Library: Bards: The Origin

Let me tell you a tale, my friend. A bardic tale, and a legend. So listen carefully, for you will not regret it. --- A long time ago, when I was still a young aspiring bardling, I had need to travel clear across the world of Bat. It was a long journey, taking many days, and on several occasions I had begun to question my dedication to the path. It was on the evening of one of those days that I, weary from a long day's journey, came upon an inn in a remote corner of the world. The building did not look particularly appealing, but anything was bound to be better than the hard rocks and the wet ground that had served as my lodgings for most of the previous week. I quickened my pace and was soon negotiating with the owner for food, a bed, and some drinks in exchange for providing the evening's entertainment. I was not particularly proud of my performance that evening. In fact, I'd say it was one of my worst - fortunately the poor bumpkins that frequented the establishment had never seen proper entertainment, so towards the end of the evening I sat down to rest and enjoy my meal. As I was finishing the remnants of my supper, a particularly odd looking fellow entered the room. After a quick glance around the room, he quickly headed towards my table, and spoke: "Greetings, fellow traveler. Would you be kind enough to share a drink with a poor old man?" I had no objections, my meal being covered by the establishment, and called out to the bartender, "Good sir, a glass of ale for my friend over here!" Thus we were enjoying the remnants of the night, when the stranger, pointing to the Ankh hanging around my neck, spoke, "that is an item of great power you have there, young one. I trust you know of its tale?" Confused, I replied, "no, I'm afraid I do not. What tale is it that you speak of?" "Ah, then you truly must be new to The Path. Let me tell you the tale of your Ankh, a tale of The Origins." And thus the stranger spoke: "Trials ran through steel and blood, conflicts until death was too imminent among all the folk that walked the BatRealms. At such point only hate, anguish and despair led the whatever little life there still was huddled in the warmth of cold rock. Castles were looted, pillaged and burned down. The walls of Great cities fell and became crumbled ruins. Skies much darker than the blood freely flowing on the streets.. The Dark Ages. The forgotten Time. The Gods' forsaken lands. "In the middle of all the malice there was One. A green clad Wanderer, a seeker of truth and a sellsword in his own name reigned his own path and destiny. One gloomy day, the Gods rewarded him with a Symbol - the ANKH!. It brought hope, light and joy amist all the turmoil and sinister depression. So has it been since, so will it be. Such item you now hold in your very own hands. "You, the Wanderer." When he finished, I could only sit in awe, looking at the simple thing hanging from around my neck. When I finally looked up, the stranger was gone, and not a soul could tell me who he was, where he came from, or when or how he left without a trace. It was not until the following afternon, when I had left the inn far behind that I noticed a faint glow around the Ankh. And when I concentrated on it some more, I could once again hear the Stranger's words, echoing in my head. Thus, reinvigorated, I set out towards my destination, this time welcoming the future adventures of The Path. --- To this day I do not know who was that mysterious Stranger, yet I carry a reminder of his visit with me every day. The Stranger must also get credit for his narrative, for while it was a long time ago, his words still sound perfectly clear through the Ankh, which is my guide in writing down this tale.

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Library: Bards: The Origin