a Bard`s tale

[duracele]

https://soundcloud.com/nuclearblastreco ... ltura-mask

//This is mine! Not yours!... just joking. you are welcome to read on. keep in mind though the author is no professional writer and these are the views of his toon not necessarily those of the author
This stuff is free for use as long as you give some acknowledgment to BGtSCC and don`t use it commercially
it is no recording of DM events either... most of this stuff is just figments of roleplay
//These are Forsun`s private thoughts. He wouldn`t relate any of this to anybody really. So except the persons involved nobody would know this stuff
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJITMuix ... 05&index=2


"It is a good viewpoint to see the world as a dream. When you have something like a nightmare, you will wake up and tell yourself that it was only a dream. It is said that the world we live in is not a bit different from this."

Ghost Dog, Hagakure, the way of the Samurai


Forsun had went back into the mines. Deeper and deeper he had dared to venture. Curiousity driving him. It had only been a few day since he had witnessed the battle between the duergar and he was set on finding out more about these seemingly different tribes.
Surprised by not seeing any incidence of the foreign dwarves he ventured further into the compound.
Forsun met little resistance at first. No signs of the battle, that had reigned here only a few days ago, remained. Just as Forsun was leaving he was attacked by a large agressive spider. He easily dispatched of it and went back on his way towards Sshamath. Still in the mines however he suddenly was startled by a strange sound. It was the sound of a female voice, shrill and bizarre it sounded. Forsun could not make out it`s words.
Warily he aproached into the direction the voice was emerging from. Dead dwarves and illithids were lying all over the narrow hallways. All of them were a grizzly sight. They had been sucked dry to the bone (or whatever illithids have instead). Only their crumbling shells remained.
The voice grew ever shriller and louder. Step by step. Sliding from shadow to shadow Forsun made his way through the dark hallway. Ever searching for the origin of the strange voice.
He finally arrived in a room where three duergar and an illithid were battling a huge spiderlike being. Forsun hid in invisibility and watched the fight. It was not long before the creature had overcome the dwarves and its master. Before Forsun could act the creature turned on him. Obviously it had spotted him in his invisibility all this while.
She stood no chance to Forsun. After casting a final ward he engaged the beast with the fire that only lingers inside a drow. He slashed merciless at the beast, axe and knife against claw and bite. The steel cut deeper. Soon the creature lay on its back. The last twitchings of its limbs fading.
Forsun could see this was no ordinary spider. He didn`t know what it was but it was without a doubt the origin of the voice. Despite being uphauled by the stench he began to disect the beast. He took fluids of her body into an empty bottle and he wrapped some distinguishing parts of chitin into linen.
His gaze fell on the nearest tunnel leading deeper into the mines. Had the beast emerged from down there? Only one way to find out.
When the narrow passage opened into the gigantic underground hall of the mines he saw another abomination battling duergar and illithid. Here battlethirst won over common sense. He engaged both groups with a terrifying battlecry. But far from being stopped in their pace the creatures now turned on Forsun. Not only the abomination had turned towards him but already the illithid was trying to break his mind as well. Forsun tried to cast a final ward when the abomination shot a large tentacle into his direction. Chest pierced by the hideous thing the words of warding waned as the drow gasped for breath. He fled. He didn`t look back at the fiend but stumbled hastily, a trail of blood after him, towards the illithid hive. He was lucky. The creature forfeited pursuit.
Besides offering shelter the illithids were less than helpful on the matter. If anything Forsun could sense a feeling of amusement at the sorry state he had arrived in. After recovering what strength he could he decided it was time to make for the city. His magic was all but spent. He would need to rest and he would need advice. Who would he turn to?
The high priestess seemed open to hear his story. But as soon as Forsun had shown her the remains he had salvaged after his first battle with the abomination she took to another tone. She accused Forsun of defiling the holy site of Lloth by bringing the abomination to this place. She spoke of pennance that would have to be made...

