In the quiet corners and bustling streets, a haunting melody has emerged, spreading slowly but inexorably like the ripples of a spell. This ballad, with its roots unknown, has become the talk of minstrels, travelers, and common folk alike, transcending boundaries and echoing through the diverse landscapes of the realm.
The tale woven within the song speaks of events unfolding in the heart of Amn, captivating the imaginations of those who chance upon its enchanting notes. Street minstrels, drawn to its haunting beauty, have become the unwitting messengers, sharing the mysterious song with passersby in markets, taverns, and village squares.
As the ballad meanders through the cities and countryside, the lyrics tell a tale of a fallen celestial, a once-pure paladin cursed by the Lady of Sorrow. The celestial's quest to rid the land of magic and the subsequent toppling of a tyrant wizard's floating tower paint a vivid narrative that captivates the hearts and minds of those who listen.
Word of the ballad's mesmerizing verses reaches the outskirts of Amn, where villages on the periphery of the nation might begin humming its haunting melody. Farmers, merchants, and innkeepers might share snippets of the song, passing on the story of the heroes rising to face the impending darkness.
In the taverns along the coast, sailors and traders pick up the tune, carrying it with them as they embark on journeys across the seas. The whispered song becomes a vessel of news, spreading tales of magic, tyranny, and heroic resistance to far-off lands.
As the ballad might continue its journey, it might reach the edges of Amn, where even the vigilant Inquisition might catch whispers of the song.
In the Land of Intrigue, where shadows loom,
A wizard tyrant, his power did consume.
A tower in the sky, above the clouds so high,
A tale of magic, destiny draws nigh.
In Nashkel's heart, the rebel tyrant declared,
His magic dark, his power unrestrained.
A celestial fallen, cursed by the Nightsinger's hand,
Sought to bring an end to magic in the land.
The tower soared above, a menacing sight,
Casting shadows below, a perpetual night.
But the fallen paladin, with a heart now cold,
Vowed to break the wizard's mystical hold.
Rise, oh heroes, to face the arcane plight,
The tower falls from the heavens, crashing in the night.
In the Greenfields, it rests, a monument of despair,
But hope will bloom, in the ruins, nature repair.
The Lady of Sorrow cackled in the moonless night,
Her fallen servant now consumed by spite.
The wizard's magic waned, a celestial's bane,
But the threat remained, a world in pain.
The Amnian Inquisition, with righteous might,
Sought to eradicate mages, blinded by their fight.
Tyrants may rise, but heroes will stand,
To protect the Weave, the magical strand.
Rise, oh heroes, with swords and spells,
Face the inquisition, where darkness dwells.
In Nashkel's skies, where the tower once soared,
Lies a tale of redemption, of magic restored.
The fallen celestial, once pure and divine,
Now a harbinger of doom, a twisted design.
But heroes united, in the face of strife,
Will banish the shadows and restore the light.
Rise, oh heroes, let courage be your guide,
Against the fallen paladin, in a better future confide.
In Nashkel's story, where the tower falls,
Nature shall flourish, breaking destiny's thrall.
In the aftermath, the heroes must strive,
To clear the debris, so nature can revive.
For in the Greenfields, where the tower lay,
A new dawn emerges, chasing the night away.
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A melancholic song starts to spread around the Sword Coast.
In lands where magic weaves its spell,
There dwells a tale few dare to tell.
Of Castus the Zealous, fallen from grace,
With fire in his heart, a darker face.
Once an angel pure, now veiled in scorn,
His wings now clipped, his soul forsworn.
Against Mystra's will, he took his stand,
To purge all magic from the land.
With followers in thrall, the Unravellers rise,
To heed his call, beneath darkened skies.
They see him as prophet, though blinded they be,
For Castus's path leads to naught but misery.
But Mystra's light still flickers on,
A beacon of hope, though Castus has gone.
In the shadows, the unravelled scheme,
Yet in the end, it's the light that gleams.
So heed this warning, oh wandering soul,
Beware the zealot's darkened goal.
For in the quest to snuff out magic's light,
Lies naught but despair in eternal night.
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Two: "Yes, I've double-checked. It's all set. We're not leaving anything to chance this time."
One: "Good. They don't know what's coming. After what they did, this is the least we can do."
Two: "Those people, if only we had arrived sooner..."
One: "They chose the wrong target. This will be their last mistake. No one will touch them ever again."
Two: "And when it's over, everyone will know. We don't forget."
One: "For Baldur's Gate, and for all who lost their lives at the hands of those fanatics. None shall be left alive."
Two: "Then it's decided. Let justice be served."
One: "Justice... or revenge, for us, it’s the same tonight."
Across the Sword Coast, a new melody is stirring hearts and lifting spirits. This song, simple yet powerful, would be spreading from port to port and village to village, weaving its way through taverns and campsites alike.
Its refrain, filled with joy and hope, is not meant to strike fear into the hearts of the enemies but to inspire and uplift those who hear it. Whether you’re an adventurer setting out on a perilous quest or a common folk facing daily struggles, this tune might remind of the strength that lies within them.
The song becomes a gift to everyone, a reminder that even in the darkest hours, hope and happiness can shine through.
