A Larkant Hall

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A Larkant Hall

Postby dainul » Sat May 21, 2011 8:27 am

In a drinking hall in a Larkant village, a poem which is becoming disturbingly familiar to some is being heard again as a travelling merchant stands on a tressel table to entertain his hosts.

"Heroes mighty, brave and strong.
They are for ever doing wrong
When in danger, on heroes we call
We know they will come and save us all
And of course when of victory we do hear
We sigh in relief and give a cheer
To them, our lives we now do owe
Unless, of course, the truth you know.
This problem that the heroes dissolved
It only started because they were involved.
This is something I just must stress
Heroes do nothing but clean up there own mess.

Dont trust in heroes in your neediest hour
They care for nothing but their lust for power
And that power, it goes to the brain
Well this is proven by Erathils reign.
And then there’s the opening of the well
because of them, many men fell
And then once again, they did persist
This time unleashing such destructive mist

Oh how hero stupidity does only increase,
Remember the demon ware-wolf they did release?
And ascension of annihilation, what a blunder
Of course dont forget all the Gods they did sunder.
They bring forth demons and undead without care
Ascending evil gods and bringing forth despair
Breaking down barriers, and that ritual in which,
A hero named Samuel became a great lich
Raising undead, like a plague through the land
who cares for the spirits that have been dammed.
Remember Narturlin?..."

A roar from nearby interrupts the speaker as a large warrior forces his way through the ahll towards him. "What the hell do you know of Heroism!?" The warrior jumps onto the table and knocks the merchant flying onto his back while none in the room seem too inclined to stop him. The warrior remains on the table while he berates the man lying in the dust below him.

"Erathil lived for power, and died for it. Samuel died for power and our own so-called Emperor is no better. They! Are! Not! Heroes!"

The warrior looks up to cath the eyes of those around the hall in the stunned silence.

"A hero is someone who will stand before his kin. Someone who will defend them with his Blood, with his Life. Drake is a hero. He died protecting those he fought alongside, and as I am his witness, he twice gave up a chance to return to life that others might live in his place. Alssana, Alrick and Jahn died in this village, protecting their families from their foes. They died heroes with not a touch of Essence upon them. Danoas lived and died a hero of the Mother's blood. In the 'wastes, there are those who have chosen to step outside of the protections set up by Kalist, who could stand safe within them, but who instead choose to risk their souls to defend those that Kalist and Aquilla will not allow within the Bastion of Hope."

The warrior jumps down from the table now and lifts the merchant easily in his deformed right arm.

"Decry the villany of Erathil, the slaughter wrought by Samuel and the treachery of the Emperor if you will, but do not call them heroes! They are everything a hero is not and I will not sit by while you defile the stories of those who deserve the name!"

The merchant is thrown back across the room, landing in a heap near the door, and doesn't need any more encouragement to take his leave as fast as he can. Back in the hall, the warrior jumps back onto a table and takes up a horn. Raising it high, he cries out "Glory to all the Heroes of the Mother's Blood! And may those villains who would steal their glory be slain and forgotten!" The roar as the toast is joined is almost deafening.
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