Library: The Singing Sword

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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Library: The Singing Sword