An Escape

In a remote corner of a very distant land lived an insufferable old witch and her ward, an attractive maiden barely of child-bearing age, that no one had ever actually laid eyes on.  Still somehow, rumours of the girl's insurmountable beauty spread through the land (largely spread by the old woman herself, no doubt). Indeed, the woman had won guardianship of the girl as the result of a dodgy wager struck by one of her blood relations.

To protect her property..er.. ward, the wretched old hag kept the poor girl in a tower and commanded the girl to make herself useful.   The girl did try her best, but with no education, no resources, and no real guidance, all she could manage to do productively was to grow a great deal of soft shiny hair.

Except to make sure the girl was regularly fed and watered, and safely hidden away under lock and key, the greedy old bat mostly neglected the girl. The haggard witch travelled abroad frequently in search of wealthy suitors who were gullible enough to pay the exorbitant dowry the old crone demanded.

Not surprisingly, because the witch was so heinous, physically and personally, she was never welcomed into the elegant parlours and garden parties where the best wealthy fools congregated, and only rarely permitted to stay in quaint wholesome villages where foolish young upstarts sought their fortunes. As a result, only ruffians, pirates and misfits would listen to her outrageous boasting of the girl's talents and beauty.  Eventually a thief, thinking to settle down with a wench of his own, decided to 'liberate' the damsel as his final heist.

The young thief's attempt was foiled by the canny old witch just as he reached the base of the maiden's prison tower. While the  old witch was busy hurling vitriolic curses and scratching out the thief's eyes, our generously coifed heroine used the distraction to uncoil herself from the clutches of the cantakerous old hag by shimmying down the drainage pipe and escaping into mediocrity.

A Woman Scorned

Long ago, when most gentlemen were still expected to also be gallant and brave, a young rogue accidentally won the heart of a naive maiden. But when she revealed her love to the young knight, he refused to court her. Humiliated, the young girl shut herself away in a tower, and swore she would not be seen again.

For weeks, she did not speak to anyone or eat a single morsel. She only cried and tore at her hair.  After a while her grief consumed her. Some say she starved, others say she spun her own hair into a hangman's noose and flung herself from the tower, but most agree she died of a broken heart.

In her agony, before she died, she wrote a note to the local magistrate, begging him to see that her death was avenged.

Unsure of how to adjudicate a clear fatal case of unrequited love, the tired old public servant took the maiden's corpse on a long upriver journey to see the king.

At each harbour on the way the magistrate told the maiden's tragic tale, in the hopes that someone would reveal how to bring justice to a broken heart.  Some heard the story and said only ''Bah, tis a shame'', and others upon hearing the tale, lamented a great deal of their own suffering at the hands of love and cried to bring the rogue to justice! But most would whisper behind their fingers, of fools in love and hopeless battles.

But even as the magistrate arrived with the corpse to the riverbanks of the capital, the folks in the countryside were already forgetting the maiden's sorrowful plight and moving on with their lives. And even though the king declared  the lady's tragic death a great loss for cause of chivalry, no actual justice was ever meted out for the woman scorned.

A Dragon's Tail

In a faraway land of mountainous expanses and deep mysterious caverns, a man named George was travelling down a quiet mountain pass when he spied the shadow of a great fiery dragon in  a distant mountain crevice.

George had never seen a dragon before but a friend's mother's neighbour's dog had once been eaten by a dragon.  So naturally, George immediately thought to kill the dragon and become a famous hero among his peers.

George waited patiently until the beast spread its great wings over the mountain side and glided through the air.  George saw that the scales upon the dragon's back glittered like jewels.  He thought to himself that perhaps such a kill would make George rich too.

Then George saw with horror that there was a beautiful girl clutched against the dragon's chest.

"What luck!"thought George.  "I'll not only be a wealthy hero, but I shall win the gratitude of and devotion of a fair maiden!"

George levelled the sight of his bow on the heart of the  huge shimmering beast and let his arrow fly.  His aim was true and the beast plummeted to the ground in the road ahead.  When George arrived to the spot where the beast lay dying, he was dumbfounded by the sight of the maiden cradling the monstrous lizard's head in her arms. Her sorrow flowed ceaselessly upon it's great muzzle as it died.

Young George was aghast. He stopped and stared impatiently at the pathetic girl wailing over the lifeless corpse.  Out of respect, George wanted  to wait for  the right moment to present itself before sweeping in for his trophies and claiming his rightful place in history. But as the girl sobbed over his prize, it never seemed the right moment to step in and skin the beast as he had originally planned.  He thought perhaps the girl would not mind if he merely plucked a few scales, or pulled a few of the monster's giant fangs. But try as he might, he could not get near enough for even a talon clipping. Every time he approached, the girl would become inexplicably hysterical.

George eventually slumped past them and went home empty-handed.  Lucky for him, this was way before anyone really thought to ask for evidence or proof of such strange stories. So when he told his tale of how he took out the dragon, George very quickly became quite famous as a heroic dragon-slayer, princess-rescuer and all-around pretty super-awesome guy. He lived fairly happily until someone cut his head off a few years later.

The End.

The Tragic Lovelife of the Strongest Man Alive

There was a time beyond memory when barbarian tribes elected their chief based purely on physical strength and appearance. No one ever questioned the wisdom in such customs because important decisions (like which customs to follow) were usually decided in a battle to the death.

The very strongest chief in history had the most beautiful head of luscious locks anyone had ever seen; so naturally, everyone did exactly what he said most of the time.  When it came to women, it should come as no surprise that he could take his pick of any woman in the tribe, but there was really only one he ever wanted.