On coastal cliffs, where shadows drift
Brave hearts take their stand
Against the tide of Demon’s pride
With melodies so grand
Strum, brave souls, your chords ring true
The Sword Coast’s guardians, tried and new
Those Doggy-dopes and scaly pests
Will falter at your music’s crest
From tavern halls to city walls
Their songs rise in the night
The finny fools of Daggy-Doos
Retreat from the coming light
Strum, brave souls, your chords ring true
The Sword Coast’s guardians, tried and new
Those Doggy-dopes and scaly pests
Will falter at your music’s crest
Though demon lords may bare their swords
And shadows try to creep
With song and spell, they’ll cast a spell
The Coast's defense will keep
Strum, brave souls, your chords ring true
The Sword Coast’s guardians, tried and new
Those Doggy-dopes and scaly pests
Will falter at your music’s crest
So sing out loud, with spirits proud
Let music be your shield
Those gillbrain runts will soon be done
As your sweet chords are revealed
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One: "We’re running out of time. The rift is growing, and Baldur's Gate won't hold much longer. One group will join the striking force. They'll be the hammer that drives the demons back. The second group will support our allies."
Two: "I see. The distraction will need to be swift, unpredictable."
One: "Precisely. Once the pieces are in place, we’ll reconvene at the appointed hour. What happens then will determine everything. Our part is to set the stage—nothing more, nothing less."
Many: "Understood. We’ll be ready to move on your signal."
One: "Good. The fate of the city rests on this. Let's win this. For those supporting our allies, may shadows guide you. People might die today. Let's give their deaths a meaning."
Many: "We shall do no less, and sacrifice ourselves we will, if it means to save us all."
One: "The news from Ulgoth's Beard is grim. The village... it's lost. But before you despair, know this: the mission was, in the end, a success."
Two: "A success? With the village gone, how can that be?"
One: "Several brave heroes managed to seal the rift before the demonic horde could spread further. The devastation could have been far worse. We averted a catastrophe that would have consumed not just Ulgoth's Beard, but much more."
Two: "I guess it is a small price to pay..."
One: "It is. The balance has been preserved, even if at a cost. Now, we must turn our attention to Baldur's Gate. We need to keep a vigilant eye on the city. If anything else goes awry, we must be swift in alerting the Flaming Fist."
Two: "Agreed. We'll watch from the shadows and be ready. To the shadows, then."
One: "To the shadows."
As the first light of dawn crept over the stone walls of Baldur's Gate, a melody began to weave its way through the city's narrow streets and bustling markets. It started as a whisper, a single, haunting note carried by the wind. Slowly, it grew, joined by the soft hum of violins and the deep resonance of a flute.
The melody was somber, yet triumphant, a tribute to the heroes who had stood against the darkness. As the tune filled the air, people paused in their steps, drawn to the sound. The song was not one of simple joy, but of profound gratitude, honoring those who had sealed the Rift and those who had made the ultimate sacrifice at Ulgoth's Beard. Without them, the city they now walked through in safety might have been nothing but ash and ruin.
The song that echoed through the streets was brief but powerful, its words etched in the hearts of those who heard it.
In the depths they fought the tide,
With courage burned where hope had died.
For them we sing, for them we weep,
Their sacrifice, our souls to keep.
As the rift was sealed, and doom delayed,
Their steadfast hearts our fears allayed.
Through crimson dawn, their light remains,
Guardians true of land and plains
At Ulgoth's Beard, their stand was made,
In fire and blood, their debt was paid.
For those who fell, and those who stayed,
In every breath, their name is laid.
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One: "That one played the Harp, played the Zhent, played the pirate, played the thief, played the cultist, played the saint. Lied to all, served none but itself. And now it dares refuse to set things right."
Three: "Then it has made its choice. Do we give it another?"
One: "It had plenty. More than deserved. If it wants to be a traitor, it should remember what happens to traitors."
Five: "They die, so freedom may live. And if it runs?"
Four: "Then it will learn that nowhere is far enough."
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Two: "We heard. Baldur’s Gate exiled it. A fitting start."
One: "It played the savior, the schemer, the fool. Unleashed the Mother of Demons, then slipped away like a thief in the night. Thought it could outrun the consequences."
Three: "Does it truly believe exile will shield it? That we’ll forget what it’s done?"
One: "It believes it’s untouchable. That its sins will fade with time. It’s wrong."
Four: "It will learn. No distance is enough. No refuge safe. We will find it."
One: "It had its chance to make amends. Instead, it chose to hide. Now it will face judgment... not by the Gate, but by us."
Five: "And if it fights? If it tries to turn the tables?"
One: "Let it try. It will only make its end more... poetic. Traitors don’t get second chances. Not from us."
Two: "For the world to heal, its betrayers must fall."
One: "And this one will fall. Quietly, painfully, forgotten and without glory. It will serve as a reminder, to all who would follow its path."
Four: "What about the rest?"
One: "The mother of demons is the next on the list. Then, the Black Network."
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One: "Ulgoth’s Beard lies in ruin, but ruin is not the end. In time, it will stand again."
Three: "If the survivors return. Not all fled—some vanished. The sea took them, or so they say."
One: "The sea, or something beneath it. Reports spoke of shadows moving in the fog before the attack. Some claim they heard voices, whispering from the water."
Five: "Superstition. The real damage was done by mortal hands. And those hands have been dealt with."
Four: "Perhaps. But if the whispers return, we will listen."
// We’d like to take a moment to clarify a few things, but first, we want to express our gratitude to all of you who continue to read these posts—especially those who are truly invested in the dialogues and stories we try to weave, inspired by in-game events.
We'd also want to take a moment to explain, unless explicitly stated, either outside QUOTES or through private actions, the dialogues shared here are not public knowledge. They serve as a way to illustrate how Those Who Harp operate and think, not as free information for characters to use.
We’d also like to give a special thanks to those who have taken information from these posts and not acted on it as if their characters had access to it.
We value both in-character and out-of-character knowledge highly. Knowing how to separate the two is essential.
Thank you all once again, and happy reading!
A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies . . . The man who never reads lives only one
- George R. R. Martin
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