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CERAMIC D.M. the final judgement is in!
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<blockquote data-quote="Speaker" data-source="post: 614061" data-attributes="member: 6571"><p>‘Listen child, for I have a story for you that my own mother has told me many times. You must hear it so that you can tell your own children, for there is a lesson to this story that serves our family well. You are a clever one, so I will let you pick out the moral for yourself, and take it to your heart. It is the tale of our family’s wealth, and a warning. </p><p></p><p>‘The year of the opening had come to our people, that time when the earth changed and the outsiders came. Men awoke to find newborn powers amidst them, and strange things woke in all the places of the world. In that time, no one knew about magic, portal spells, or of the undead. </p><p></p><p>(Insert Geisha picture)</p><p></p><p>‘You have questioned me many times about the picture on the wall, and of that great jar that rests beneath it. I told you that the jar was my grandmother’s, and that she is the one in the painting. You in turn asked me why grandmother was dressed as a geisha woman—one who serves men with conversation, dance and singing—when our family is so rich. Although I did not then, I will now answer that question. </p><p></p><p>‘Hush your unspoken questions for a moment! Listen carefully, and set the words down in your mind as I have put them in mine. Listen.</p><p></p><p>‘Grandmother lived in a village by the sea, a place distant from the rumbles that the opening had begun in our land. She and many other geisha like her were often called upon to comfort nobles and merchants who rode through on their way up or down the coast. It was an unpromising job, with little coin to be had and conceited hearts to be dealt with. What little coin grandmother came by was needed for food and shelter.</p><p></p><p>‘It was late one night, under the full moon’s light—we had but one moon then, child, and hush—that the stranger came to take service from a geisha. He paid with strange coin, from a faraway land, and was given to my grandmother. He was a truly ugly man, his face a terrible mess, as if he had recently come to some great misfortune. There were terrible whispers about him, and all agreed that he dressed in clothes from far away. His hair clung lightly to his scalp, and his eyes were milky and dead.</p><p></p><p>(Insert ‘Zombie’ Picture)</p><p></p><p>‘Grandmother hid her disgust for his appearance, leading him to the night gardens, where pale white flowers bloomed under the sky, empty but for the unlidded moon above. They sat one benches opposite one another, and were silent for awhile as each let the cool night air embrace them. Then the stranger began to speak.</p><p></p><p>‘“Do you know about greed?” he asked, in a voice hoarse and weak, but in some way compelling.</p><p></p><p>‘Grandmother replied that she did indeed know greed, thinking of the merchants that came through her village and called upon her to boast about their latest feats of extortion.</p><p></p><p>‘“I was the greediest man alive.” The stranger proclaimed. He said the words without inflection, as if stating a fact. “My parents raised were rich in power and more mundane wealth, letting me acquire whatever I might want. I lived in a city where greed was a virtue, and businessmen sailed on great ships to trade and prosper. When I was young, I dreamed of being the greatest merchant to sail the seas. The wealth of the world would be mine.”</p><p></p><p>‘Now the stranger hesitated for a moment, as if lost in thought. Grandmother was silent. The garden was also silent, as if all the little animals in it had fled when the stranger arrived. There was no sound until the stranger gave a little cough, then started to speak again.</p><p></p><p>‘“I was a very poor trader. I had my own ship as a gift from my parents, and ample opportunities to buy and sell and profit. Yet, I did not have the patience for marketing. So I turned to other methods of making money. I became a pirate, a land raider and ship thief who stole from all for my own gain. Many of like mind followed me. We were villains all.”</p><p></p><p>(insert ‘fight’ picture)</p><p></p><p>‘Now that the stranger had begun his story, he seemed bent on telling it thoroughly and with great detail. He told of his first attack on another ship, as he first emptied the innocent merchant’s cargo hold and then set fire to the ship just to watch it burn. He told of a land raid against an eastern monastery, of how his men had swarmed the hills about the sacred building during the night, then attacked it at daylight with sword and fire. The monks had defended themselves well with stave and fist, and for their trouble were killed without mercy and the temple emptied of holy artifacts and gold. He told of many raids, many slaughters, and many depraved attacks against innocents for the sake of plunder and ill-earned gain. Such was his life.