Storm replies that he will guard his friend and escort him
The man wakes up and smiles. He has a crooked smile and a broken nose, but is handsome in a rogue-ish sort of way. "Hello and well met, gentlemen! I am Terrence of Kenville, the best bard of Blackmoor."
Storm acknowledges the man's introduction and asks him what happened after introducing himself.
"What is a famed bard doing sleeping on a road plagued by bandits and other rogues??" Jan calls out with obvious distrust in his voice, once Storm has greeted the man.
"I know very well that bandits plague these roads. I met a group bandit Goblins not long ago, but rather than taking my hard earned coin or even my harder earned life, they preferred employing me as a herald. Heralds are untouchable. Everybody knows it."
"Then what message are you to deliver??" Jan asks. "And if memory serves, heralds need to wear heraldic or ornamental clothing to mark them as such or carry a decorative symbol. Did these goblins give you any such article, or are you a herald in name only??" He continues with blatant disbelief.
"Are you blind?" The bard points at the pennant with the heraldic symbol that he is carrying.
"From here that looks to be just a symbol or piece of jewellery," Jan says. He does however lower the bow and allow the string to rest accepting that, for now, this man may be telling the truth.
"If you want to hear the interesting story of this banner from the very mouth of the best bard of Blackmoor will cost you just two gold pieces each!" He smiles, exposing his crooked teeth.
"That's a high price for a tale, Terrence of Kenville. I hope it represents good value," Feanor says and hands over his gold.
"And tell us how big is this goblin band,"Storm adds
Terrence of Kenville smiles, clearly waiting to collect all payment before starting his tale.
Storm passes two GP and says,"please give useful information sir."
Jan sighed and reached into his pocket, seeming to search for the coins. Finding two gold he kept his thoughts to himself but tossed the two coins towards the bard. "Six gold for a story. It had better be good."
The bard makes the story long and full of jokes, but you have to admit he is good at that, so you listen to the end.
In summary, he tells you: I was looking for my destiny in these lands far away from the crowds, when I was ambushed a band of fierce looking goblins. Brigands! They were at least a dozen. Oddly, they didn’t take my hard earned coin. Instead, they let me swear on my very life to bring this strange flag to the court of Blackmoor, so, and I quote, “King Robert shall recognize our masters’ claim on this land that he has bravely earned in battle.” They were demented or under some magical compulsion, I guess. Clearly, my destiny was to agree, and to agree to whatever they asked. I did so with precision and skill. Further, they asked me to swear “allegiance to the Master of the Cave”. I have NO idea who that might be. Clearly, however, if pledging to return this scrap of heraldic antiquity got me along the road, I agreed to do so. It was clearly my destiny to survive this fortuitous meeting, so I decided to embrace my destiny. I think it is a stunning souvenir. Yes?
Normally Jan would be impressed by a finely woven song or tale, but he had already decided that he didn't like this man and sought reason to pick fault with him and his story. And by confirming he'd given his allegiance to an unknown master, let alone one served by goblin brigands no less, he had proven Jan's initial feeling correct.
"So, in short, you are to deliver this piece of goblin cloth to King Robert as a message that this land now belongs to this Master in the Cave?? Good luck with remaining cheerful when he hears that news." Jan said, his eyes now a fierce, cold blue. "And how do you know you are free of this newfound allegiance once the cloth is handed over?? How do you know that you won't be called upon to follow your destiny further and obey this Master in the Cave's next demand of you??"
His "wisdom" shared, Jan does not wait for an answer; rather he steps forward to survey the way forward, disdainful that he has lost gold to this fool. He needed to be away from this cheerful bard before he became more annoyed with him... especially with his bow ready as it was.
"Sir, after all this wisdom shared, can you please tell me where I can find King Robert?" He smiles.
"Nothing useful from what you told us initially. Gibve my gold back or my destiny will be to take back by force," Storm grins.
"I will give your gold back if you promise you will forget everything I told you so masterfully." You can see the bard's delusion on his face.
"Did this mob tell you any more of who the Master in the Cave was? Or what he was?" Feanor asks the bard.
"You are not being truthful mr bard. I hate lying tongues,"Storm replies.
In reply to Feanor (msg # 54):
"That was the last thing I was interested on. The first thing I was interested on was getting away in one piece." [Private to Jan Tarran: Now that you see it better, that standard doesn't seem like Goblin cloth as all. It looks pretty ancient and it is green with three white balls in it, laced probably with silver, although extremely oxidated.]
