The shop girl is slightly aggrieved by the question and insists on not addressing it until customers have left her establishment, for fear of jinxing their temper and souring her sales.
In between their visits, she shares a story that's been passed on down generations. It was old when her grandmother was barely toddling.
When Sa-Hareth was only just shaping, and the mountain tribes had yet to combine, there rose the young warrior Arne, destined for greatness. Among his people, he had the savage cunning of the wolf and the searching eye of the eagle, and the wit of a hundred ancestors. He woke with an axe in each hand, and never partook of wine brew past his measure, defended the lands and carried out raids and broke the salt mines to bring the people resources. He never raised voice against his lessers, never turned his hand on those who could not defend themselves, and all men agreed, he was best suited to take over from the chieftain.
But the chieftain had a son he meant to see to greatness, and a fear in his heart of Arne's growing popularity. One day, after winning another season's hunt, Arne presented himself before the chieftain and asked on both knees for his blessing and his endorsement, that Arne should be named his successor. He would marry the chieftain's daughter, if he wished, and live in the chieftain's home as blood of his blood, if he were willing, and he would swear fealty before all.
The chieftain would not have him. But he feared reprobation for a public rejection, and instead he asked of Arne to prove himself and his commitment to the tribe one last time. If Arne cared to lead, then he must above all defend the dignity of his people. And so, the chieftain gave Arne his signet ring, the pride of their tribe, to keep in his right hand, and he set Arne to be bound three days and three nights against the oldest tree of the forest. To prove himself, Arne must stay as he was put and never flinch or ask release, and hold on to his ring.
Arne agreed.
On the first day of his binding, the chieftain sent his loyal people to come and throw rocks at the warrior, and beat him with branches, and humiliate him with words, and offer him good salt and coin for the ring. Arne bore it all, and he did not ask release, and he did not give the ring.
Each night, the cold worsened.
On the second day, the chieftain sent the most beautiful maiden of the village to tell Arne that his mother slept on death's bed, and he must see her now, before she passes. And that the maiden has loved him well, and they might elope after together, and the ring in his hand might be her wedding token. Arne bore it all, and he did not ask release, and he did not give the ring.
On the third day, the chieftain neared despair, and he called on the spirits of malice of the forest to work his vengeance. And they sent for him a great bear in the forest, vicious and fierce. Arne, without luck or weapon, did not ask for release. The bear approached and scratched him and tore at his flesh, until it took in his great mouth the whole of Anurr's arm, past the elbow, and in that hand, the ring. And the bear's maws closed down.
And Arne bore through the pain and the agony of the bear's bite, until the third night was done, and he released himself in one mighty shake. Then, he fought the bear down with his healthy arm and wrestled it, and broke its neck. After, his gnawed arm could not be salvaged, and he gave it for cutting, to spare the rest of his body. But first, he showed the chieftain the ring that he'd safeguarded three days and three nights, and before his people, the chieftain could do nothing but give Arne his mantle.
After, so impressed was the tribe by Arne's nobility and strength, that each year when boys ascended to manhood, they asked for needle ink to tattoo a red-sleeve circle on their arm, in the same place where Arne's was bitten by the bear, then sawn down. Then, they were tied up against the tree for three days and three nights, to meditate on their courage, and whenever the colds roused, they would call out with chattering teeth for Arne's strength. And the other tribes so heard them, Arne, Arrrrn, Anrrrr, Anurr.
So, he became known, among all people, Anurr the Bold and Anurr the Red Sleeve, or Anurr the Red.
The shopping girl finishes with a flush to her cheeks and shrugs, all the same:
But this is an old story, and we were cold before Anurr, and we have been cold after.
no subject
In between their visits, she shares a story that's been passed on down generations. It was old when her grandmother was barely toddling.
When Sa-Hareth was only just shaping, and the mountain tribes had yet to combine, there rose the young warrior Arne, destined for greatness. Among his people, he had the savage cunning of the wolf and the searching eye of the eagle, and the wit of a hundred ancestors. He woke with an axe in each hand, and never partook of wine brew past his measure, defended the lands and carried out raids and broke the salt mines to bring the people resources. He never raised voice against his lessers, never turned his hand on those who could not defend themselves, and all men agreed, he was best suited to take over from the chieftain.
But the chieftain had a son he meant to see to greatness, and a fear in his heart of Arne's growing popularity. One day, after winning another season's hunt, Arne presented himself before the chieftain and asked on both knees for his blessing and his endorsement, that Arne should be named his successor. He would marry the chieftain's daughter, if he wished, and live in the chieftain's home as blood of his blood, if he were willing, and he would swear fealty before all.
The chieftain would not have him. But he feared reprobation for a public rejection, and instead he asked of Arne to prove himself and his commitment to the tribe one last time. If Arne cared to lead, then he must above all defend the dignity of his people. And so, the chieftain gave Arne his signet ring, the pride of their tribe, to keep in his right hand, and he set Arne to be bound three days and three nights against the oldest tree of the forest. To prove himself, Arne must stay as he was put and never flinch or ask release, and hold on to his ring.
Arne agreed.
On the first day of his binding, the chieftain sent his loyal people to come and throw rocks at the warrior, and beat him with branches, and humiliate him with words, and offer him good salt and coin for the ring. Arne bore it all, and he did not ask release, and he did not give the ring.
Each night, the cold worsened.
On the second day, the chieftain sent the most beautiful maiden of the village to tell Arne that his mother slept on death's bed, and he must see her now, before she passes. And that the maiden has loved him well, and they might elope after together, and the ring in his hand might be her wedding token. Arne bore it all, and he did not ask release, and he did not give the ring.
On the third day, the chieftain neared despair, and he called on the spirits of malice of the forest to work his vengeance. And they sent for him a great bear in the forest, vicious and fierce. Arne, without luck or weapon, did not ask for release. The bear approached and scratched him and tore at his flesh, until it took in his great mouth the whole of Anurr's arm, past the elbow, and in that hand, the ring. And the bear's maws closed down.
And Arne bore through the pain and the agony of the bear's bite, until the third night was done, and he released himself in one mighty shake. Then, he fought the bear down with his healthy arm and wrestled it, and broke its neck. After, his gnawed arm could not be salvaged, and he gave it for cutting, to spare the rest of his body. But first, he showed the chieftain the ring that he'd safeguarded three days and three nights, and before his people, the chieftain could do nothing but give Arne his mantle.
After, so impressed was the tribe by Arne's nobility and strength, that each year when boys ascended to manhood, they asked for needle ink to tattoo a red-sleeve circle on their arm, in the same place where Arne's was bitten by the bear, then sawn down. Then, they were tied up against the tree for three days and three nights, to meditate on their courage, and whenever the colds roused, they would call out with chattering teeth for Arne's strength. And the other tribes so heard them, Arne, Arrrrn, Anrrrr, Anurr.
So, he became known, among all people, Anurr the Bold and Anurr the Red Sleeve, or Anurr the Red.
The shopping girl finishes with a flush to her cheeks and shrugs, all the same:
But this is an old story, and we were cold before Anurr, and we have been cold after.