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Hi,

This is Ken Kofman, sending out yet another _As The Wheel Turns_
posting.  I suppose I should put some sort of copyright notice
on this, so here goes:

Copyright, Ken Kofman (c) 1994.  All rights reserved except for
those that Tor and Robert Jordan deserve, and except that anyone
who wants to copy this material may do so, so long it remains
unaltered, including this notice, and so long as no fees of
any kind are charged for its use.

In other words, enjoy it, show it to all your friends, be inspired
to run your own game, but since I'm not making any money off of
this, you shouldn't either.

I hope I did that right.

Anyway,

KenK		ken@ictv.com

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Hi,

I was asked about the origin of that most ancient
song of the Sea Folk, "99 Bottles of Beer on the
Wall."  The following legend is well known amongst
the Atha'an Miere.  Other peoples do not know the
legend, but the song is universal.  It is said
that even the Trollocs sing it, though their 
version is in the Dark Tongue and they have altered
the words to fit both their culinary tastes and
their tendency to have a hard time with numbers
greater than ten.


Hi,

Thanks for the thought, regarding the reason
behind the traditional song.  Unfortunately,
I had already come up with a reason, which I
shall share with you.

The song was written about 2,200 years ago by
a man of the Atha'an Miere who protested the
loss of 99 of the best Atha'an Miere every ten
years, sacrificed to uphold a prophecy that
no one understood.  This was the song that he
wrote in protest, and he did go from ship to
ship, and he did sail from port to port.  And
in every bar or tavern that the Sea Folk would
drink did he sing this song.  And the people
stopped, and they listened, and they drank with
him, one bottle of beer for each number, starting
with 99.

At first, the poet could hold only ten or twenty
bottles of beer, which is a bit below average for
the seagoing Atha'an Miere.  Indeed, part of the
song, part of the protest was the drinking of beer.
For although 99 people seems like a paltry number,
insignificant compared to the many Atha'an Miere,
the number assumes a greater, more personal
significance when you are drinking a bottle of beer
for each man and woman sent to certain, terrible
death.  Even the hardiest sea tar could not hold
more than thirty beers.  More than that, he 
implicitly compared their needless deaths to the
trivial downing of a beer.

And so the custom grew, encouraged by bartenders and
innkeepers who noticed how their custom increased
when all the Atha'an Miere tried to drink 99 bottles
of beer while singing.  And the poet, whose name
has been lost to history, but has at times been called
Baethe Wa'hiesre, though others say Hai Nakin, he
did increase his tolerance for beer.

Then, he and his many supporters, for his cause had
become well known amongst the Sea Folk did protest
before the Fleetmasters, in the time when they did
announce the 99 honored chosen.  And the Fleetmasters
did remonstrate with the assembled multititude, but
for every argument brought forth, the poet did have
a rejoinder, until finally the Fleetmasters were
silent, though still they believed in the necessity.

Silence held sway for many a minute.  Only the crashing
waves upon distant rocks and the cries of seagulls could
be heard amidst the creakings of ships and their tackle
rising and falling.  Until one Fleetmaster broke the
silence by challenging the poet, not to a duel of weapons,
for matters had long gone past that, but to a duel using
the poets own creation.  He said that those chosen for
this decade should stand down, and let the Weave of the
Pattern itself decide the outcome.  Let every one of
that vast multitude swear by the Light and his hope of
rebirth, by sea and by sky, to join and sing "Ninety-
Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall" together, and drink
a bottle of beer 99 times, until the song is over, or
until consciousness leaves.  And let the true nature
of things be known in this implied contest.

Now, the Sea Folk are no more superstitious than other
people.  But if they have a weakness, it is that they
enjoy contests, especially drinking contests.  And this
was a drinking contest to make all others mere games for
children.  With great enthusiasm did the people endorse
this choice, and the poet was pleased, for he knew that
none could complete the song, for the amount of beer was
too much for any woman or man, and that with all the Sea
Folk unconscious, the truth of his message would be manifest.

And so it was that all the people there did swear as one.
Many of the Atha'an Miere were there on that day, but many
were not.  For the Atha'an Miere are a wandering people,
who know no fixed location but sail wheresoever they will.
Still, the multitude was vast.  And the amount of beer
consumed that day was enough to float a fleet of ships,
or so it is said.

But when the singing stopped, the number had reached zero
bottles of beer on the wall.  And the multitude was silent,
for they were unconscious, save for a small few, staggering
about, and the poet, he too was amongst them.  Then did the
remaining people come together, and the poet did count them.
Ninety-nine standing Atha'an Miere did he count, and the
poet knew that though his cause was just, the Wheel that wove
the Pattern could not be denied, and so did he accept his
doom.  It is said that the Fleetmaster who proposed this great
contest also was numbered among those remaining.  And the
people did mourn, for their collective hangover was great.

Yowsas!  That was much longer than I expected it to be.

Anyway,

KenK