Songs of a pretty excentric bard.

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orangetree
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Songs of a pretty excentric bard.

Post by orangetree »

Who am I?

Nobody... nothing. I live under the shadow of my father. He was a great man. He achieved a great deal in the fields of archaeology, and knew practically everything there was to know about faerun, the races, ancient runes and magics... He is tactful when needed, and made of stern steel when he had to be. In every way, the perfect gentleman... and yes, the perfect father.

My mother on the other hand, was insane.

She was ill most of the time. She heard things that were not there, and sometimes did things that made little to no sense. She spent most of her time in the countryside, though how she survived on her own I will never know. The strangeness she had got worse over time. She kept on saying, she could see the end of magic... and that something terrible was about to happening. She kept on screaming about scars... and blue fires.

I decided my mother needed treatment, by greater sages then could be found in Amn. So I took her, with the intention of travelling to silverymoon.

She became more lucid with me, she always way. Perhaps the sharing of blood gave us a greater connection. In some ways, we are both strange people, eccentric in our own ways but I feared that this was the future I was seeing of myself. Of an elderly woman, who could no longer tell reality from the delusions of her mind.

She whispered something to me, but I was sure I was sleeping. For then the gnolls attacked our caravan, and we were separated.

The guards fortunately took care of the gnolls, but my mother was missing. After searching, she was presumed dead... killed by the gnolls.

… I lost my mother, that day.

I failed in my mission, I failed as a daughter... and took refuge in Gullykin.

- - -

Gullykin... makes me feel sad.

For as much joy as I try to sing to the trees and animals, I feel the life cry tears at me. They had endured war, and a terrifying necromancer... the war has cost dozens of lives. Men, women, and children. I sing my funeral song, and I think I saw each of their faces when I close my eyes and dream that same, simple dream. The dream of my own world, where for a while, everything makes some kind of sense.

Seeing the ghosts though, took something from me. Brought me closer to death... made me like -them-. I feel as them, dead and ghostly. It would explain a great deal. I don't always feel like I am here, or see the things in the same way as others. Always the maddness of my mother is on my mind, and if I had inherited something ghastly. My father's wisdom though is strong within me and says I should not worry of things that I can not control.

the ghosts of the dead are angry at me, despite my song. They did not enjoy it, because it reminded them of their passing away forever. How dare I sing of their sadness! What right do I have... The nightmare says I have no claim to life, as I am not even alive to the others. I have no family connection here, despite the gods saying we should all be a family.

I can not help but agree,

I am nobody.

I just wanted to try and make honey from the bees, but even in this I don't see how I can do something, as simple as that. I add nothing to this village, but pain and sorrow. The songs I wish to sing can not be spoken... and I don't know how I can ever, be cheerful. The music I hear in the forest is equally disturbing.

My father says I should just go home to him, once the route is clear. I could go to Nashkell... be part of his shadow again. The sad thing is, it -is- probably the smartest thing to do. This world is so cruel and dangerous. The nice ones are killed with a ferocity of such despair, that I find myself crying every time I hear a scream in the forest.... and I weep at every death, every drop of blood spilled.

I can't even convey how I feel knowing Anastasia died, and how others have gone missing... yet we are all expected to just get on with our lives. The others just get on without even mourning, and if I mourn.. if I let out my true feelings... how angry they would be at me.

I can't though... I don't feel like there is a light any more, at the end of the tunnel. With so much death, only a fool can remain optimistic...

Mad I might be, but no fool. (I just act a fool.)
Twin Axes
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Re: Songs of a pretty excentric bard.

Post by Twin Axes »

Another complicated and interesting character. Nice!
"[T]he dwarvern people, are machine-like, and it is impossible to reason with a machine." - Susana
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