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A Bard's Story
Posted: 19 Dec 2005 11:10 PM |
//contains some violence and gore//
A dark blue, black bound book - a young bardess took in hand while sitting on a hill overlooking the sea. She peered at it for a great length of time before with a quiet nod opened it to the first clear page and picked up her quill. She with a pause and deep breath presses the quill to the paper and begins to write in a scholar’s hand.
~Page 1~
Prelude
To whom it may concern, I write this with great reluctance. It is not often that I write of a tale before I have seen the ending, but in the passing weeks I have learned that life can be short when someone so outgoing as me wants to see the world and all of its wonders. So I write this so that when I am gone, my story can be heard.
~Page 2~
A bardess’s beginning.
I will start short. I was always a simple girl looking for excitement, what pleased me, what made me happy. From an early age, since my mother shown me my first book I was always fascinated by writing. It was well, my own sort of ecstacy. It did me no greater joy then to have my nose in a book, to the point that I would often spend days inside my run-down house’s “library” reading anything from “Why was the Sky Blue?” to “The Physics and Irregularities of a Proper Fireball”.
It did me so much joy until one day. It was raining in the port as it usually did with a wind sweeping in from the waters. I had been talking to one of my only friends just near Omiga’s jewelers and decided it was time to go home because it was getting dark and I was only eighteen and some fo the sailors already were staring at me - I hated it so much.
*brief pauses can be noted in the ink judging from how it dried in the following four paragraphs*
I said my goodbyes and smiles with a wave before I left to go home, but the place was strangely quiet. I looked around by my mum was nowhere to be seen and a shiver ran down my spine. Something felt so wrong. I searched and searched in the small building where we stayed but then as I was nearing where we stayed I heard a scratching coming from inside the room and against my better judgment I peek inside just as something - someone darted from sight and on the bed I saw another figure laying face up fidgeting, mumbling incoherently.
I approached cautiously, my fears at what I found all seeping into my brain all at once, I was trebling at what I might see. Then it happened, my worst fear came true. My mother had been stabbed in the legs, pelvis, and lower chest. She looked at me with sheer horror as I flinched. I knew whatever it was, whoever it was that did this, they were still here. Then, it went all black.
I felt it a pain that felt like a serrated knife slowly being dragged across my skin. It came so suddenly, a mind numbing pain that pierced into my lower leg as I fell to the ground barely able to move, my sight hidden from me as I could see nothing through the blackness of the darkness. So dark, so cold. I struggled and pulled forcing my body under the bed barely conscious able to hear the final cries and cutting of my mum, I knew I was next, and with the last ounce of my strength I pulled myself under the bed from sight and passed from the world - so I thought.
My eyes began to flutter. I thought I was in the beyond. I felt something close to water - a slow drip, drip, drip - on my face. The pain of my left leg had gone, turned to a numb feel, limp, and lifeless. I tried to scream but my voice brung back only a muffled silence. With what feeble motion I could muster from my frail arms I reached up to wipe my face and open my eyes and to my dismay a realization came to me. I looked to my hand now so covered in crimson I clamored out from beneath the bed as fast as I could and pushed myself against the wall looking up in horror around the room covered with my mum.
I wanted to cry, I wanted to say goodbye, but then I just knew I could not let her die. Her body was gone but as I reached over up and away from my tears to grab the guitar laying against the wall I knew that with my music and her guitar her soul could live on. Its what she would want and someday, someday I may find who did this to my mother and nearly to me. With what voice I could muster I let out a soft melody and touched my leg, the wounds healing. - I always had a gift for healing others. I never knew why, but it was something I was proud of always, my voice. |
JP |
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Re: A Bard's Story
Posted: 20 Dec 2005 12:46 AM |
~page 3-6~
Five years had passed since that day and I spent my days in bliss talking with friends, playing my guitar in the plaza never straying to far from authority, and even occasionally when the rich noble would pass me a gold piece I would even have the honor of going to the café I loved so much.
Once I even saved up fifty gold pieces to buy this one armlet I liked in Omiga’s I was so happy...
*the writings go on an on for a few pages about various things about shopping, clothes, and friends for several pages, enough to bore somebody to death*
~page 7~
One day during my many walks I finally decided to do it. While passing the gates to the slums of Port Royal I looked at the many people as they walked down into the lower portions of town as if it were trivial. Memories flooded back into my mind, but I recalled a familiar song to me now. It lifted my spirits and made all the ghosts go away. I let out a small humming melody, then with a smile, I paraded into the slums just as any other would without a fear in the world.
I met a few men near the herbalists, a total of three of them. One may have been Garick, but it’s all a haze to me now. We talked about small things until a man approached us with a terrible cough. His name I forget but he was the first other in fact that I healed with my gifts. I felt so proud inside that another was helped by me. To see his relieved look on his face brightened my day and with that we began to talk about myself and that was when I introduced myself as Evanna Alimraphen, musician and healer for the first time. It felt nice having a title, it made me feel somehow important in the world.
