Emerson Berengar looked at the strange man who came to the Campfire. He was a man of average height, brown hair and hazel eyes. The pockets on his trousers showed that the man was from a distant country. Brother had never seen that before. He looked at the black, flat brimmed hat in admiration. The stranger had good taste.
“All are welcome to the fire, provided they follow the rules. If you are here in the morning, you are required to attend drill. What is your name, friend?
In a soft tenor voice he stated, “Benjamin, sir. It is a pleasure to make your aquaintance. I see familiar faces from Silent Gallows here. It looks like they have done well.”
Brother nodded. “Aye, they have brought their families as well.”
Benjamin, keen of hearing, overheard one of the camp making fun of his voice. ” he sounds like a girl, or a frog, perhaps a girlfrog.”
Benjamin looked in their direction. “Let us not unloose a beast today, I was strangled, and cannot help my voice.”
Rising from his seat, he stepped to the man in a swift, efficient movement. “Here, I’ll show you.” Benjamin grabbed the man’s hand and put it on his neck. There was a deep depression like a thumbprint on his throat.The man recoiled. Ughh. “How do you eat?”
Benjamin chuckled. I suppose I get subsistence by eating predator flesh. I chew it really small. A broad friendly smile flashed across his face.
Emerson Berengar was concerned. He had seen men like this before. Benjamin came across to Brother as a man whose smile could change very quickly into something dangerous.
Benjamin returned to his seat. Friends! I am a traveller, and I will soon be on my way! To all ranks and stations, song, for donations!”
Brother stared at Benjamin. Something was familiar, but he could not place it.
From where he sat, he placed his hat on the ground and began to sing song after song. There was no end to his singing and the Heron tribe began to gather.
In between, Benjamin would spin tales, yarns, and fables. The night grew ever darker and it seemed the sun would be up before long.
Benjamin had somehow managed to gather the attention of nearly the whole town of Northwich for his strange accent and absurd songs and stories.
Finally, he was quiet. In a near whisper, he said, “Friends, this song is for my Beloved.” The Song(fulfills the challenge)
Without saying goodbye, Benjamin took the money in his hat and placed it in a side trouser pocket. He disappeared into the shadows.
Brother sighed. Now that one was a Storyteller.