Library: Bards' Academy

Auditorium, 7:30 am. Amarth tapped the microphone protruding from the mahogany podium, and after blowing into it twice whispered, "Is this thing on?" Deciding it was indeed on, he cleared his throat and spoke. "Good morning, future bards, and welcome to the new Bards' Academy. As some of you may know, in past years bardic training has been very loosely organized, with aspiring songmasters seeking out the more experienced bards wherever they may be in the lands, and learning from each the song for which he or she is famous. As a result of a number of unfortunate incidents, including several young bards being eaten by monsters while searching for songmasters, and the dwindling finances of the Bardic College (not to be confused with this institution, the Bards' Academy), we have decided to attempt training new bards in a more academic manner. Here we have gathered together some of the finest songmasters in the land, who will contribute their wisdom and experience in a classroom setting to you, tomorrow's bards, who have already contributed a small tuition to pay for the facilities and expenses. (Yes, the fee is nonrefundable and please hold all further questions until I'm finished.) I would now like to introduce the faculty. "With great pleasure, I first introduce Gilian, who will be teaching songs associated with the campfire and will also be serving as the school physician." Amarth stepped to the side of the podium as a light haired young man wearing a patchwork cloak stepped to the microphone and smiled warmly at the assembled bards of tomorrow. "Greetings, my friends," said Gilian in a friendly voice. "For all the humanoid races, there has always been great power and emotion in the campfire, the magical flame, which from the start, provided warmth and a bright circle of safety against the night. Companionship, safety, romance, courage...all of these spring from the campfire, and I will teach you how to evoke at least some of them with song." He then smiled at Amarth and stepped to the back of the platform. Amarth stepped back to the microphone and said, "I'd now like to introduce Patricia, who is a true master of the less ... controllable forces of song." Patricia took the mike, giving Amarth a dirty look, and said, "The name is Pat." Turning her attention to the audience, she continued, "I'm really thrilled to be here and I'm sure we're going to have some great times! I just know we'll have wodnerful student-faculty relations and my door will almost always be open. I'm really looking forward to getting to know the student body..." she concluded with a slow grin as she studied the people in the audience. She then tossed the microphone over her shoulder to Amarth and walked to stand beside Gilian, who quickly slid a meter away from her. Amarth smoothly caught the microphone and announced, "And now, please welcome, just from Shadowkeep, the master of martial music, Thor's Axe, Hurundir, creator of the powerful War Ensemble!" The master of martial music, complete in full plate armor, stepped to the podium, nodded once to the assembled students, and walked to stand at the back of the platform, a few feet from Pat. "Thank you for your inspirational speech, Hurundir," said Amarth dryly. "Next we have a man who needs no introduction--the legendary Noitulove!" The hall was suddenly filled with explosive applause as a tall man dressed in black and red walked to the podium. He took the microphone from Amarth and said something that was lost in the din. He paused and tried again, with the same result. He then gave Amarth an amused smile, shrugged resignedly, and walked to the back of the platform, grinning at Pat and tossing her a small wave on the way. Amarth waited for the applause to abate. After a few minutes of waiting in vain, he frowned and signaled for the next instructor to come over. The slim, dark haired elf woman nodded and walked over with a slight smile on her face. She turned to face the madly applauding students and played a quiet, soothing melody which was carried over the hall's sound system. Slowly the hall quieted and everyone raptly watched her with soft smiles on their faces. After a few moments, she finished her song, smiled and nodded to the students, and walked to stand near Hurundir. Amarth smiled to himself for a few moments and then shook his head to clear it. "Ahem," he said. "I would like to thank Sindyl for her demonstration of the calming and enchanting influences of song. I am sure we can all learn a lot from her. And now, I'm very happy to introduce the songmaster of focused destruction, Timillian, who is just recently returned from an extended vacation." Timillian, a slender blond haired human dressed in brown pants and a green shirt, walked over to Amarth with a big smile on his face. Finally, after so many years in exile, he was back in civilization and surrounded by his fellow bards. On top of that, he was going to have the chance to speak to all his peers at once and finally let them know how much he loved them and cared for them. He took the microphone from the guildmaster, and joy written all over his face, opened his mouth to speak to the hall. Unfortunately, at the first touch of his voice, the