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Library: The Singing Sword

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Author: tarken
Date:Jan 2 2008

     There is a certain occasion that I recall from my youth, it remains quite
vivid in my memory. You see, when I was a lad I hadn't had the most humble of
beginnings. My father had died when I was the age of 10 during a skirmish with
some goblins who attacked him on his trade route. Without my father, my mother
lost all hope and pretty much gave up on life and died a few months later.
Since then I've been on my own....
     I had been walking through the forest one night, traveling from Rjiinnis
to Alfaala in search of work. It was dark outside, very dark despite the light
emanating from the wooden torch I had been carrying. The previous night I had
been attacked by a rogue orc and narrowly managed to escape. While I was in
Rjiinnis, I tracked down the village smith and purchased a gleaming silver
dagger for my defense, which at this point, I was firmly clutching under the
cover of my coat. Several hours into my trip, I noticed light coming from up
ahead. Fearing the worst, I drew my weapon closer, leaving a sweaty impression
of my clenched fist in my chest, and continued slowly onward.
     As I grew close to the light, I came to find out it was not torchlight,
but seemed to be coming from a blade lying in the middle of the road. I feared
it was a trap and immediately leapt to the nearby bushes to stake out the
blade myself and examine it further.
     The blade appeared to be made of a very sturdy metal, difficult to tell
which from afar. It was a rapier with a long, narrow blade. Very oddly, its
hilt was quite small. Tiny as if the sword was crafted for a sprite or a
hobbit. There was something etched into the side of the blade, but I couldn't
tell what it was from my spot. Fearing my safety, I decided to stay hidden and
watch the blade through the night.
     Nobody came. The sun was beginning to rise and I had been sitting behind
this bush for nearly six hours. I decided that it was probably safe and
emerged from my hiding spot and approached the blade. At once, I was able to
recognize the figure on the side of the blade to be a music note. Being a
humble bard myself and a man of music, I became interested. I bent down and
grasped it by the hilt. At that moment, the blade seemed to hum, sending
vibrations up my arm for a moment, then slowly fading away back into silence.
Despite the awkward appearance of the blade's hilt, it seemed to fit quite
perfectly in my hand and was quite balanced. I glanced around nervously and
peered along the path. There wasn't anyone around. I decided I would keep it.
I removed my dagger from its leather tether and cast it aside, leaving my
newfound prize in its place and continued onward.
     When I arrived at the the next town, I sought out further knowledge of
this humming, glowing blade. Nobody could tell me anything about it, even the
village smith who himself was known to be the best smith for miles around. The
townschildren spoke of a tale about a magical battleblade that could sing, but
I cast that idea aside, taking it as a mere children's story. Weary from my
day of inquisitions and a night without sleep, I ate a hearty meal and decided
to stay the night.
     The next morning I set out for the last leg of my trip. Alfaala was the
next town over, a good fifteen miles distance. Like the rest of my trip, the
walk was long and scary. I seldom saw another traveller and there were no
convenient places to stop. The road was narrow and there were stickerbushes on
either side. So I pressed onward briskly, hoping to make it to Alfaala by
nightfall.
I was nearing the end of my trip. I only had about 3 miles to go. Alfaala was
to be my new home, a bustling town full of opportunities and work. My feet
were beginning to ache and I was growing tired. Suddenly, a large orc jumped
into the path from behind a tree, blocking my way. He eyed my sword slightly.
"Thats ar' a 'ery nice blade yer gots thar. Gives its teh me and ye' shall
pass ali'," he grumbled. I was reluctant to give up my new possession. The
same went for my life. Orcs were also known to be untrustworthy so I knew that
I will most likely lose either way. I decided to fight. When I was at the
singing academy, they taught us a set of rather unpleasantly sounding chords
to sing if we were to ever find ourselves in trouble. I took a deep breath,
and sang loudly. It worked at first, they sounded quite horrible. The large
orc held his large, grubby hands to his head to try to keep the sounds from
reaching his ears. Moments later I saw his fist coming right at my face. At
that instant, the sword began to hum loudly. My arm quivered almost
uncontrollably. My voice seemed to amplify louder, incredibly loud, yet I knew
it wasn't my voice. Nevertheless, the orc stopped, mid-swing, and threw his
hands to his ears, which were now spurting blood. He fell to the ground. I
looked at my blade and it was silent. I didn't want to know what happened
next, so I ran. I ran as fast as I could until I reached at my destination.
When I got there, I collapsed in the town square.
     I awoke some several days later in the local inn. The mayor of the town
was waiting at my bedside. "That orc has been bothering us for quite some
time, killing our merchants and crippling our economy. Judging by your
condition, I reckon you had something to do with that. Is that true?" he
spoke. I nodded faintly. The mayor continued "Sir, I would like to thank you
on behalf of Alfaala. I don't suppose you'll be sticking around a while? I
could use a new guard captain..." "No Sir," I replied. "I don't want to fight.
I think I shall sing." The mayor looked quite confused, but nodded solemnly.
"Well, I'll see what I can do." From then on, I performed weekly for the town
in their square earning a decent keep. Singing my tunes and singalongs for
entertainment. I became the man and his singing sword.


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