Just What Are... Tales?

For centuries, humans have told tales for reasons innumerable.

A most obvious reason is to entertain; bringing occasionally exotic pleasures and pains safely.

“Where is it?!”

“How should I know…? You're the guy with the map.”

“Well the map ain’t accurate!”

“Well you should take that up… With the people who WROTE IT.”

“Well they're DEAD!”

“WELL. I. CAN’T. DO. ANYTHING. ABOUT. THAT.”

“...Sorry.”

A no less relevant reason is to teach; bringing higher understanding in a lower, digestible form.

“Ok… if the map isn't accurate, we have to orient it first. Maybe then we can at least figure out what’s wrong with it and can make some progress?”

“How do you orient a map?”

“... Why did I let you have the map again?”

“Cause it’s mine?”

“Right… Well give it here.”

“Why should I?!”

“If you can’t orient it, how are we supposed to find the gate? In fact, how are we supposed to leave? I don’t wish to die in some cave.”

“Well that's… I mean…”

“Look, just hand it over will you?”

“Fine.”

“Don’t get snippy over your own screw up… Ok, so to orient the map, first we must get out our compass…”

“I don’t have one.”

“Obviously. But I do, so what I’m gonna do is reorient the map so that north on the map is north on the compass.”

“But the map doesn’t have a compass rose?”

“That's fine, older maps usually don’t. First let's get back to… where was the last place the map matched up to the actual cave?”

“Umm, back at the three miniature pyramids.”

“And before that it was completely accurate?”

“Pretty much…?”

“That does not inspire confidence… Well whatever, here we are. Now from the entrance here as our center, I can see that the pyramids are… to the west… meaning north on the map is… here. Ok, let's retrace our steps.”

“How will that help? All you did was draw compass points on the map?”

“We have to see, now whenever we need to make a turn I’ll reorient with the map…. Which makes us turn a bit more than when we went through the opening… say, that wasn’t the entrance we went through before, was it?”

“No… no it wasn’t”

“Maybe this opening was made after the map was made? It’s quite a bit smaller and darker so I guess it’s not surprising we missed it… Well whatever the case, I’ll mark this false path on the map as well, just to be safe.”

A derivative reason is to remember; bringing those most fragile snippets of society to the future.

“What do you think those pyramids were made for anyway? They certainly don’t look natural.”

“I assumed they were an altar or something? Why do all historical sites seem to be religious anyway?”

“Well part of the reason is most certainly bias, we associate the ancient with myths and mysticism, so when we see historical sites we associate them with those sorts of tales almost by instinct. Leading to archeologists labeling what could be castles or tools as religious simply on the basis of not knowing what else they could be. Other than that religiously significant sites tended to be places where many different people gathered on and off again for long periods of time, so they did have to be made tougher than the average hut.”

“Well that's a bit boring, I was expecting something creepy like a curse or cool like ancient cults.”

“Unfortunately ancient stuff tends to be rather mundane, I mean when you hear something like ‘rosetta stone’ you’d think it must be cool right? But what is it in reality? Party invitation made by one of the most inbred families in history.”

“They got us Cleopatra.”

“I’m shocked you know that.”

“I’ve listened to enough of your rants to pick up on a fact or two.”

“It’s called a treatise. And I didn’t think I did it so often.”

“Ya do… and aren’t treatise’s written?”

“Well, it comes from the old French word meaning ‘to set forth in speech or writing’... according to that old guy I met last week.”

“Between the two of us, are we sure you’re the intellectual?”

“Ok wise guy, if you’re so smart, which Cleopatra were you referencing?”

“Uhhh… I plead the fifth?”

“No, that was her mother. Close though.”

“Huh- I mean, yeah. I’m always getting those two mixed up!”

“Jokes aside-”

“DARN!”

“Do you even know what pleading the fifth actually means?”

“Uhhh… the right to remain silent, correct? As in, the man can’t force me to say things to get a conviction?”

“Not really, it’s more like the right to not speak when the statement could be self incriminating. So if you witnessed a crime but your testimony could get you in trouble for whatever reason, you have the right to not testify… I think.”

A conniving reason is to convince; bringing consensus through slogans and propaganda.

“Well whatever, being allowed to choose whether you can speak or not seems pretty minor. Doubt the pigs would care in the interrogation room.”

“Well maybe some of the ‘pigs’ wouldn’t care, but some might, and someone outside certainly does. That is a tool that we nobodies have at our disposal. It is our right.”

“Intellectual my foot, you're just an idealist.”

“Better that than a nihilist."

“Feh, a nihilist at least spouts garbage that won’t disappoint you when reality sets in!”

