Storyteller

Still haven't figured out fully, how this works, but it seems like I'm getting the hang of it. Maybe this is keeping me occupied on boring days like this. Or maybe I should just get a life outside of work and Aikido... can't cope with to much spare time. Well, still have a book to finish... book 3 of the Liveship traders. If you ask me, the Assassins Aprentice and the Tawny Man trilogies of Robin Hobb are better.
Well, once I've finished this one, I'll probably go for Empress by Karen Miller.
Looking forward now to Friday, when the Course with Master Kimura starts. First time, I'm on a course by a 7th Dan. Hope this is going to be good.

Oh well, I'm the storyteller, so I guess I should start telling a story. Well, let's start with the setting of this adventure. It was night, it always is, nobody expects an adventure to start by day, that just wouldn't be right. Ok, it was night, actually it was a pretty dark night. The reason for that was the big thunderstorm outside (it therefore wasn't dark all the time, but we will have to put up with this, as it adds nicely to the overall atmosphere). The clouds were blocking out the stars and the moon was at its darkest. The the stormwind was pressing the rain against the window. The window was no more than a black hole in the wall, covered with well greased leather, that was bulging into the room. The room itself was dark, the fire had been banked a long time ago and the cheap grease lamps had been snuffed out a long time ago.
This room made up most of the little hovel Derrick was living in. There was only one other small room, Mavs bedroom and study, off limits to Derrick. Mav had taken him in about 2 years ago, when his mother had died. She had been working in Lord Ulgars castle as a kitchen maid, before she fell in. Mav had been some kind of guard or other there, until he retired around the time his mother died. They moved here to this awful spot at the edge of a swamp (you gotta have a swamp in an adventure) then. Why Mav would burden himself with a lad 6 years old (well he's 8 now of course...) noone could guess, but he did. Maybe he had mercy with the young orphan, that didn't even know who his father was. Maybe he should be glad to have been away from the castle, where the children teased him with the rumours of his beget. Some said, his mother had had an affair with one of the nobles, others said, she'd been raped... those were the nicer ones. There were also those who said his mother'd been whoring around, and in fact, that was what she was still doing. He hated that with a vengeance.
Derrick got up and grabbed his cloak, it wasn't a fancy one, but good quality (not that you could make that out now, it's still dark, and the bit of lightning, dimmed by the leather skin... really it isn't enough). Anyway he put on the coat and carefully opened the door. He was on his way outside to close the shutter of the window, before the wind blew the leather in. The storm was getting worse, thunder was well thundering, and at the precise moment, when he opened the door, a tree some 100 yards away was struck by lightning and burst into flame. It wasn't the only tree burning it looked more, like the lightning had done some target practising, but of course that couldn't be. After all, lightning is just a natural phenomenom, that strikes statistically, or is it? Well we might come bak to this later on. For now, all that's been on Derricks mind was to get the wooden shutters closed, though he was impressed by the burning trees. He braved the storm and went outside barefooted and closed the shutters, then he went back in, shook out the coat and placed it over a chair to dry. Then he went to his bed, well straw pallet on the floor and blanket, in the hopes to get some sleep