[duracele]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJui3sCM ... 05&index=4

The weeks passed and still redemption of which the high priestess had spoken had not come to Forsun. He travelled the underdark in search for a task worthy to prove his value to the master. From the Illithid Hive to the Forgotten city he ventured and found no living soul to talk to.
He was suffering. He had left his mother`S house too early. Unprepared one might say. What did he think of forfeiting all past bounds and going into this world without any allies to take to. Only some months ago servants would have cared for his every whim. Now he was out in the wilds, scrambling together what food he could get. Always alert, almost like a wild animal.
He made his way for the city. He told himself he needed suplies but in truth it was more than that. Something had called him there. He had avoided to come here, ever since he had found the spiked head of a friend on display. Waves of sickness befell him as he thought of it. He shrugged it of. Stepping out of the passage into town.
He had seen her before. She was an Ilharess of House Sshamath of that he was sure. He saw her conversing with a strange, overly large figure only a few paces away from the Gloura`s. Forsun knew he had to show defference and thus he did. He bowed low to the Ilharess in passing and made his way towards the Gloura`s.
Only a few customers were occupying it at this time of the cycle. With his usual glass of wine he took seat in a quiet corner of the tavern. Mood brooding.
Then they entered the tavern the Illharess confidently striding through the room. The large, masked female after her. They had Forsuns attention immediately. He knew it was not proper to lay eyes on an Ilharess for a jaluk like himself. So he remained in his quiet corner and watched secretly.

[duracele]

The Illharess spotted him. Although Forsun tried to avoid her gazes on him he found himself pierced by her eyes. She moved to take seat at his table. Immediately Forsun jumped to his feet and gave his utmost elegant bow to the female drow.
The Illharess didn`t seem to recognize his courtesies, not even showing a sign she would notice his presence. Thus he took to his mandoline and began playing the tunes he had made up when venturing alone in the wilds.
He spoke of slaughter and treachery. Of bloodshed and mayhem but his words were soft. A somber sweet sound that only the drow tongue could provide.
The large jalil transversed the hall and made for a backroom. Upon her return she had left her disguise behind. Her skin had a light greyish tone, her long white hair flowing freely now. To his surprise a mandoline could be seen at her side. She stood besides him and started to play a tune of her own. Strange melodies, not heard in the Gloura`s before and words that made the ground tremble. She spoke of treachery, too. Of times long past and wars that had been fought. Of guilt on all sides and of the descent. Forsun had plaid along her melody. But slowly he transgressed into a hypnotic state. He could not take his eyes of the singer. Her words piercing his very soul. She spoke of the moon and the stars. Of roofless wilds roamed by his people in the past. A yearning stirred in his heart. His mother had told him of the surface. She had been hunting there by time. She had spoken of the weakness of the surface elves and of plunder to be had there. But everytime he had listenened to her stories he had felt there was more to it. Now he knew that more was the yearning just stirred in his own heart.

[duracele]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8tjxDg4 ... 05&index=6

The Ilharess startled him up from his musings. He hadn`t noticed but before the last tunes of the music had ended she had left her place at the table and was now standing before the singer. Towering her even though being a head shorter.
She had drawn a blade, piercing it on the singers chest. Forsun could do nothing but watch the drama unfolding. The Ilharess spoke in a soft, yet menacing voice. What she said Forsun could not make out but it was clear the drowess didn`t aprove of the story told.
He tried to melt with his soroundings, fearing he might have brought the wrath of a priestess onto him. He bowed his head low, put away his mandoline and watched as the Sovereign of house Sshamath pierced her blade to the singers chest. A small pouch of blood already filling above her bossom.
But something in the Ilharess changed at this point. Her face assumed a somewhat pained look. She sheathed her blade and obviously upset made for the exit. She left the singer and Forsun alone. Still taken by the story, he now watched her, who had skipped death by the blink of an eye.
She spoke to him. They talked for a long time. He forgot what had hapenned. He forgot he was talking to a half breed, who had just insulted the most powerful house within the city. His eyes were on her.
Again she spoke of the moon and the stars. She spoke of the sun too and that it was a lie that it would be deadly to his kind. Had it been an enchantment or was it mere curiousity. Forsun followed the singer. He vowed protection and lead her out of town. Deeper they travelled to a place Forsun had not seen before. She warned him. He forfeited. She cast protective wards. They entered. All that was after was darkness.

