A few days later, I was practicing my storytelling in the inn's dinner area with Argentian sitting nearby, paying rapt attention. It seems he's taken a liking to my stories of the various misadventures I had during my time playing D&D. I stuck to stories from 5th edition to keep things mostly consistent with the way this world works, and people seemed to take any inconsistencies in stride. No one knows how every class works in reality; most just having a basic idea of how classes other than their own work. I was telling a story about a time we fought a black dragon and the party barbarian almost soloed the beast while everyone else couldn't do anything worthwhile. Unfortunately no one but Argentian was paying me any attention, so as my story was wrapping up and I was preparing to stop a bard-looking duo walked in. I figured they'd take over keeping the room entertained when one of them walked up to me in time to hear me finish my story.
“I'd hate to ruin what you've got going here Ms. Storyteller, but would you like some musical accompaniment? You tell your stories, and we'll match our playing to you, what do ya say?” I was a bit taken aback at the suggestion, but quickly came around to the idea and decided to give it a try.
“Sure.” I agreed, “Let's give it a try and see how it goes. Thanks.” I added with a smile. She was a tall half-elf, probably around 5' 8”, or 5' 9”. Thin and curvy in build and clothed in stylized leather armor. Her hair was long and vibrant red and her eyes were a deep green. Her friend was shorter, though still taller than me at around 5' 4”. Her skin was tanned from the sun and she wore simple clothes with a bit of flair to them. Her hair was dark brown and hung to her shoulders, but what was most striking was her eyes, metallic silver, I swear I could see reflections in them.
Anywhoozle, I started another story and the two bards played well. Their tune picking up or dying down depending on the content of the story. I told a story of political intrigue from one of my campaigns and it seemed to appeal better to the more intellectual crowd in the room. We did pretty well for our first time performing together and by the end of it the room erupted into applause. Though I'm not sure if it was the story or the music that caught people's attention, we all got a few silvers to split and I decided to stop while I was ahead.
“Thanks for the accompaniment. You're playing was masterful. I'm Allure.”
“You can call me Izzy and this is Willow. You've got some interesting stories that I've never heard before.” She held up her guitar and I noticed a strange symbol lightly burned into the wood, three daggers surrounding a black circle. Then she looked around at the less than happy faces in the dinner and asked a question.
“This place is full of academic-looking guys and gals. Something going on to draw these types here?” She asked almost innocently but there was an sharp light in her eyes. I think she already knows how I'll answer.
“Not quite.” I answered, “Petra has fallen by the hands of the Church of Humanity and we, mostly non-human, mages left when it became clear the leaders of the Red Cloaks supported them.” I'm sure my face showed my disgust and anger.
Her face was calm but the light in her eyes grew stronger as she asked, “What do you mean they supported them? They attacked the town too?”
“No” I respond, a little shaken at her intensity, “They prevented us from defending the town. Even knocked a few of us out with magic.”
She heaves a sigh, though I can't determine why exactly. She controls her expression and body language too well. She looks around the dinner room and comments, “I'm guessing these are the ones who didn't want to stay with the guild.”
“There's more, spread around the inns in town. Around thirty of us in total. Mostly researchers and a few teachers like me. I feel bad for the kids we left behind, but we couldn't bring them with us.” I respond to her statement, trying to add a little context.
“Does anyone in your group need help finding a place to live or work? We know people all over the place and could help point you in the right direction.” Izzy asked kindly.
“Well, I can't speak for everyone but me and Argentian here don't need any help. We're waiting on the temple to contact us about something for now.” I respond. I'm not sure why she's so willing to go out of her way to help strangers, but she can't be a bad person since she's offering.
“Speaking of, Argentian was it? When did the mage's guild start taking in the melee classes? Last I heard they didn't even take in all the caster classes.” She asks with an air of curiosity.
“Ah'm a Knight lassy. Name's Argentian Frostbane. I was body gaurdin Allure here when shit went down and I'm surry to say there wasn't much I could do without fightin the mages too. At my level it's jus' not doable.” Argentian said solemnly then took another drink from his mug. I think that's his fourth one? He really does drink like a dwarf.
“Hey don't feel down. Sounds to me like inaction was the better part of valor there.” She waved down the serving girl and ordered drinks for all of us. I'm not the biggest fan of the ale here but whatever, I'm not the one paying.
She returns her attention to Argentian, “So a knight, eh? You must have some interesting stories to tell. Mind sharing a few?” Oof, I wonder how Argentian will handle this. He's never been one to boast about his past, in fact it took me years to learn how he and Uncle met.
“A'ight, I guess I c'n tell you 'bout the time I was sent off ta fight a band a brigands who turned out to be much more...” The bard's smile was almost infectious as she listened attentively to his story. She clearly loved tales, both telling and hearing them. The day wore on and eventually Argentian's sad tale of a pyrrhic victory ended.
Things went quiet for a moment. The half elf was still smiling, but it was softer than before, more considerate, her eyes carrying a glint of joy tempered by understanding. Even her friend, who hadn't said a word so far, seemed to retreat into her mind as she processed the story. "That, good sir, was truly a tale worth hearing." Izzy said kindly, breaking the silence as she lifted her pint. "To the fallen heroes of a noble battle. May their deeds be forever remembered, and their sacrifice never forgotten."
We all raised our cups in a toast and Argentian said, “Thank you.” I kept my silence, brooding on Argentian's story. He went into more detail this time for some reason than when he told it to me, perhaps he was inspired by the storytelling we'd been doing, I don't know. It brought to mind my own experiences in my previous life. It may surprise you to learn that I was a soldier, it's how I learned to handle firearms. I wont go into it now, but I've had more than my share of harrowing experiences and lost plenty of friends. I'm forever grateful that this life was peaceful for as long as it was, even if that peace will soon be shattered by my own hand; at least this time I'll be fighting for something I personally believe in.
“Don't thank me, I was practically raised on the tales of the knighthood and hold a deep respect for their deeds.” As she sets down her pint she looks to the windows and seems to note the late hour. “Well as enjoyable as our conversation has been and as much as I love the stories you've told, the day is growing old so it seems it's high time we retired. If you're still here tomorrow perhaps you'll be able to catch some of our performances. Till next time.” Then she and her friend made their way upstairs, it seems they have already got a room. I turn to Argentian and see him deep in thought.
“We should probably get to bed ourselves. You doing okay Argentian?” I ask him gently. He turns to me and nods, getting up with a motion so fluid you wouldn't think he'd been drinking the day away. I hope he'll be okay, but it's hard to tell in the moment. Only time will tell.
