09-29-2014, 11:34 AM
Tonight's first story is told, entirely in rhyme, by an effervescent Galliard, a Fostern of the Uktena.
It is a riddle.
No one guesses it.
This delights her, and makes the Great Alpha chuff an annoyed breath behind her. But after the Talesinger has told the first tale of the night, full of numbers and full of spirits without name and doubling back on itself a dozen times leaving more than a couple of Ahrouns with headaches and leaving more than a few Philodoxes puzzling it out for the next week, she yields the center of the circle to the next storyteller, and the next.
It is a riddle.
No one guesses it.
This delights her, and makes the Great Alpha chuff an annoyed breath behind her. But after the Talesinger has told the first tale of the night, full of numbers and full of spirits without name and doubling back on itself a dozen times leaving more than a couple of Ahrouns with headaches and leaving more than a few Philodoxes puzzling it out for the next week, she yields the center of the circle to the next storyteller, and the next.
my whole life is thunder.