We all talked for a great length of time until mention of a tale came up. It was always an interest of mine to find that epic tale that would outshine all of the others. It was a fascination that nearly always led me into trouble with the wrong sort. It was just beginning.
We talked of the temple at Nebwood, a frightful place that up until that time I had only heard of it and later that day would goto see the outer walls. But fate it seemed did not want me to go inside and so we left the wood and went our separate ways. I myself decided to go to the Four Winds to rest and sing tales of what I have seen and heard.
There is where I met Jack. A kind man with a since of adventure, something I could admire, it near equaled my own if not more. He seemed charmed by my very word as I sang fourth the tale of the thugs of the Lynaseum to him and anyone else listening.
He offered me a great deal of gold coins for the tale and who was I to refuse. I loved gold and I couldn’t deny it, who didn’t. I took the many coins putting them into a pouch and he then extended to me another offer, this time more valuable then the last. An offer to see the world. I was overjoyed at this and quickly agreed not knowing if it would be a strength or a downfall, but I was keen on any story I might find so I went along with his request.
~Page 8~
We traveled into the Port to gather supplies and others who may wish to see the temple of Nebwood with us as well. It was a place that felt “wrong” almost the same as when...
*the writing slurs then picks up again at a normal pace*
We found three others all but Garick is who I could remember. I didn’t know it then, but he would prove to be trouble in my life, a bane in his own way. The five of us sat out for the temple that laid in the corrupt woods. The roads were quiet and the forest quieter, only a few small pixies flew at us, but were easily dispatched by Jack’s superior swordsmanship.
I stepped to the temple doors and boldly entered letting out a quiet melody to raise my spirits so that I would not be afraid in the times to come. Just as we stepped into the first hall nearly gaging in disgust at the bodies piked nearly six fully armored deathly knights sprang from the shattered bones on the floor and lunged at us only to be felled by Jack, but not without tiring the man.
We took a brief rest and I sang a song quietly to heighten the spirits of the group so that they may venture on with greater morale and to my surprise it had worked. Jack with renewed strength stood without a slouch and marched on deeper into the vile temple. Deep down I couldn’t help but feel a pity for what we were doing. They weren’t human, and caused nothing but pain, however we were breaking into their household and harming what work they fought so hard for. It would have been near the same if someone stopped me from writing my tale. But I cut off the thought and proceeded fourth keeping quiet watching them fell beast after beast, abomination after abomination.
Shortly before I had went to the temple a young halfling woman told me of a creature, a high priest to the god of whom the temple belonged. He laid on the lower levels from what I gathered and it seemed that we would meet him for after the final ghoul rushed us and fell to Jack’s blade we saw the stairs leading deeper within the unholy walls.
As we descended to the bottom of the stairs, the air held a stench of death and decay, but something else stood out. Something - we didn’t know what - knew we were there. It felt so obvious in a foreboding since of danger sort of way. From the opposite end of the room large shambling creatures neigh a house in height stumbled across a low drawn bridge at us and in the darkness behind loomed a shape of horror - the high priest himself.
Jack and the others flew into battle against the priest and his minions as I as always stood back from the fray to watch the events unfold. Blood lined the dark gods floors with all but my own. My companions nearly felled, they decided it was time to leave. The battle was won in our favor but it was not over. We ascended the in an orderly fashion tired and wounded, leaving a fresh trail of blood from many dripping wounds behind that seemed to only strengthen the dark gods power in the temple.
~page 9~
Chanting filled the air from an unknown source echoing off the corridors of the temple ringing in our ears. The air began to hold a new malevolence of its own, and then the darkness began to gather. Screams and shrieks ran out from the blackened room and I could do nothing but run, the memories and nostalgia came back as I fled into the nearest corridor leaving my companions behind only to trip and fall. I scampered back against the wall frozen in fear as the chanting seemed to get ever nearer, ever louder. Then it all faded away, I fainted.
It was a few days after the event of the temple I awoke in the plaza of Port Royal. I had nearly forgotten what had happened, how I was taken to the temple, and how Jack forfeited so much to aid those who fell, even if I hadn’t. I recalled the events in a rush of emotions. It happened in a chance meeting with a man who called himself “Wolf”. A strange man I met after traveling to the Four Winds.
We and another Bardess talked for a time before following Wolf’s hunch on sensing an evil presence in the direction of Carfax - a place I hadn’t been to, but had wished to see it for myself ever since my encounter with the thugs in the Lynaseum. It did seem he was correct in his thinking. The spirits in the cursed town seemed to have been amassing and some even lashed out beyond their prison nearly killing the other bardess quickly but fortunately they were felled by the ranger’s - guardians of the roads - quick arrows.