microphone gave a loud pop and every speaker in the hall blew simultaneously, each shooting brief fountains of sparks into the air. Timillian gave a horrified look, dropped the microphone to the floor, and despondently shuffled to the back of the stage. Amarth rested a comforting hand on Timillian's shoulder and spoke a few quiet words to him before returning to the podium. Projecting his well-trained voice into the hall, he spoke to the audience. "It seems our sound system has unexpectedly shorted out, so we'll have to do without it for the rest of the assembly; I'll make it brief. First, can everybody hear me?" Amarth listened to the chorus of "Yes"es and grinned as he heard a "No!" from the back of the room. "Then how do you know what I said?" he called back. "What?" responded the same voice. Amarth grumbled and a sour expression replaced his grin. After clearing his throat, he continued. "This is Zord, who has developed songs which may counter poisons of all sorts," he said, indicating a rather pale elf with a purplish face. "Next to him is Hassakiel, master of culinary tunes; he will be in charge of meals at the Academy." The culinary master appeared to be a fair haired elf wearing a luxurious kimono. "Over there is Zantus," he continued, indicating a man who seemed almost to be overflowing with inner strength. "And finally, there is Zinbaf, whose tales are long and many," finished Amarth, his eyes glazing over slightly as he mentioned Zinbaf's stories. Zinbaf, who looked like nothing if not a friendly old wizard complete with long white beard and pointy hat, just smiled affably. "Now!" exclaimed Amarth, "breakfast will be served in the dining hall in half an hour, and after that the first day of classes will begin!" As Amarth went to the back of the stage to chat with the other songmasters, the students rose and filed from the hall in a disorderly manner. ***** Dining Hall, 8:30 am. Lagmonster sighed and began to trace patterns on the table with his fingertip. Walin, who was sitting next to him, clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry, breakfast should be ready any minute now. I can't wait to see what Hassakiel made--he's supposed to be great!" "It's not that...It's just that I have a feeling already that I'm not going to get along well with my roommate." "You just got here last night and already you don't like your roommate? Who is he?" "Kiilgore," said Lagmonster with another sigh. "Kiilgore? What's wrong with him? I've known him for a while and he seems like a nice enough fellow." "Oh, I'm sure he is! It's just that he's a ... dabbler." Walin cocked his head and gave his dining companion a puzzled look. "Let me put it this way," continued Lagmonster. "You know how he was in the Crimson Brigade for a time?" Walin nodded. "Well, last night when I was coming into our room, I tripped over his weapon belt and nearly flew out the window! And this morning when I was getting up, I almost brained myself on his navigator sextant he has hanging from his bedpost! I'm terrified I'm going to come in after dinner and find him sacrificing a cow on my bed next!" Walin threw back his head and laughed. "Don't let it get you down; I'm sure you can straighten everything out with a little chat. After all, communication is the hallmark of bards." Suddenly the sound of a triangle being rung echoed through the dining hall. The two bards jumped to their feet and almost ran to get to the serving line before everyone else in the hall. "Come on!" exclaimed Walin, "I want to see what we're getting!" The two bards managed to claim the first two places on line and, mouths watering, proceeded to the spot where the food was being served. Walin peered into the serving dishes and simply gaped. Lagmonster glanced at his friend, confused for a moment, and then quickly looked at the trays of food and the nearby kegs. "Bread and beer???" he exclaimed. "For BREAKFAST????" ***** Dining Hall, 8:50 am. The cluster of novice bards sat at a large round table near the door, exchanging their first impressions of the Academy. "Well, it wouldn't be so bad if we at least had some butter or jam," said one, nudging her barely touched plate of bread. "Or at least milk or something other than beer!" "Will you forget about the bread and beer already?" cried another. "I'm sure it was just a mix-up in the kitchen. What I want to talk about is the songmasters! Do you think we'll get to meet them outside of classes? I can't believe Noitulove himself is here!" "I know! I'd, like, die to find out more about him! He's, like, so powerful and, like, totally mysterious," chimed in a valley elf. At this moment, Pat, who was about to leave the dining hall stopped and slowly grinned to herself. With a quick motion, she slid into an empty seat at the table, startling the novices. "So, you want to know more about Noitulove?" she said, furtively glancing from side to side to make sure no one else was listening in. She motioned the bards close and said in a low voice, "I can tell you a few things about him....." ***** Classroom 2A, 9:00 am. Zinbaf smiled at the bards sitting attentively at their desks and proceded to perch on the edge of his larger desk in the front of the room. "Good