I have watched for many a year as people of the small, squandering villages gather in the shabby, ale soaked walled and Smokey and cramp atmosphere. I watch in stifled disgust as they bellow loud and sing untuneful songs, as men of all ranks, from the low born and ragged farmer to the clean and cut minor lord slosh their mugs around and the sticky, tan ale spills on their selves and table. Yet, they pay no heed as they are too focus on the serving women as they prance around like deer. Their shoulders shinning with sweat from the heat of the fire in the cobble hearth and their busy work. The wives of these men shoot glares at the serving girls and pitch their voice higher and bat their eyes to grab the attention of their men, and the children rush about on foot, unheeded.

Almost, as it is every night, a bard in their brightly and homespun cloths will drag a cedar stool to the fire and perch on it. This bard tonight, unlike most, was young. He had the youthful glow about him. His face was unmarked, his eyes wide and bright like a green jade as he smiled and looked around at his audience. He did not know the real world this lad. He smelt too new and looked too brash. The occupants of the Inn quieted down and moved ever closer to the young man as he picked up the spun lute and ran his thin fingers across the stings letting lose a sweet sound. And, as always, he began his tale.

I am sure you have heard it. Everyone has. It is said in Inns like this one, to children in their beds at night only to make them curl up at night in fear. It is a very popular tale. But it is the wrong tale.

How can it be wrong, you may ask? Well, it seems impossible to be wrong when you have heard the same thing a thousand times. You know the tale I talk about. The one with the Green witch, the Good witch, of the Red Ruby shoes, of a fallen house, of a young girl, of evil, and a women having no heart. It's all wrong. The facts mixed up. Then again, I suppose with time, it is known to happen.

But here, yes you, over there in the dark corner of the Inn, sit closer and ignore the hearth and let me tell you the real tale….

Please Review so I know if I should continue…