In reply to Stormrider (msg # 55):
"What?!? I told you all the truth! ...and also in very good style..."
Taking a deep sigh, Jan retraced his steps. Something had been playing on his mind and the time away from this man had allowed him to gather his thoughts more fully.
"Wait," he said, "let me see that standard a little closer." He realised he still held his bow and arrow in an aggressive and ready state. Returning the arrow to his quiver in a gesture of peace, he looked at the cloth.
"That doesn't look to be a goblin rag after all, but intricate and old. An ancient Thonian standard perhaps, but I cannot see the heraldry clearly and would not be familiar with the symbols even if I could."
He stared at the bard with his cold, blue eyes; "so you are to return an old standard, possibly claimed in battle by the goblins ages ago, to what end?? For these bandits to reclaim land?? If they'd won the battle the land would be there's and they would have no need of such a gesture. So it suggests that the land is not theirs and they are laying claim to it now, after all this time.
I do not know the laws of this land, but can they do this?? Has there been such a battle?? Do they have the right even with this old piece of cloth as their evidence??"
"I don't know, but I know there is no King Robert. The King of Blackmoor is Uther Andahar... and he's the first King of Blackmoor! Before, Blackmoor was a Barony, not a Kingdom... So... to whom shall I bring this standard? Before you came, I was searching the answer to this riddle in deep mediation..."
Storm is getting upset by the bard. Heforces himself to kep quiet and let his friend talk
Jan stares at the cloth for another moment then sighs heavily, apparently suffering an internal conflict. "I'm am not pleased that you have charged us an excessive amount of gold for a tale that, however delivered, will be common knowledge once the flag is delivered." He says finally. "For you took an oath to deliver this banner, that is what you must do. If the target of delivery is no more, or never existed, it is not for you to decide. You need to complete your side and pass this on to someone of authority who has the capacity and understanding to make a more informed decision. One of King Uther's advisors would suffice.
After all we do not know what threat this Master of the Cave holds, or what their intent is."
He looked at the priest they had been hired to protect, wondering what he made of the situation.
'We have our own charge to protect.." He added.
The bard shakes his head at your continuously moaning for a meagre coin, as if you were uncivilized and uncapable of understanding the huge value that his noble art has, but doesn't comment on that. "Where are you going? Maybe eventually you are planning to go to Blackmoor City? Maybe I can join for a while, as I pursure my quest, and enrich your hearts and souls with my art."
Roger Lillard has been quiet so far, but eventually hands over two coins to the bard and nods, dubious and suspicious, without saying a single word.
"The road is free, you can go where you will," Jan says, looking at the man in disbelief. "however if it is your art to charge travellers coin for a story it is ours to charge for protection.
Do as we say when we say, without question, and don't get in our way or slow us down.
And be advised that we already have a charge we promised to protect. Should your presence be deemed a hindrance or draw unwanted or unnecessary attention to us, then well... Goblins will be the least of your concerns.
And no singing when we walk." He adds with a stern look.
"I can see that you don't have the heart of a protector of the weak, but rather of a tyrant, willing to give orders to everybody even if nobody put you in charge. The road is free: go where you want. I want some more sleep. And no shouting while I sleep." Looks like the bard had enough of you: he lays down again as you found him originally, pulls the standard around him like a blanket and closes his eyes.
Feanor looks a the standardbearer and sighs with pity. "He doesn't seem to be travelling well. Perhaps we should let him come along. We will eventually make it to Blackmoor, or closer to it, one way or the other. Maybe his singing is better than his storytelling, and maybe we will get more for our two gold pieces than an update on his current predicament," Feanor reasons, looking to Jan and Storm.
"Tyrant, hah!!" Jan laughs, but his eyes blaze in anger. "You demand coin for a mere story yet react angrily and expect us to lay our lives on the line to aid you for free, and I'm the villain and tyrant here??" he growls. "I see that the bard's reputation for warped perspective and self import remain strong.
Stay or come, I care not."
Stepping closer to Feanor he said quietly, "You're right, he'd probably get himself killed alone. I don't care for the gold, he can keep it. I just find this man crooked and not worthy of my trust. I don't know why, I can't explain it.
Probably my northern blood.
If he comes keep an eye on him, keep him close."
Storm proposes carrying the hard along
_________________ He's a real Nowhere man, sitting in his Nowhere land, making all his Nowhere plans for Nobody.
Last edited by Yaztromo on Sep 05, 2020 2:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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