"Even if one's head were to be suddenly cut off, he should be able to do one more action with certainty. With martial valor, if one becomes like a revengeful ghost and shows great determination, though his head is cut off, he should not die."

Ghost Dog, Hagakure, the way of the Samurai

[duracele]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BMlr49Hi ... =7&pxtry=1

He took in breath again. Slowly regaining consciousness he found himself bound in strong ropes, lying on his side before the strange ancient ruin. The jabress was standing above him. Hands on her hips she had a mask covering her face. A burning pain eminated from his left hand. As he managed to catch a glimpse of it he saw with horror that one of his fingerlimbs was missing.
The jabress would call Forsun a fool to travel alone where few dare to venture in force.
He almost awaited her finishing the buisness and taking his head much as she seemed to have taken his limb. But instead he heard her sigh. She asked what his buisness was. He was answering to Lloth to make up for past transgressions. The jabress seemed less than pleased. She spoke of lies and of deceit of the queen. She removed her mask too and showed a scarred face.
Forsun was unbound again. Here he should have slain the Elisterian right on the spot to please mother Lloth. But he didn`T. Rather he started playing his melodies. Not heeding the dangers of the underdark the two sat and talked.

[duracele]

Forsun spends more time than usual in town during the last cycles. For the most part he seems to shun company and go about his buisness at the quiet hours. He can be seen sliping inside the Guild Bregan on several occasions. Often accompanied by two large orcs and a small hooded figure.
Upon leaving the Guild the look on his face had assumed a determined expression. Something would happen soon.


" There is surely nothing other than the single purpose of the moment. A man's whole life is a succession of moment after moment. If one fully understands the present moment, there is nothing left to do, and nothing else to pursue."

Ghost Dog, Hagakure, the way of the Samurai

[duracele]

Last thing he rememberred was waking up in the compound of the mines. Face to the floor, battered and bruised, his right side cleaved obviously by a blade. Next to him the duergar monk lay in a pool of his own blood, cleaved in half by what must have been a vicious blow.
Something had hapenned. Just not what Forsun had expected. He let out a hefty sigh and dropped himself into the comfortable chair in his rented room in the duergar compound. His hand was aching again. He looked at the scarrred flesh where once the index finger of his right hand had been. Memories flashed the back of his mind. A large masked jaluk, bearing the insignia of a Dev`lin house weapon master. Where there had been doubt before now it had become certainity.
Should he talk to his jabress about this. He wasn`t sure. No, not jabress. She hated that. Rilae... She was of his blood strong and proud. He had seen her fight in the ruins. A glorious sight to behold. Since her last visit they had only talked once. Through magic means. Anger entered his thoughts. Disempowerment and fear to his own incapability. He could not go where she had gone. He could not even relate to her his thoughts. Naut. Not needed. His path lay before him. His time would come. Anger, hatred and fear had not left him.
https://soundcloud.com/roadrunner-usa/s ... erritory-1

"When one has made a decision to kill a person, even if it will be very difficult to succeed by advancing straight ahead, it will not do to think about doing it in a long, roundabout way. One's heart may slacken, he may miss his chance, and by and large there will be no success. The Way of the Samurai is one of immediacy, and it is best to dash in headlong."

Ghost Dog, Hagakure, the way of the Samurai

[duracele]

With a broad grin she had set her blade to his belly. She let it hover just an inch away from his breast. "There are questions dos better not ask if dos value your life."
The jalil was not being serious he knew that. "If dos had wished to kill me i would already be dead by now."
There was nothing he could do if she caught him unaware with a spell. He knew of the power she drew from the weave. Fear. A curious thing. Without it we are all dead. Fear. A curious word. A man more suited might find a term more apropriate. For him it would have to do. Fear did not stop him as he had seen it happen on others. It could not take hold of him. Where others had fled he had stood ground. He was blessed or cursed. He non the less had lost some oh his fear from her. The same was true for the oposite he thought. Would he have reason to put that one down. He sure would find a way. Betraying those close to you is easy to do. Sadness befell him at this thought. After all this was what they were born to do. It was their nature. Their blood.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmxB2BwVufA

