A Dancers Tale
Posted: Sat Sep 24, 2005 12:30 am
A Dancers Tale
A long time ago, before we all were forced into the Darkness Below by the Kitins, in our old beloved homeland of Trykoth, there lived a young Tryker girl named Sorya OCautty. Sorya was the daughter of a long line of mages, but she herself had never shown any great interest in spells. Instead she was a dancer, the finest dancer anywhere between Jeniah and Breneth. Lithe and fast, graceful and strong, her dances brought joy to all who saw her, like the sun dancing on wave tops. Young sailors brought her trinkets from every shore, old sea captains lost their heart to her, but to Sorya there was only the dance.
But then the Matis came and took our people as slaves. We fought but were too few. We ran, asked our friends for help, and begged the other homins for refuge. But the Fyros were too busy chasing the dragon and the Zoraï closed their gates and their hearts to us. And so we toiled in palaces far from our beloved shores in halls of living wood polished with our tears and our sorrows and our hearts heavy with despair.
Many other tales of great Tryker heroes were born in those years. Every Tryker living knows the names and deeds of Loria and those in her Company. But Sorya too played a part in delivering us all to accustomed freedom.
So let me teach you the Dance of Sorya. Let me show you her graceful movements, the true magic of dance and the power of its steps.
First follow Soryas steps as she fell into Matis bondage. Heavy with shackles, filled with pain and anguish and loss of freedom, home and family. Five times you must dance to the dark beat of the deepest drum those steps, The Dance of Wooden Darkness, once for each year as a slave in cursed woods.
During those long years of chains and shackles, Sorya never stopped planning; never stopped thinking; never let her heart fall to darkness. So in her place now never set a foot wrong in the steps of Waves Remembered.
Then finally one night Sorya found a way to free all the Trykers bound like her below the palace. Like her stamp your foot right hard at the drum in the first beat of Sudden Inspiration.
Hiding her wrath behind a mien of fear, disguising her pride in a servants bow, veiling her determination with false tears Sorya pretended obedience to her Matis masters. Those haughty lords and ladies reveled in having broken yet another Tryker spirit as Sorya reveled in deceiving them. Show that wrath and pride and determination as you dance to the Music of Matis Deceived.
Then like Sorya shackled in her cell show them the steps of True Heart Reveiled.
Next follow Sorya through the Dance of Time as she practiced her art. Not one toe put wrong as she did not, or all will be lost now, as it would have been then.
As Soryas Dance reached perfection, she told the other Trykers enslaved of her plan. Like the word spread then, dance through the steps of Waves of Whispers as all gained new hope.
Sorya went to the Matis who claimed her as his possession. Bowing before him, she flattered his ears with a silver-tongued tale of a dance created in his honor. Curling her supple body against him like a playful kitten, she convinced him to let her perform. Play both parts well, seducing dancer, seduced watcher, as you move through Master and Servant.
A call went out to all the Matis in that palace, to all the Matis in that city, to all the Matis in that land, that their Lord commanded their presence and attention that night, to show them the submissive Tryker slave girl dancing before her Matis master. Pace yourself hard through the steps that play out the scene of messengers running, servants building a feast, guests arriving. Three times dance the Steps of Preparation as the three balconies of the Great Hall were filled with guests.
Now you are ready, so as Sorya OCautty was then, to face her Matis enslavers on a battlefield of her choice with a weapon of her choosing. No words do true justice to describe her. As all the slaves clapped a low, slow rhythm, she began her dance near naked, her body shining with oils under a thousand candle flames. Her dance bound the eyes of all, her leaps caught the breath of all, her spins took them all in, as she wove her ancestorss magic into her dance. None of us will ever dance again as she danced that night so make the ancient movements of Dance as Battle and Magic.
As Sorya danced and bound all Matis eyes to her, the spell began to bind them. Faces and jaws went slack, glasses went crashing to the floor from loose hands, not a word was heard from her audience as should not be heard from yours, young dancer.
As Sorya danced through the spell she had devised, the Tryker slaves freed themselves and fled the woods that were the graves of so many of them. Even when the hurried footsteps of the last slave left the hall, no Matis could free himself from the spell.
All slaves but one. The last slave but one.
For Sorya still danced. Deep into the night she danced. Hour upon hour she stepped through the intricate movements, every foot where it should be, every gesture as intended, for one mistake would break the bond and cost them all their lives. Finally long after the sun had risen again, Sorya fell to the polished wooden floor, as you will of exhaustion, in the Spiral of the Dying Whirlpool. She was dead before the first enraged Matis could reach her. And so she too was a slave no more.
So remember this deed, young dancer, as you dance like we did then the steps of Freedom Refound and remember Sorya OCautty.
