allow a few things to go missing for those who need it more.

I know that those little weak-wristed and fair-skinned folk call such theft, but they know nothing of what it means to truly have something stolen from them. Their pride, their Name, their Spirit-Spear - those are things which can be taken from a person and cause them no end of grief and strife. I should know: two of those were taken from me when I was a child by those who had grievance with my mother's bloodline. Ever since then, have I known nothing of peace and satisfaction remaining in any place for very long.

My personal pride was the first to be removed, and that was by rites and rituals set up by those against my mother's line. Though why they went after me was easily explained: was I the youngest from my mother's line and therefore the weakest. The rites were to prove my manliness, and the ritual to show my prowess. These were things normally done during one's thirteenth winter and I was nowhere close to such. However, others of my mother's bloodline said it was for the best that I was the one to shoulder their suffering, for was it unlikely those against them would do anything too severe. There was only so far they could lean against the elders of the tribe to do as they wished. Some traditions could not be bent or twisted far enough to cause permanent loss, for then such standard would be held over everyone. Let us say that I failed so miserably, that the shaman and druid holding it calmly took the spear from me and told me I would never hold weapon to hunt for the tribe in my life. The mocking laughter from those around was shaming, but it was not as bad as the damning looks of sorrow in the eyes of those who had been my blood relatives.

Next, was my Name. My Name, as opposed to my name, is what those of the tribe would call me. That was burned in flames on my thirteenth High Summer's Glory. Once again, ritual and rite that were set against me. Things I could not complete without holding weapon to hunt, for the rites chosen all required a very specific weapon. Did I complete the sacred hunts those three days? Yes, and with greater reward than any of my rivals of that year. My skills at hunting and tracking were not the best within the tribe at all, but those competing against me were so horrific, they did half of my work for me. Did I not brag or boast, but accomplished the hunt and slew the hind as swiftly and painlessly to it as possible. Yet was I told I had failed against, for the heart of the hind was to have been pierced with a spear - the same one I had been denied holding. Now had I failed two Grand Rites and two Minor rites for my tribe, and shown up those who had succeeded in both at the same time. Jealousy welled up in the hearts of those whom once called me "friend" and "brother." Knew I know that my time was done within my tribe. Had I now know Name and was just "son of" or "grandchild of."

That Low Winter's Moon, did I speak with my family for the last time. Those others of my mother's bloodline had come to our lodgings as well to speak of my fortunes. Bones had been rolled, and my fortunes were not so good to be spoken of in front of my mother. My father's rage simmered as all my mother's bloodline spoke about me as if I was not there in the room. Before it came to peak, he uttered something in an old tongue I had never heard him use before. It silenced the room and caused my mother for the first time to draw steel with both hands, looking at the front of the yurt itself. It was my grandmothers who presented me with the two daggers have I never lost, both of them with handles made from elk horn. Prized beyond belief, I looked upon them askance, not knowing why such would be given to me. Kisses were placed upon my brow as it was explained to me that before the dawn lifted the veil of slumber over the tribe's lands, would I need be gone.

It was then heard I the horn of war being blown. Someone had sought to challenge one of my tribe's champions with one of their own. It was the perfect time for me to get myself going. Blessings were given swiftly, and each one of my relatives gave me something different. Clothing from some, food and drink from others. Was my Bloodline Name given to me then, and that have I kept as what those whom are not of The People to call me: Vipunen. While all those left to go to their yurts and lodgings to gather up their families, did I wait until after the horn of war was blown for the fifth and final time. Dodging around through a back ways, I scrambled into the forests and swore to myself not to return to my tribe's lands until I had regained my pride and earned myself a new name. Have I learned since then those who hated my mother's bloodline had tried to convince priestess of both Aden`Ver and Ishtar to cast shroud and suffering over my breath and blood. They failed, mainly as my mother's youngest brother ended up seducing them both. (He was always one to never be satisfied with just one.)

My life since then has always been on the move. Never stopping anywhere long enough to grow attached and grope the chance for a future. I do not believe I ruin all the opportunities myself, but I have to admit some things have I done are not the wisest. Have I been enslaved more than once, but never for too long. My elk-handle daggers have I always hidden safely to retrieve them. It is as if my family line blessed them to forever be bonded to my spirit. I would not be surprised if they had, or if those daggers were part of the reason my mother's bloodline was so despised by their rivals. Still, using them to free a few slaves was quite fun. That was, of course, after ravishing their captors two at a time. Not that I normally in indulge in men, but they were drunk and it was at the bathing hall of that town. I had been without for a while, so I thought they would make for great sport. And they did, satisfying my lusts quite well. They were simply none too amused to find their stock had run away on them. Ah well, such things happen.

Of course, there was also the time I took some food from the hands of an ogre that was about to hurl it into the dirt. If he was going to waste it, then I was going to eat it. Such arrogance with perfectly good bread should never be allowed, my one aunt would tell me. That earned me a duel in the public square with the male. He clearly was looking to rape my ass after breaking my arms to show off his strength. What I did not know was that I was apparently supposed to lose, as one of those so-called lairds of the town loved watching his favoured champion shove his massive flesh-pike into tight asses of men. Though I found myself bloodied and bruised, the ogre was left on the ground bleeding to death. This earned me two nights sitting in a small stone room with nothing but water, and a fine of fifty mehrial for "public fighting." This, being the winner of a duel I had not wanted to begin with. One can imagine how long I remained in that town for. Of course, I made sure to visit said laird's rather impressive stone cottage at the edge of the town first. After all, I needed to pay him due "respects." As one might expect, I've not shown myself in that region for at least two years. I doubt the man would have forgotten who made him mewl like a kitten for four hours straight.

I cannot say that I am a good or kind-hearted person. I have tried to do as little wrong in the ways of my people as possible. Those who do wasteful things around me, do I occasionally sabotage. Those whom have done me wrong, have I sought suitable vengeance against. And women with firm behinds, have I groped if I thought I could get away with it. There is nothing truly against the spirits in my actions, so I've not understood exactly why I have managed to have so trouble come my way when I've done nothing to earn it for a change. Maybe it is a delayed response from the gods themselves? I know not. All that matters is I've still my elk-horn handled daggers and my regained pride. Once I find myself a new Name, will I go and seek out the trouble my being born earned me and face it head on to vanquish it.

[One]

loving your pic for this one, Ehlanna.

[Eraelabryn]

She's crying, cause she is in trouble cause her nipples went flat!

[Stormbringer]

Always a danger when having extreme implants!

[Eraelabryn]

Poor thing! now she will have to sell herself to the Inn, to make up for the Healer's Fees.

[Ehlanna]

We don't buy by the pound so sadly she won't get enough ...