Felix Valentune : Of Orcs And Wolves The Tale Of Ashlagar

Newbie Joined: Oct 08, 2010 Posts: 3

The small framed elven man bears a smile as he pulls the leather strappings off of his lute. He removes oils and wax, and sets about polishing the extremely aged instrument, and waxing it's strings. The wood is old, the strings are frayed, yet when he plucks the strings they are in perfect tune, resounding the notes around the small fire. The notes seem to carry off into the night as he ensures that all of the strings are in tune.

"This great fantastic instrument was bequeathed to me by Rethariam SilverTongue, one of the greatest spinners of tale I have known in legend. It is said to have great magical properties, even though it appears an old lute way past it's day. I offer forth a tale this night, and hope that it passes your whiles with remembrance and awe."

He throws some strange blue salts on the fire, creating a plume of smoke that immediately falls to the ground around the fire looking almost like a thick fog. He clears his throat, and rises through the notes as if tuning his voice along with the weathered lute. He strikes a chord, low and resonant, the blue smoke at the feet of the people assembled settles a bit lower.

"Merrily did I set through the Forests Of SilverHedge,
All the forest hushed,
The winds were calm, The animals hid,
Deep in the underbrush,
When came one down the northern road,
Dressed for war and such,
Upon his hip, a purse quite filled with teeth,
From Orcen skulls crushed,
And asked I him, Sir what mean you?
With carrying about such stuffs?
A laugh that boomed throughout the plain,
The orcs do sate my battle lust."

A smoky vision of a grim helm rises from the smoke as the song changes key, and a booming laugh knocks some of the listeners off their perches.

"My name is Ashlagar, I hunt the orcs,
And sell their teeth for bread,
But as of late,
My sheild did break,
At the teeth of the wolf-were's head,"

"I ask you sir, you seem to stir,
At adventure and the like,
There is a keep, most black and deep
Within us a short hike
I go there soon, and as a boon,
You may follow if you like"

"And just as so, young felix did go,
About the blackened stone,
His song did serve, their claws to swerve,
The Orc slayers sword was shown,
He cleft, and swept, cleaved and heaved,
Cracking skulls and bone"

The smoke takes the form of figures at battle. As some of the figures fall, the fog shoots of from the foot of the fire and the tiny mock battle, coalescing and falling on the crowd as if the sprays of blood.

"So spread the word, let it be heard,
That the Orcslayer's sword will fall,
Upon his foes, the blood will flow,
Away they try to crawl,
If these you be, there is no reprieve,
You are to folly's call,
For the Ashlagar's sword doth cometh down
And doth not stop nor stall.
On Orc and Lycan all.

As the song concludes the smoke settles away into the dirt. He places the lute carefully back into it's leather bindings, setting away the wax and oil. He bows slightly before heading off into the wilderness....