We turned our sights back to Carfax and decided upon a brief inspection of its grounds and proceeded inside to find large weapons floating about possessed by vengeful spirits and were forced to turn back as quickly as we had gone. Later I would return once more but again it would be brief but with others and again we were turned back.
I then left after my short brush with death having made a new friend of one of the rangers, and decided that I needed a break. At the pace I was going I needed to slow down, especially after my excursion into the sewers. I headed to the nearest bar or tavern which happened to be the Crossed Cutlasses and settled down into a chair where I spent the next several nights and days reading and drinking my time away with myself.
Much to my surprise once I finally emerged from the run down tavern I decided to do a spot of shopping at the Guyver’s shop where a surprise laid in wait. Zigzig was always good for conversation to even if he was a little slow. I didn’t mind at all so I packed my stuff up, left a sizeable tip, and left out the door.
I walked into the shop as I did any other day and bid my greetings but Zig apparently had something for me. We exchanged words and despite my best efforts the orcish man couldn’t seem to remember who it was or what the person looked like that dropped the box off for me, but it did seem that someone took notice of my presence in Carfax even if I didn’t notice them. The thought of a stalker scares me, I could have been that robed man in yellow, but maybe not. I don’t know. Casually with great care I opened the box with a slight chuckle hearing Zig’s warning not to scream after seeing what was inside.
A harp carved of bone with strange strings. My eyes widened and I was unsure of what to do with such a thing, but I was also overjoyed. What a device this was, it seemed so old, and yet held an aura of magic around it. I quickly closed the box and thanked Zig for delivering it for me and concluded my business to inspect the harp at closer lengths and to maybe if I’m lucky find a room to stay. |
JP |
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Re: A Bard's Story
Posted: 21 Dec 2005 02:22 AM |
~Page 10~
A voice, a whisper, the song of adventure.
Today started out innocent enough. I awoke along the edge of the wall in the Port Plaza, a stray dog licking my nose. I sat up quickly and dusted myself off smiling to the people walking by as they stared at the strange lady in blue and black. I didn’t mind, I never did. I always liked my life, it was simple but it had its moments. Sometimes I just wanted to watch others all day, even if it sounds silly, its really fun to do.
So I gathered my things - even my chain shirt - strewn on the ground near me and went to have a look around. Chain seemed like a good choice. It easily fit over my clothes and maybe someday after I get used to the feel I’ll be able to afford that lighter weight set I’ve been eyeing. At least I won’t have a fear of being mauled by a cat anymore. But maybe I would see someone I knew that would want to do something. I still hadn’t found a place to stay, it was a little depressing, but I would someday, yeah.
I walked down the coastline towards Buckshire glancing up the hill I loved to sit on, remembering my talk with Radra. I wanted to try it then, the harp. It looked so curious and neat in its own way and so old. I couldn’t help but want to play it, but she didn’t want to hear it that day, I couldn’t blame her. What if it sounded bad? That is when I almost ran into the ox near Jusin. How was it that people could actually ride with those let alone horses? It just never appealed to me I guess, but when I looked up I saw Marrya and another man talking just outside of Doc’s near the fence.
I don’t really remember what the conversation was about, it didn’t really interest me to much I guess, or maybe my mind was elsewhere. It seems to be happening a lot more lately anyway. I find it drifting to the tomb in Nebwood or the sewers below the Port. The occurrences in both places were so similar and it just chilled my bones. Maybe that was it, yeah.
So eventually I found my thoughts back to the harp. I wanted to play it but I was so frightened that it might bad. If I played bad in public my reputation might be ruined then noone would come to hear me play, and I didn’t want that. But despite my pleadings Marrya agreed to listen but against the wall of Doc’s so I agreed. It was something at least and the guards didn’t seem overly interested in it nor did they know me as well as people in the Port might.
I took the harp from the magic pouch on my waist and positioned it just smiling and going along with Marrya’s commentary and others that began to congregate near. It took a good five minutes maybe to get situated but when I did it felt so nice, much different then the guitar I was used to. I closed my eyes and began to play a more morbid song that seemed right for how the harp looked, surprised and yet not at how well I played. I did in fact read up on the harp and how it played so it wasn’t really a big shock that I played it as well as I did.
The grass around my legs began to feel strange as it seemed to droop and the comments from the crowd seemed more or less something of shock and wonder rather then applause. Then I was told about what laid at my feet. The grass seemed withered and dead as if someone didn’t water it or that it just died right on the spot. It was more-so strange that it seemed only near me, but I thought maybe it was the gnome in the crowd that was nearby just as I started playing. Marrya mentioned that it was probably the harp but I blew it off to coincidence, I was wrong, but in the end I guess I’m glad I was.