</p><p></p><p>‘Grandmother was horrified by the tales, as the stranger listed his misdeeds late into the night, each one as worse as those that came before and after. As the tales continued to mount she fought hard to control her temper, and remain a good listener despite what she heard. In her mind, she agreed vehemently with the stranger’s claim of greed.</p><p></p><p>‘Finally, as a glimpse of the sun's light was to be seen far off on the horizon, the stranger came to his last tale. He and his men had lain off the coast from grandmother’s village, preparing to attack the next day. They had feasted well on stolen meats, and drunk stored ale long into the night. Then the sea monster rose from the deeps and attacked the ship.</p><p></p><p>‘The stranger’s men had stumbled awake from their heaps on the deck, only to find the deck cracking beneath them like a thin shell between thick fingers. He himself had awaken from drunken stupor just in time to come face to face with the beast that was tearing his ship apart. A great monster it was, in the form of an octopi but much larger and much stronger. No sooner had the stranger seen it then the ship was smashed in two, and the sea rose to meet him and his crew.</p><p></p><p>‘All aboard died, the stranger escaped. For as he sank deep into the black depths of the ocean, his hand had clasped around a solid object that, to his wonderment, rose rather then sunk with the ship. He reached the surface to find himself holding onto a jug of some sort, imprinted with the very visage of the monster his ship had fallen prey to. Not knowing why he remained above the water, the stranger had grasped tight to the jug and floated for many days at sea. The sun shone down upon him, and the salt lashed against his skin. Still he floated, until one night he came ashore in a cove not far from the village.</p><p></p><p>‘Now the stranger spoke directly to my grandmother, his tale finished. “I have come to take the services of a geisha. I ask that you tell me whether what I surmise about my condition is correct. Will you do so?”</p><p></p><p>‘My grandmother, truly without choice, was forced to agree.</p><p></p><p>‘“My first question is this. From my past deeds, would you not agree that I was an evil man, filled with avarice and thoughtless ravenousness?” </p><p></p><p>‘Boldly, my grandmother replied that this was so. He had indeed portrayed himself as such a man.</p><p></p><p>‘The stranger nodded in acceptance of her judgement, then continued. “My second question is this. Would the destruction of my ship and a curse of some sort be suitable punishment for my sins?”</p><p></p><p>‘To this also grandmother agreed. It could very well be possible that a terrible man like the stranger could find himself cursed for following a depraved life.</p><p></p><p>‘The stranger nodded once more, then asked one final question “How might I remove any such curse from my person, then?”</p><p></p><p>‘Grandmother thought for a long moment, then replied that redemption might be possible through good deeds, and acts of mercy rather then acts of pain and desire. But why, she asked, did the stranger deem himself cursed in such a way?</p><p></p><p>‘This time the stranger did not nod. Instead he heaved a great sigh, and his breath was like the whisper of a wind that accompanies the setting of the sun. Without a word, he reached an arm into his weather stained and torn shirt, and produced a rusty dagger that he wasted no time in thrusting into his own flesh, where the heart is found. Before grandmother could move or even gasp in horror, he pulled the weapon back out to reveal unbroken flesh.</p><p></p><p>‘“When I reached the shore near your village, a voice spoke to me from the air itself, saying that I was cursed with death in life. I am to remain blighted until I follow the advice of a wise soul to my redemption. That person is you, and you have laid upon me my mandate. Now I have a task to follow until I can die in peace.”</p><p></p><p>‘With no more words then that, the stranger left the room, new purpose in his stride. Grandmother was left alone in the night garden. For a long time, she sat still, thinking about all she had heard and marveling at what she had seen. Then she rose, went to her quarters and put on clothes suitable for difficult travel.</p><p></p><p>(insert Minoan ‘Jar’ picture)</p><p></p><p>‘She reached her destination as the sun reached the lower thresh-hold of the sky kingdom. This was the beach upon which the stranger had claimed his arrival, washed ashore by the waves, borne by a gift from the sea. Indeed, grandmother saw that jar upon the sand. In addition, it was not alone. All about it was gathered the countless coins and treasures of that strangers ship, washed ashore by the same magic that bore him to earth.</p><p></p><p>‘This, child, is the treasure of our family, the gift of a man who died and yet continued to live. Grandmother took the jar and the gold scattered about it, and made our fortune. If you have been listening carefully, then you know why this tale is ours to remember, and I urge you to keep any lesson you have learned always in your heart.