morning, my young friends," he said in a warm voice. "I'd like to begin today's class with one of my favorite stories. It was a warm, pleasant summer, maybe three...no four...no, wait; that's a different story entirely. Ah, yes...It was a warm summer, twelve or thirteen years ago...My friend Jonah and I... No, actually, it was Amarth...were going out on a picnic in the afternoon and... Oh, silly me! It wasn't Jonah OR Amarth at all--it was Sindyl! Anyway, Sindyl and I were... Now, what were we doing? Ah, yes... Sindyl and I were going out on a picnic one afternoon... Hmmm, now was that early or late afternoon? No, it couldn't have been late afternoon, because we were rained out that time, so that must have been the week before... So, we were going out on a picnic in the early afternoon that summer and..." Zinbaf looked up at the room full of sleeping bards and stopped. With a slight grin and a twinkle in his eye, he whispered, "And when you can stay awake through one of my stories, you'll be experienced enough to dull anyone's mind with a few choice phrases," and quietly left the room. ***** Classroom 3B, 10:00 am. The young bards sat nervously at their desks, awaiting the arrival of their legendary instructor. Sweat rolled down the back of one's neck. One student coughed, nearly sending the rest into a panic. Finally, the door opened, and Noitulove calmly strode to his desk at the front of the room. "Good morning," he said, "I am Noitulove." Suddenly the room erupted into a flurry of motion as the students dove from their chairs and raced for the door in a blind panic. There were a few shrieks of terror and moans of fear as the crowd bottlenecked at the door, but then all the students managed to escape, leaving Noitulove to stare in bewilderment at the scattered papers and toppled desks. The master bard thought for a few moments and then stormed for the door shouting, "Patricia! I want to have a word with you!" ***** Hallway, 10:50 am. Frederick walked out of the classroom, numbly staring at the twisted spectacle frames still containing a few jagged shards of green glass. "I can't believe it!" he wailed. "These were from the Shadowkeep sewers! I'll never be able to replace them now that the sewers are closed!" Kasi, walking out of the classroom after him shrugged and merely said, "I told you not to wear them to Timillian's class." ***** Classroom 3B, 11:00 am. The young bards sat nervously at their desks, awaiting the arrival of their legendary instructor. Sweat rolled down the back of one's neck. One student coughed, nearly sending the rest into a panic. Finally, the door opened, and Noitulove calmly strode to his desk at the front of the room. "Good morning," he said, "I am Noitulove." Suddenly the room erupted into a flurry of motion as the students dove from their chairs and raced for the door in a blind panic, only to bounce off the chest of a large man with wild hair and a grin on his face who was standing in the doorway. Noitulove continued, unperturbed, "And I'd like you to meet my teaching assistant, Stringbreaker. Now, if you'll kindly return to your seats, we can begin today's lesson." ***** Kitchen, 11:45 am. Hassakiel sighed and searched through his books of food-producing songs; he knew breakfast hadn't gone over well. Dark bread, white bread, adventurer's ally bread, seven grain bread, pumpernickel bread, whole wheat bread...He knew it wouldn't be so bad if he at least had something like almond bread, zucchini bread, lamb-stuffed naan, or even bagel dogs. He'd never realized his songs were so specialized! He sighed again and decided to check his book of beverage-producing songs. Maybe it would be all right if he could make something other than beer. Light ale, dark ale, honey double bock, amber ale... A droplet of sweat slowly worked its way down the culinary bard's forehead as he reached the end of his second book... ***** Dining Hall, 12:15 pm. "I'd even settle for a bagel dog!" exclaimed Badi as he threw down his bread in disgust. He sighed deeply and tried to forget the meal as he took a long pull of his beer; at least that was good. Suddenly he turned to his dining companions and grinned. "Guess what! Pat propositioned me this morning!" he cried. Kiilgore, who was sitting next to him nearly choked on his beer and burst out laughing. "It's true!" protested Badi, but Kiilgore just continued to laugh and started to shake his head. "You're just jealous," accused Badi. Kiilgore clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle further laughter and finally regained control of himself. "Oh, I believe you," he said, and then raised his voice to call to the entire hall, "Hey, how many people here were propositioned by Pat this morning?" Badi gaped in disbelief as a third of the people in the room raised their hands. Kiilgore turned back to his companion and grinned, saying, "So you see, it's no big deal if..." Suddenly he stopped speaking and turned bright red as Pat herself walked past the table. She smirked at the embarrassed bard and then called to the hall, "Enjoy your lunch, everyone. Just so you know, I have tons of Chinese food back at my rooms, and anyone is *welcome* to join me." Then with a wink and a whispered comment in