“Heh, I suppose if anything the ‘garbage’ they spout leaves you happier after reality's fateful strike.”

“Yeah! Now you're getting it! It’s the same reason I take a cold shower instead of a warm one! Once I get out it FEELS much better.”

“Though if anything, I’m usually depressed by nihilists, even when I see reason to believe them foolish and surface level.”

“That’s cause you're an idealist, you get all depressed when you see other folks depressed or talking about how you should be depressed.”

“Well to be fair, nihilist philosophy isn’t based on the idea that people ‘should be depressed’. It is more accurate to describe it as a philosophy celebrating ‘meaninglessness’.”

“So the meaning of nihilism is that things are meaningless?”

“Now you're just being purposefully obtuse, you know what I meant. That idea that life has never had, and never will, have meaning in any particular way.”

“And that’s NOT supposed to be depressing?”

“I think the idea is that we make our own meaning, though personally I never quite understood the lemming like confidence in their beliefs, I mean if you think about it they have just as much proof that life is meaningless as there is proof that life has meaning. Life is nothing if not a maze with no clear exit.”

“What is death in your analogy?”

“Ah cripes I forgot about that… uhhh, I suppose death would be the equivalent of being lifted out of the maze? I’d say we’re finally shown the exit and the true meaning after all our searching, but nihilists would probably say we’re simply thrown out to nothingness. Which do you think?”

“Hmmm, I’m really not sure which I believe… a cowardly cop out of ‘I don’t know’ is all I got for now.”

All told, it is a generational habit of ours, perhaps our oldest. With each generation teaching the next both their tales and their methods. As these tales and methods are told and retold, the aforementioned reasons for tale spinning are forgotten, or twisted.

“A cop out huh? That’s certainly one way to think of it.”

“Give me some credit here! I found the MAP! I think I got the right to be a bit lazy on matters of philosophy.”

“True enough, but be that as it may, we don’t even fully know if treasure is still THERE. Most of these old maps have that problem, just cause we’re the first people to decode the map in centuries, doesn't mean we’re the first to find its secrets.”

“My dear old pops-”

“The drunkard?”

“...The very same! Anyway he was a decently high rank in the old ORDER of RECLAMATION. He tried convincing said ORDER to do something similar to what we’re doing, but was shot down and fired for his troubles.”

“That was roughly when their money troubles first arose?”

“First? HA! I was there since BIRTH. Believe me you, they were already on the decline waaaay before then, it just got harder to hide is all. Got worse when news of their disagreement leaked.”

“Oh right… I heard about that little embarrassment, they couldn’t find some treasure they themselves hid right?”

“Well that was ONE reason, but it was a pretty important one. They needed to ensure their old nemesis, the CULT of ANNIHILATION couldn’t get their hands on it first. So they made not only hundreds of fake maps, but encoded each of said maps to make finding it as difficult as possible… Unfortunately they never quite figured out how to pass down a method of finding which map was the right one or even how to decode ANY of ‘em.”

“It was quite difficult to figure out, if it weren’t for modern methods of data management and forensics I would have never decoded it, at least not as quickly.”

“Figured, good thing I figured out which one was real!”

“How DID you do that?”

“I ordered the maps from most fancy looking to least, I then subdivided the maps from least complex code to most complex. Once that was done I took a look at the maps roughly in the middle of both groups and took the one that appeared the least damaged and most… how do you say… permanent looking? Most durable? What are you looking at?”

“You seriously aren’t even sure the map is real?!”

“Well you decoded it right? And it’s clearly accurate enough to get us through this cave.”

“But that’s- GAH! Whatever, worst comes to worst we find nothing at the end of this. Why didn’t you tell me this before…?”

“Well I figured you might be against this is all… it’s uuhhh, a dangerous risk going through a deep dark cave like this, maybe the ORDER left traps?”

“You’ve stopped making sense, I’ve gone with you to the submerged isles! Why would some dusty old cave be any different?”

“Well… ah…”

“Come on, at this point I’m in too deep, and that only becomes more true with each step, may as well tell me what I’m in for.”

“Oh gosh… well… uhhh…”

“OUT WITH IT!”

“Fine, fine! Don’t say I didn’t warn you… this place… may or may not contain… that.”

“That…?”

“The thing my father’s old job was BASED around fighting!

A tale meant to entertain, may become the last known memory of a long dead society. A tale meant to remember, may become a rallying cry for some group to justify one cause or another. A tale meant to convince, may become a cautionary tale due to some unforeseen context. A tale meant to teach, may find its lessons sanded down as it mutates into a child's nursery rhyme.

The reasons are forgotten, yet the tales and the inspiration they bring with them are not.

“So…?”

“SO?!”