</p><p></p><p>‘For somewhere, a dead man walks, hoping to bring true wealth to those in need.’</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Speaker, post: 614061, member: 6571"] ‘Listen child, for I have a story for you that my own mother has told me many times. You must hear it so that you can tell your own children, for there is a lesson to this story that serves our family well. You are a clever one, so I will let you pick out the moral for yourself, and take it to your heart. It is the tale of our family’s wealth, and a warning. ‘The year of the opening had come to our people, that time when the earth changed and the outsiders came. Men awoke to find newborn powers amidst them, and strange things woke in all the places of the world. In that time, no one knew about magic, portal spells, or of the undead. (Insert Geisha picture) ‘You have questioned me many times about the picture on the wall, and of that great jar that rests beneath it. I told you that the jar was my grandmother’s, and that she is the one in the painting. You in turn asked me why grandmother was dressed as a geisha woman—one who serves men with conversation, dance and singing—when our family is so rich. Although I did not then, I will now answer that question. ‘Hush your unspoken questions for a moment! Listen carefully, and set the words down in your mind as I have put them in mine. Listen. ‘Grandmother lived in a village by the sea, a place distant from the rumbles that the opening had begun in our land. She and many other geisha like her were often called upon to comfort nobles and merchants who rode through on their way up or down the coast. It was an unpromising job, with little coin to be had and conceited hearts to be dealt with. What little coin grandmother came by was needed for food and shelter. ‘It was late one night, under the full moon’s light—we had but one moon then, child, and hush—that the stranger came to take service from a geisha. He paid with strange coin, from a faraway land, and was given to my grandmother. He was a truly ugly man, his face a terrible mess, as if he had recently come to some great misfortune. There were terrible whispers about him, and all agreed that he dressed in clothes from far away. His hair clung lightly to his scalp, and his eyes were milky and dead. (Insert ‘Zombie’ Picture) ‘Grandmother hid her disgust for his appearance, leading him to the night gardens, where pale white flowers bloomed under the sky, empty but for the unlidded moon above. They sat one benches opposite one another, and were silent for awhile as each let the cool night air embrace them. Then the stranger began to speak. ‘“Do you know about greed?” he asked, in a voice hoarse and weak, but in some way compelling. ‘Grandmother replied that she did indeed know greed, thinking of the merchants that came through her village and called upon her to boast about their latest feats of extortion. ‘“I was the greediest man alive.” The stranger proclaimed. He said the words without inflection, as if stating a fact. “My parents raised were rich in power and more mundane wealth, letting me acquire whatever I might want. I lived in a city where greed was a virtue, and businessmen sailed on great ships to trade and prosper. When I was young, I dreamed of being the greatest merchant to sail the seas. The wealth of the world would be mine.” ‘Now the stranger hesitated for a moment, as if lost in thought. Grandmother was silent. The garden was also silent, as if all the little animals in it had fled when the stranger arrived. There was no sound until the stranger gave a little cough, then started to speak again. ‘“I was a very poor trader. I had my own ship as a gift from my parents, and ample opportunities to buy and sell and profit. Yet, I did not have the patience for marketing. So I turned to other methods of making money. I became a pirate, a land raider and ship thief who stole from all for my own gain. Many of like mind followed me. We were villains all.” (insert ‘fight’ picture) ‘Now that the stranger had begun his story, he seemed bent on telling it thoroughly and with great detail. He told of his first attack on another ship, as he first emptied the innocent merchant’s cargo hold and then set fire to the ship just to watch it burn. He told of a land raid against an eastern monastery, of how his men had swarmed the hills about the sacred building during the night, then attacked it at daylight with sword and fire. The monks had defended themselves well with stave and fist, and for their trouble were killed without mercy and the temple emptied of holy artifacts and gold. He told of many raids, many slaughters, and many depraved attacks against innocents for the sake of plunder and ill-earned gain. Such was his life. ‘Grandmother was horrified by the tales, as the stranger