Not only was the object of his affection terribly beautiful, but it was generally agreed upon that she was also quite wild and a little dangerous. So it was no wonder she was smitten.

Anyone could have told him that she was nothing but trouble, except they didn't, because he was the chief and no one was willing to go to battle over a foolish woman.  Most people just assumed he would come to his senses, but he never did. Love is sometimes like that.   The legendary chief was well and truly blind to his beloved's faults, and she made it her business to make a tidy profit from his.

One evening a couple of opportunists overheard her boasting of her influence upon the the famous chief.  They wagered a shekel that if her lover was true, he would set aside his power to possess her. Having a certain amount of decency, she refused the wager out of hand... until they offered her 30 silver pieces (which was a lot of money then). She took their generous wager and set to work bullying her poor besotted lover into cutting himself off from the source of his power. Quite literally, she made him cut his hair. Short.

Tragically, he had a very oddly shaped head.  And in a culture that chooses its leaders for their muscles and manes, an oddly shaped head could ruin a political career, which it inevitably did.

The chieftain lost his confidence in no time, and soon his desire to workout. He grew as weak and whiny as a child.  His incessant bellyaching eventually drove his troublesome woman to leave him forever (which may have been for the best), and soon everyone wanted to fight him for the position of handsomest man in town.

Sibling Rivalry

In a far away place a very long time ago, there lived a pair of brothers.  As children they were as close as brothers could be, but each was different in his way. The elder brother was a temperamental lad, blessed with a green thumb. While the younger was a spirited boy with gentle manners and a skill for wrangling animals.

For some reason, their father preferred the younger, kinder son, and so resentment poisoned the elder brother's heart towards his own family. Eventually, the jealous boy became  a self-centred and vicious man.

One day the elder brother went to his father and demanded to be given his rightful inheritance. His father, who liked to think himself a just man, gave him half of his entire estate.

But still, the elder brother was not grateful. Instead, he lusted after his brother's share and plotted to relieve him of it.

Sure enough, the younger brother was soon discovered dead. And the elder brother had become so unscrupulous, that he threatened to abandon his father lest he give him his newly totalled inheritance. His father, thinking himself a wise man, agreed to turn over every last sheep and shekel; though not before he could hold an appropriate service in his recently dead son's honour.
The greedy scion, who was known to be vain as well as volatile, magnanimously agreed to grant his request.

The funeral service was the most extravagant extravaganza of all time. His father spared no expense and all the guest marvelled at the lavish opulence of the affair.

Once all the guests had sung their dirges and gobbled up their fare share, the son turned once again to his father and demanded the remaining share of his father's wealth.

His father, patted him on the shoulder and told him there was nothing left.  ''Every shekel was spent, every last cask of wine was poured, and every sheep was sheered and shish-kabobbed.  Now take your fortune and go!''

And so the greedy man left his father's house never to return and lived miserably ever after.

A Scapegoat Story

Way back when a two-curtain tent was the height of modern luxury, there lived a young warrior and his very old and superstitious father.  In often vain, and sometimes amusing attempts to gain the smiles of fortune, the old man would make up elaborate rituals. Most of his practices involved harmless costumes, charms and the occasional fad diet. However, the older the man got, the more frequently the old guy would rely on his young son's growing fame and prowess as a warrior to gain power and influence among his tribespeople.

When the long drought came, the tribespeople looked to him to save their children from starvation (after they had tried everything else that made sense).   The old man tried every last crazy ritual he could think of, but nothing broke the drought's bitter grip. The old man grew desperate.

One night in a drunken haze, the old fool became convinced  that the only way to end the drought was through human sacrifice.  He told the tribe that his god demanded it and since he was the only one who God ever talked to, they would all just have to take his word for it.

"I would happily sacrifice myself,'' said the old rabble rouser, ''But what sacrifice is a tired old man?"  The tribespeople agreed that it would be no sacrifice at all, really. But no one really wanted to sacrifice themselves, or their kin and everyone argued that if they went, it would be no great loss, so the gods would not be impressed and the drought would continue anyway.

It was soon noted that the most useful person in town, was the warrior son of the old man and all agreed that if a human sacrifice was going to work, it would have to be the old man's son laid out on the altar. The old man worried that if he sacrificed his talented son, he would be ruined, but he also knew that if he didn't ,the tribespeople would think he was a fraud.

To prove himself as a true leader and holy-man, the old man took his son to the top of the holiest mountain he could find, tied him to an altar,  and just as he raised his blade to strike the boy he muttered a short prayer to his god.

"Bah!" came the reply.

A goat stood in the bramble eyeing the old man accusingly.  The man, naturally, took it as a sign and barbecued the goat.

Then it rained, and everyone totally lost their minds over the coincidence.

The Baby in the Basket

A couple of years before the oldest olden days, there was a poor miserable drunk, who used his wife for a punching bag and would drink himself blind so frequently, he never really paid attention to exactly how many children he had. Unfortunately for everyone, he had a quite a few more than most.

His wife, who once had been beautiful, was a weak but kindly creature couldn't bear to see so many of her children suffering under the terrible influence of their father. So every once in a while she would try to liberate a few of the smaller children who still showed promise, by sending one or two at a time down the river in a basket.

She prayed that the crocodiles lurking in the river would prove better guardians than the children's slovenly father. Granted, more than a few of the drunkard's seed were gobbled up whole.

Nevertheless, every so often, a wily young river rat would conquer the river and get himself adopted by some powerful family of the time. When these survivors grew to become powerful men and women themselves, they got together and formed a formidable army to liberate the remainder of their long-suffering siblings from the grasp of their tyrannical father, who was more than likely still too drunk to recognize his own children.