“I mean it was sealed right? Why are we looking for it?”

“Well- I mean- It’s the-! Why aren’t you scared?!”

“I dunno? It’s not like I’ve seen them in anything past picture books? And all I’ve heard about them them how it was eventually beaten.”

“Jeez… I grew up with stories of the thing giving me nightmares, and here you are with a nice relaxing childhood.”

“Don’t blame me for your parents being quackjobs.”

“Hey hey hey- My mother was a saint, I think!”

“And your father?”

“Well that’s just not fair.”

“Yeah yeah fine, I’m sorry ok? But seriously why are we here looking for it? And once more I have to ask, why didn’t you TELL me said reason earlier or NOW?”

“Ah- Well I thought you would get mad and stop me.”

“I just might do that NOW if you don’t tell me WHY I might have done it then.”

“Well it’s because of… this.”

“A flash camera.”

“We’re gonna take some pictures of it… and sell ‘em for a fortune!”

This inspiration can lead to something known as ‘tropes’. Tropes are tools of taletellers which have a variety of uses. For example shorthand, if an audience is already familiar with a trope, then a complex idea does not require explicit or obtuse explanation.

“I dunno, I mean if paintings can’t take flash photography, can ancient magical bindings take it?”

“Come on?! There’s no danger of freeing it, tons of potential cash! This can’t fail!”

But as tropes see repeated use, they can become tiresome to audiences, so at times they may find themselves subverted simply for the sake of shaking things up.

“Aren’t you scared of it? Shouldn’t you be the one cautious about messing with it?”

“Yeah, that’s precisely why I’m doing this! To face my fears!”

“Theres a big difference between facing your fears and doing something braindead.”

But regardless, maligned as they may be by some, tropes remain a useful tool. They are easily repeated and have a proven track record of eliciting certain emotions or bringing across certain ideas. Many taletelling ideas we celebrate are tropes; Two lovers ending a tale with a kiss; A dramatic death to signal a dramatic shift in tone; Revealing a characters backstory long past the tales true opening; A great and terrible monster terrorizing the land. We use them because they work (or once worked in some cases) well when used properly.

“Oh look! Look my friend- There it is! I was right, I was right!”

“Yeah I suppose you were… are you crying? Come on man, get a hold of yourself! I’m sure it won’t be woken up!”

“Huh…? Oh no, it ain’t that… I just… well I guess I’m just happy I really was right you know?”

“I didn’t think you were the sort to take such insults to heart.”

“I don’t really! It was less the insults and more my own thoughts I guess.”

“But I presume the insults did not help matters?”

“Who knows…”

“Who knows indeed. Regardless, how are we doing this? I trust your confidence, but I wish to reduce risk as much as possible!”

“Don’t worry, don't worry! I’m just taking a photo of the gate and surrounding area for now, after that I’m bringing the photos to experts as proof of our discovery! Once that's done… I dunno for sure, we’ll probably bring one or two of them with us, then after they check up on things we can take our photos and get rich!”

“Fair enough, you’ve certainly thought this out thoroughly… Why did you think I would stop you?”

“Well I mean, haven’t you seen movies? You know how this usually goes! Odds are we would be killed in the opening minutes to establish how scary it is!”

“This is no movie, you think inward too often and assume all share the same fears as yourself.”

“And you assume you have nothing in common with the common man's common fears.”

“Hmph.”

“Oh don’t get snippy now! I’ll have you know you’d be the first to go in a bad horror flick!”

“I’m not too familiar with the crummy horror genre… but wouldn’t you be the second?”

“No no no my friend! I would most certainly be the protagonist!”

“How, pray tell, are you so sure?”

These tropes, some of which have permeated tale spinning for millennia, are the backbone of tales. The tales they spawned from are often forgotten, alongside the original reasons they were used, but regardless we continue to use them, celebrate them, and at times mock them when it catches our fancy. Yes, many of these ‘founding tales’ have been all but forgotten, or become so permeated into culture they become natural and unassuming. This tale is about the latter, and is perhaps being made to ensure it does not become the former. For these tales of ours, they have teeth. They grow, they change with time. They are not alive like you or I, but they do live. As such, while it was likely not the first, and certainly not the last, I only feel it right to pay some reverence to an old tale, perhaps one of the oldest.

“Well it’s very… has that crack always been there?”

“Yeah… why…?”

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“What was that?”

“I don’t-”

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“Uhoh…”

A tale of adventure and terror, a tale drenched with inspiration and fantasy, the tale spinning equivalent to mount fuji on japanese prints, ever present even when not visible.

“We should run. NOW.”

As my narration transitions from disquisition to description, I begin this tale properly. The Draconic Verse.

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