The Decameron 2.0

Day 6.3 Trickery - THE BATTLE AT KITRON VALLEY reumaster

Appreciative murmurs spread through the crowd. Most agree that the story captures Crow quite well.

"Too bad he couldn't be here," a voice in the back jokes.

"He'd probably steal it," another says.

More laughter passes about. The Tricksters are in a good mood. That's promising. I rest my chin on my fist and glance up at you. You appear utterly enthralled.

"Very good," the leader says and then calls the book. It slides through the air, releasing a faint scent of smoke and burning grass, and the leader tucks it into the massive robe. For one last moment, the indigo light intensifies and then vanishes. "We are off to a promising start. This tale becomes our own now. Now come forth, Anansi."

Ahh, Anansi. He's one to keep an eye on, laughing one minute, deadly in the same. But he is one of the best when it comes to retrieving gripping tales. He may not have been able to keep all the world's wisdom in a single pot, but he excelled at capturing stories. But no one moves from the crowd. Is he even here?

Suddenly, he appears, sliding down from the ceiling on a long silk cord. He has chosen a mostly human form though sometimes his eyes are like the eyes of a spider. Yet he smiles, a smile so friendly that it's easy to trust him. He moves with quick energy, and the distinctive adornments on his face shine in the dull light. His necklace of large, painted wooden beads clatters with his every step.

"As I have paced the world, gathering tales and rain, I came across this one which I offer to you, my tricksy friends. The author of this tale is one youth called Reuben. Known also as the @reumaster. It's a rather delicious story with some of my favorite elements." Anansi twists his hands about and then makes a violet book appear. He laughs with delight and lets it slide out into the currents of the air, making it wobble and dip and pretending to let it fall upon the viewers' heads.

But still the book finds its mark, and slowly it spins. The light radiates. A faint scent begins to release, a scent like blood, burned flesh, and melting metal.

"Let our tale begin in a land far from this in a world not our own," Anansi says.

The Battle at Kitron Valley by @reumaster

Cold wind blew through Vindal's clothes making his cape toss and twist in the wind. For a human this weather would be freezing, but for a giant this was normal.

Snow built up in his beard and hair. Ever vigilant, the lone giant stood guard on the mountain top. He would stand watch no matter what.

Crunching snow made him turn around to see a large form walking towards him. A smile crept over his face as he watched his heavyset friend huff and puff as he walked up the steps. He let out a bellow, "Ho there! Bodor," he called out. "What are you doing out here?"

Bodor huffed through his long thick beard and sat down on a rock with a heavy thump. "I came up to ask if you were gonna stand vigil the whole night or if you were gonna come down and join the party." He spoke faster as if afraid Vindal would stop him. "You don't have to stand guard the whole night. The truce stands until tomorrow."

Vindal smiled slightly, but then his face turned hard, "I don't trust the cyclops, them or their allies. They could betray the truce and murder us all at this feast. Besides why would we trust anyone who makes an alliance with goblins or trolls?"

Bodor chuckled. "Vindal, sometimes you need to loosen up. Even if they did launch a surprise attack, we always have our weapons on us. Even sleeping I keep mine in bed with me. So why don't you join the party, drink a barrel of mead, eat a hunk of salted beef."