Kiilgore's ear which made him blush even more, she exited the room. ***** Headmaster's office, 2:45 pm. Amarth sat down behind his large mahogany desk and looked at the bard sitting in the chair before him. "Hello, Ryla. Getting an early start on trouble, are we?" he said. "First, I can understand your unhappiness with the dining service so far; personally, I'm not thrilled about the bread and beer, myself. However, that is no excuse for telling Zord that his presence is urgently required at the dining hall. Second, your figurine has been removed from the room of melodies. While I must admit it was a rather flattering likeness of me, I now have to figure out how to deal with this note from Elvanshalee thanking me for listening with such a sympathetic ear last night and asking me if I have any advice on the matter we discussed!" Amarth looked at the note in question for a moment and frowned. "Now, since this IS the first day, I think a warning and confiscation of your figurine is sufficient. Close the door on your way out and please TRY to stay out of trouble for the rest of the day." ***** Hallway, 3:50 pm. Bards flattened themselves against walls as a mob of roaring students charged out of a classroom and ran down the hall to disappear around a corner. Ralin peered into the room the pack had originated from and turned to the bewildered bards still in the hall. "War ensemble," she explained. ***** Kitchen, 6:30 pm. Hassakiel watched the barred door anxiously and waited for a sign of the bards' reaction to dinner. He'd managed to find a few jars of mustard and placed them on the tables, but he wasn't sure if it was enough. As if in answer to his thoughts, the sign came in the form of an angry, bestial roar from the dining hall, immediately followed by loud pounding on the kitchen door. The elven bard steeled himself and sent out a desperate psychic call, asking for immediate help, "Ugly Joe's? I need an emergency delivery to the Bards Academy NOW!" ***** Inn of Four Winds, Common Room, 8:45 pm. Endek smiled contentedly to see all the bards filling the tables in the room. They certainly did seem to be ordering a lot of food; he'd thought meals were included in the Academy tuition... But, no matter; here was an unrivaled chance to start a singalong with a room packed with bards, and even some songmasters! "Hey, everybody!" he cried, "let's have a singalong!!!" And with that, he picked up his lute and began to play and sing. Soon everyone was starting to join in with their own favorite songs and words. "This is a sing-a-long, along, along, along he-hey hey-jeah!" "War is TOTAL massacre, sport the war, war SUPPOORT!!!" "III want to ROAR, III want to SLAM, III want to bash..." "Thar! Rauko! Mor! Ris-Rim! Fuin-Heru! GOR! Gurthgwath!" "Augh!! Get Pat and Noitulove out of here!!!" ***** Infirmary, 8:55 pm. Gilian stood up in shock as the room started to fill with people with various degrees of injury. "What happened?!" he cried. "Fire? Clones? Earthquake?" One of the wounded bards clutched Gilian's shirt at the shoulder and gasped in his ear, "Sing...along..." ***** Student Rooms, 11:00 pm. Pat walked down the hallway in the student quarters, and coming to an open doorway spilling light into the hall, decided to walk in. Inside the room was a young bard sitting at her desk and writing furiously. "Hello there," said Pat, walking up behind her and resting a hand on her shoulder. "You're Ryla, aren't you? I remember you bringing Zord to the dining hall during lunch." Pat grinned and peered over Ryla's shoulder. "What's that you're writing?" "It's my story for the Institute of Entertainment," answered Ryla. Pat peered at the already finished pages on the desk and frowned. "Well, you'll have to end it; the guidelines say one to four pages and you're already on page five." "End it?! But I haven't even established a plot or developed most of the characters!" Pat rapped the young bard on the head and said, "Look, Wordsworth, the reason these things have to be short is because all of us songmasters have to read them, and if I have to read a story any longer than this, I'll go frickin' crazy!!" Pat smiled and brought her other hand to Ryla's other shoulder and continued in a smooth voice, "Now...since you're done with that, maybe we can find--Damn it, you're still writing!!! I swear! If you write one more word, I'll [Note: The text seems to end here -- Hosky] Comments: An interesting idea, but it doesn't really follow a standard story format. I'm not sure we should pass her -- Hassakiel It's not bad, though. And remember, if we don't pass her, she'll be hanging around HERE for gods know HOW long -- Hosky So what if it's not a standard story? If bards can't be unconventional, who can be? I say pass her -- Sindyl [See attached pages] -- Zinbaf I think it's pretty good, but I see what you mean, Hassakiel. What do you think, Pat -- Noitulove She's quite good and really knows what she's doing. I'd give her an A -- Pat I was talking about the story. *smirk* -- Noitulove Oh. It's long, but I say pass her anyway. -- Pat again You idiots! You've been writing on the library copy!! -- Amarth Shadowstring

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Library: Bards' Academy