[duracele]

Anger. He had listened clamly. All the time. The young Singer had elaborated of her plans to reach the surface. To see those who dwell above. And to dance naked under the stars. He had still listened as the priestess of Lolth spoke of transgressions and redemption. So lightly! Fools! They knew naut what they were up against. Finally it had burst out of him. Anger! A strong force. It was one that could take hold of him. In battle it served him well. Here it seemed to do its job, too. The young Singer backed down visibly after he had told her what he thought about it.

https://soundcloud.com/tadashi-kanizawa ... -01-refuse

[duracele]

https://soundcloud.com/lilrobtheproduce ... rime-story

He watched her as she tended to the wounded. He listened to her prayers but he couldn`t understand her actions. Why would she aid the enemy? Why help those to get up again who had tried to kill her just moments ago. Did he see the drow reach for his blade there? He was not one for taking chances. While she had turned her back on him he put his blade through that one`s throat. As she turned he saw tears in her eyes. His own eyes staring coldly upwards at her.

[duracele]

"Usstan would kill for dos anyday." he looked at her doubtful. She had not brought him here. Rather she had ran off. It wasn`t long before she too entered the cave. He knew she had not slain the nosey passerby. Even though sparing his life could mean forfeiting both of theirs. She looked at him in obvious disbelieve. It was not within her grasp what he had asked of her. Their eyes struggled for some time. He broke the gaze first. Still a bit aggravated he packed up their stash and made ready to leave.

[duracele]

Hatred! Hatred stems from weakness. But Forsun wasn`t aware of that. He was kneeling before Lloth`s altar. Deep in thoughts. That foolish jalil! She stood there and watched as the weaver was about to infest her with brain eating slugs. Why had he interferred? He pondered long on it and didn`t come to a conclusion. No answers had come to him within the Hive. Only pain and fear. The wounds had healed by now. The priestesses had taken care of those. His mind was still racing but the thoughts in it were his own. Not those of a malevolent force.
https://soundcloud.com/saviela/let-down ... k-computer

"In the Kamigata area, they have a sort of tiered lunchbox they use for a single day when flower viewing. Upon returning, they throw them away, trampling them underfoot. The end is important in all things."

Ghost Dog, Hagakure, the way of the Samurai


A journey into the Hive it should have been. It proved to be more. Nawiel had prepared the little of spells she had. Sussuri stood ready with his bow. He looked at them both. Weak! His flimsy armour would naut deflect the blows of the duergar. Her spells would naut be enough to ensure safety in the Hive. Forsun knew it. He was clad in his battlegear himself. Ready to depart. Since hours.
As Forsun tried to hold the lot together they rushed ahead. Where they should have fled they stood ground. The foolish jalil even dared to shoot arrows at him. In his battlerage it was but a thought that held his arm as he went to cleave her in half. Madness and battlerage subsided as their eyes met. He looked long at her. Still looked at her as Sussuri came troddling after. His eyes fell onto the jaluk. Doubt lay in his cold stare. He turned on his heels and pressed on. The faint purple glow of myconid before him.
The Hive prooved more than a challenge. The flayers were in a rage. Never had he felt such debilitating blows of psionic energy. Pain was nothing that would stop him. He pressed on and eventually he found them. Lurking in the shadows. Like thieves in the night. Hiding. A curious thought. Hide from what? Sooner or later they would have to show themselves.
The struggle of minds prooved strenuous on the bard. There was naut one voice to fight but many. He paid no heed to Nawiel as she stood at his side tugging his cloak. He didn`t notice that Sussuri managed to fulfill their task. His mind was focused. He had subcumed to a haze as soon as they entered the elder brains chamber. Battle ready but with a empty expression on his face he stood before the Braingolems.
There was nothing to be found. Only anger, hatred, fear and pain. He buckled up his shield, let his sword sink and sheathed it finally. Lust for battle had left him. He looked at his comrades. Eyes ever more doubting.