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adapted from another legend
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A long time ago, before we all were forced into the Darkness Below by the Kitins, in our old beloved homeland of Trykoth, there lived a young Tryker girl named Sorya OCautty. Sorya was the daughter of a long line of mages, but she herself had never shown any great interest in spells. Instead she was a dancer, the finest dancer anywhere between Jeniah and Breneth. Lithe and fast, graceful and strong, her dances brought joy to all who saw her, like the sun dancing on wave tops. Young sailors brought her trinkets from every shore, old sea captains lost their heart to her, but to Sorya there was only the dance.
But then the Matis came and took our people as slaves. We fought but were too few. We ran, asked our friends for help, and begged the other homins for refuge. But the Fyros were too busy chasing the dragon and the Zoraï closed their gates and their hearts to us. And so we toiled in palaces far from our beloved shores in halls of living wood polished with our tears and our sorrows and our hearts heavy with despair.
Many other tales of great Tryker heroes were born in those years. Every Tryker living knows the names and deeds of Loria and those in her Company. But Sorya too played a part in delivering us all to accustomed freedom.
So let me teach you the Dance of Sorya. Let me show you her graceful movements, the true magic of dance and the power of its steps.
First follow Soryas steps as she fell into Matis bondage. Heavy with shackles, filled with pain and anguish and loss of freedom, home and family. Five times you must dance to the dark beat of the deepest drum those steps, The Dance of Wooden Darkness, once for each year as a slave in cursed woods.
During those long years of chains and shackles, Sorya never stopped planning; never stopped thinking; never let her heart fall to darkness. So in her place now never set a foot wrong in the steps of Waves Remembered.
Then finally one night Sorya found a way to free all the Trykers bound like her below the palace. Like her stamp your foot right hard at the drum in the first beat of Sudden Inspiration.
Hiding her wrath behind a mien of fear, disguising her pride in a servants bow, veiling her determination with false tears Sorya pretended obedience to her Matis masters. Those haughty lords and ladies reveled in having broken yet another Tryker spirit as Sorya reveled in deceiving them. Show that wrath and pride and determination as you dance to the Music of Matis Deceived.
Then like Sorya shackled in her cell show them the steps of True Heart Reveiled.
Next follow Sorya through the Dance of Time as she practiced her art. Not one toe put wrong as she did not, or all will be lost now, as it would have been then.
As Soryas Dance reached perfection, she told the other Trykers enslaved of her plan. Like the word spread then, dance through the steps of Waves of Whispers as all gained new hope.
Sorya went to the Matis who claimed her as his possession. Bowing before him, she flattered his ears with a silver-tongued tale of a dance created in his honor. Curling her supple body against him like a playful kitten, she convinced him to let her perform. Play both parts well, seducing dancer, seduced watcher, as you move through Master and Servant.
A call went out to all the Matis in that palace, to all the Matis in that city, to all the Matis in that land, that their Lord commanded their presence and attention that night, to show them the submissive Tryker slave girl dancing before her Matis master. Pace yourself hard through the steps that play out the scene of messengers running, servants building a feast, guests arriving. Three times dance the Steps of Preparation as the three balconies of the Great Hall were filled with guests.
Now you are ready, so as Sorya OCautty was then, to face her Matis enslavers on a battlefield of her choice with a weapon of her choosing. No words do true justice to describe her. As all the slaves clapped a low, slow rhythm, she began her dance near naked, her body shining with oils under a thousand candle flames. Her dance bound the eyes of all, her leaps caught the breath of all, her spins took them all in, as she wove her ancestorss magic into her dance. None of us will ever dance again as she danced that night so make the ancient movements of Dance as Battle and Magic.
As Sorya danced and bound all Matis eyes to her, the spell began to bind them. Faces and jaws went slack, glasses went crashing to the floor from loose hands, not a word was heard from her audience as should not be heard from yours, young dancer.
As Sorya danced through the spell she had devised, the Tryker slaves freed themselves and fled the woods that were the graves of so many of them. Even when the hurried footsteps of the last slave left the hall, no Matis could free himself from the spell.
All slaves but one. The last slave but one.
For Sorya still danced. Deep into the night she danced. Hour upon hour she stepped through the intricate movements, every foot where it should be, every gesture as intended, for one mistake would break the bond and cost them all their lives. Finally long after the sun had risen again, Sorya fell to the polished wooden floor, as you will of exhaustion, in the Spiral of the Dying Whirlpool. She was dead before the first enraged Matis could reach her. And so she too was a slave no more.
So remember this deed, young dancer, as you dance like we did then the steps of Freedom Refound and remember Sorya OCautty.
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adapted from another legend
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