listed his misdeeds late into the night, each one as worse as those that came before and after. As the tales continued to mount she fought hard to control her temper, and remain a good listener despite what she heard. In her mind, she agreed vehemently with the stranger’s claim of greed. ‘Finally, as a glimpse of the sun's light was to be seen far off on the horizon, the stranger came to his last tale. He and his men had lain off the coast from grandmother’s village, preparing to attack the next day. They had feasted well on stolen meats, and drunk stored ale long into the night. Then the sea monster rose from the deeps and attacked the ship. ‘The stranger’s men had stumbled awake from their heaps on the deck, only to find the deck cracking beneath them like a thin shell between thick fingers. He himself had awaken from drunken stupor just in time to come face to face with the beast that was tearing his ship apart. A great monster it was, in the form of an octopi but much larger and much stronger. No sooner had the stranger seen it then the ship was smashed in two, and the sea rose to meet him and his crew. ‘All aboard died, the stranger escaped. For as he sank deep into the black depths of the ocean, his hand had clasped around a solid object that, to his wonderment, rose rather then sunk with the ship. He reached the surface to find himself holding onto a jug of some sort, imprinted with the very visage of the monster his ship had fallen prey to. Not knowing why he remained above the water, the stranger had grasped tight to the jug and floated for many days at sea. The sun shone down upon him, and the salt lashed against his skin. Still he floated, until one night he came ashore in a cove not far from the village. ‘Now the stranger spoke directly to my grandmother, his tale finished. “I have come to take the services of a geisha. I ask that you tell me whether what I surmise about my condition is correct. Will you do so?” ‘My grandmother, truly without choice, was forced to agree. ‘“My first question is this. From my past deeds, would you not agree that I was an evil man, filled with avarice and thoughtless ravenousness?” ‘Boldly, my grandmother replied that this was so. He had indeed portrayed himself as such a man. ‘The stranger nodded in acceptance of her judgement, then continued. “My second question is this. Would the destruction of my ship and a curse of some sort be suitable punishment for my sins?” ‘To this also grandmother agreed. It could very well be possible that a terrible man like the stranger could find himself cursed for following a depraved life. ‘The stranger nodded once more, then asked one final question “How might I remove any such curse from my person, then?” ‘Grandmother thought for a long moment, then replied that redemption might be possible through good deeds, and acts of mercy rather then acts of pain and desire. But why, she asked, did the stranger deem himself cursed in such a way? ‘This time the stranger did not nod. Instead he heaved a great sigh, and his breath was like the whisper of a wind that accompanies the setting of the sun. Without a word, he reached an arm into his weather stained and torn shirt, and produced a rusty dagger that he wasted no time in thrusting into his own flesh, where the heart is found. Before grandmother could move or even gasp in horror, he pulled the weapon back out to reveal unbroken flesh. ‘“When I reached the shore near your village, a voice spoke to me from the air itself, saying that I was cursed with death in life. I am to remain blighted until I follow the advice of a wise soul to my redemption. That person is you, and you have laid upon me my mandate. Now I have a task to follow until I can die in peace.” ‘With no more words then that, the stranger left the room, new purpose in his stride. Grandmother was left alone in the night garden. For a long time, she sat still, thinking about all she had heard and marveling at what she had seen. Then she rose, went to her quarters and put on clothes suitable for difficult travel. (insert Minoan ‘Jar’ picture) ‘She reached her destination as the sun reached the lower thresh-hold of the sky kingdom. This was the beach upon which the stranger had claimed his arrival, washed ashore by the waves, borne by a gift from the sea. Indeed, grandmother saw that jar upon the sand. In addition, it was not alone. All about it was gathered the countless coins and treasures of that strangers ship, washed ashore by the same magic that bore him to earth. ‘This, child, is the treasure of our family, the gift of a man who died and yet continued to live. Grandmother took the jar and the gold scattered about it, and made our fortune. If you have been listening carefully, then you know why this tale is ours to remember, and I urge you to keep any lesson you have learned always in your heart. ‘For somewhere, a dead man walks, hoping to bring true wealth to those in need.’ [/QUOTE]
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