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@Draconian
War always left people desperate for distraction, for entertainment, for the odd chance of a laugh. And the men and women occupying the seedy little pub - rogues, drifters, soldiers on leave and their female companions (many working) - were no exception. And the current distraction was a young woman juggling old beer bottles. The woman looked, frankly, somewhat ridiculous. From bottom to top, she had on short green boots, harlequin tights of faded red, gold, and green, an oversized tunic with quarters of blue and white, embroidered with a frayed golden stars and a sun, with an absently smiling face, and to top it off a floppy black felt hat complete with a large white plumed feather. Whatever bird it came from must be from some foreign land; nothing like it could be found here. Her face, naturally fair, was accentuated with bright red, perfect(-ish) circles on her cheeks, pink lips, and thickly outlined coal around her eyes; the effect of which made her look something like a doll. It was the perfect look for a fool. Or, more specifically, for Foal the Fool, the Fantastic, Troubadour Extraordinaire! When one of the more cynical thugs in the pub threw another - full! - one at her, she deftly caught it, sending it flipping through the air with the others. That got a hearty round of laughs. She should remember that trick!
When the trick was over, she threw each empty bottle with an upward flourish to the bartender behind her. Except the full one. She threw that back to the man who threw it at her in the first place, throwing him a wink along with it.
"Come on, then, girl," a man called from the back. "Enough tricks. Give us a story."
Perfect timing. "Of course, m'lord," she answered at once, with a silly bob of a curtsy. "I'll tell the tale of Terrwyn the Terrible, fearsome dragon lord of the southern mountains, and how he was destroyed by the simple shepherd Adelmo. But to tell it," she continued, pulling out a large, velvet sack of deep blue. It was large enough to carry a person, and when the girl pulled aside the sack, it revealed the limp form of a dragon, deep red, and bigger than the girl was! A gasp escaped one of the painted women perched on a mercenary's knee.
"Shush, lass," the man hissed, "it's just a puppet."
Foal shot him a sly smile, then propped the 'puppet' up into an upright position. She crouched next to it, her right arm positioned behind it (where no one could see!), clutching the place where its bat-lke wings met its back. Like any good uppet, it sprang jerkily to life, golden eyes opening and rolling dramatically.
"It is I!" the puppet's mouth flapped up and down, while Foal's only just
barely moved. "Terrwyn the Terrible! What was it I heard? These lowly mortals want to hear the tale of how I stole the beautiful daughter of the Fair Duke, and how I was smote by the crawling little maggot Adelmo the Shepherd?"
The dragon began the tale. Of how he was the petty and gluttonous tyrant of the southern mountains, taking whatever he liked from the people who lived in fear of his hellish fire: their sheep, goats, and gold. Until one day, traveling through the green hills that lay beneath his mountain, he spotted the virgin daughter of the Fair Duke of the North. She was normally a princess, but Foal adjusted the story for the local traditions of having dukes instead of kings. In fact, what was great about this story was how adaptable it was. And with the current audience, it took on a rather bawdy tone. Terrwyn the Terrible got quite a few laughs making rather crude euphemisms about just what he wanted with this pretty virgin daughter, while Foal made overly shocked expressions at his crass comments. They got more obscene until finally Foal clipped the puppet over the head, and he continued with the story, telling of how he grabbed the daughter of the Fair Duke and took her back to his lair high in the mountains.
Then Foal took over the story. "And when news reached the Fair Duke that his daughter lay in the clutches of the Terrible Dragon, he sent knight after knight to do battle with the beast. But one by one the dragon dispatched them," here the 'puppet' made exaggerated slashing of its claws and snapping of its jaws, "while the beautiful daughter of the Fair Duke lived in the shadow of his cavernous home, fearful and alone. Finally all the brave knights were either dead or too afraid to go forth to face the beast. Hope was lost in the kingdom, until..." The story continued with the poor, common shepherd boy Adelmo, who had glimpsed the Fair Duke's daughter once in his boyhood, and sworn his love for her ever since. When news reached Adelmo of her plight, and the fate of the many trained knights who had gone to rescue her, the shepherd did not cower in fear. Instead, he ventured alone to the dragon's black mountain, accompanied only by his trusty sheep dog. She told of how he won his way into the dragon's lair by trickery and smarts and how, when he freed the Fair Duke's daughter and they thought they would make their escape, they were cornered by Terrwyn the Terrible. At this point, the dragon puppet's wings snapped open, to some effect. She told how Adelmo fought the dragon fearlessly, but the dragon wrent down flame and fire - here the puppet sparked a small flame and pupped a little smoke - and how, were it not for his trusty sheep dog, Adelmo would have been smote down by the dragon. But thanks to his trusty dog, who distracted the dragon at the critical moment when it was ready to snap little Adelmo like a twig, Adelmo was able to hew the dragon's head from it's body. For all the ex-soldiers and mercenaries, she spared no detail of the blood and gore of it all. The puppet gave an exaggerated lurch, and fell stiffly and awkwardly to the ground.
"But in its final writhing," Foal continued seriously, "it crushed the trusty sheep dog, Adelmo's lifelong companion. Unashamed, Adelmo wept for this lost. But the greater task, he knew, was to return the Fair Duke's daughter to safety. And so he bore her back, only to win her love for his heroic feats. And when they returned to the Fair Duke's castle, seeing the affection his daughter bore the poor, common shepherd boy, the Fair Duke lived up to his name and married the pair himself. And that is how Adelmo, born beneath the open sky to a penniless shepherdess became the Duke of his people, ruling fairly and justly; and just as he'd won the love of his Duchess, so he won the love of his people. Until the day, as an old, weary man, he closed his eyes and ran into the fields after his beloved old sheep dog, reunited in the world beyond."