~Page 11~
I stood there a moment looking at the withered grass but I held strong and looked to the others facing the direction Jusin was looking at them all, the most notable, a half-orc that seemed to find my mere presence unnerving. With a nod and smile I reached for my harp and began to play again closing my eyes. The natural world around me itself seemed to stir with my music, the air, the skies, the plants, it all seemed to react, but it felt so right, the music called me to play, I wanted to so bad, and then as I came to an ending of my song the half-orc man hit me in the face with a small burst of hot heat knocking me off balance and to my back.
It was a shock but the harp was undamaged and I unscathed, so I stood back up at watched as the man screamed at me in elvish. I wanted to learn it so much, I couldn’t stand it when someone would speak in elvish with others or even at me and I not understand a word of it. I want a story but how will I ever find that tale that other bards sing about if I can’t even understand the words of others in the world.
But as I stood there I heard a noise, the half-orc faded from view and my mind was elsewhere as if listening to another, someone standing just behind me but I glance back and noone is there. The whispers they came so abruptly and spoke in my ear. It was hard to understand at first but I slowly felt myself drifting off into the sound. My fingers twitched and lowered themselves to the harp as if they had an intelligence all their own, my eyes slowly closed, and my thoughts drifted off into the requiem of the “Natures Dirge”.
In the distance I heard the most beautiful song, it was so sad but warming. The rolling thunder drifted against the weeping skies as the grass below let out its cries, I could feel it, it was as if nature itself was calling to me. My body began to sway with an alien movement but I knew this feeling. It was as if I was a little girl again reading my books. For a brief moment I felt a sensation of joy unlike any other. And then it stopped, nothing, the skies ceased its trembling, the grass around stopped responding, and the wind calmed down to a gentle breeze. All was still as if nothing had happened. I was still a bit hazy by the time that happened unaware of really what was happening around me. So I went inside, to get a drink of wine.
I sat down into a chair at the table all the others began pouring into. Most of them talked about common things but I wasn’t with them and missed most of what they were talking about. A Solus was mentioned something about a necromancer - what ever that was. A murder and even someone offering to be my bodyguard? It was all a haze, in the back of my mind I could feel something pulling at me. I couldn’t seem to take my mind off the harp. What was it trying to tell me? I didn’t know, I couldn’t know, but someday, maybe someday. As I fought to try to get a hold of my wandering mind I could feel my hands creeping ever closer to the bag that now held my harp again. Sampson, a halfling from the looks of it, asked me what I was doing and I thought nothing of it thinking maybe I sat in an odd position and repositioned myself.
Strangely minutes after when their attention was diverted from me I could feel the harp once again. Oh the touch, it feels so nice, and the songs, so many songs left unsung. It called out for me to play, and I had to oblige. What choice do I have but to play. A name rang in my mind as clear as day, I knew where I had to go. A place far away, from the rumors yielded, but somehow I had to go. By boat, even if I loathed them, but that would be a last resort, I could make it by land I’m sure of it, I think. Maybe tomorrow I’ll put up a post in Buckshire and ask for a guide. Yeah a guide might be just what I need. But for now I should probably go ask if any openings have arisen in the Broken Mask, a nice place that. |
JP |
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Re: A Bard's Story
Posted: 24 Dec 2005 04:15 AM |
~Page 12~
Today was an exciting day. I am finally in Ferein, although it is a great place I think its to green I guess I would say. I don't mean that green isn't a bad color, oh no. Its just well - ok a perfect example. I was walking down the path and into the center of the city and as I'm walking down one of the many bridges low and behold is a massive stone obstructing my path. I look up and there is a ten foot tall green candle in the middle of the bridge. I admire the elves enthusiasm but you can have a nice color but you can have to much of a nice color, sheesh.
Anyway, so I met a knight on my way here. It was after nearly everyone who came with me left. I think his name was Murphy, but I didn't really pay attention. His armor was just so wonderful and it was even battle worthy! He looked similar to one of those princes you see in the old fables and tall tales. But he was with the Aristi - a name I will have to learn more about, surely.
I almost forgot about Lucius. I met him again today, he was the sole man responsible for helping me to Ferein, bless his soul. Despite his creepiness and carelessness he means well, so I can't really blame him. Even if he did almost make an elven stew from Cay and rice today with a mis-aimed fireball. It might have been good for Cay's hair though. That man could use a new style, but who am I to judge really.
Other then that I haven’t seen anything to interesting here so far. There was that strange woman in the market, but the world is full of them. In the deep forests to apparently. So here I sit in the Falling Stars Inn sipping my wine and pondering what spot might be best to see next. I think I may go see the dock yard actually. I would be curious to see how human and elven societies may differ. But maybe after a good nights rest - in this chair. |
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