Introduction
Deep within the slums, an old forsaken pub rested. Its foundation seemed barely kept afoot from the soil around it as the building itself seemed in ruins.
Tonight however, a crowd could be seen lining up from outside. What used to be a dusty old pub with hardly any business now suddenly danced with activity! A famed figure stood swishing his hips left and right as he hopped atop one table, jumping to the next. He leaned with a toothy grin towards those who gathered around.
The Bet
Women fainted at the melodious talent of the figure, while men wished to be the handsome minstrel who played atop the tables. Who was this figure so adapt to bend notes to his will?
Suddenly, the door of the pub slammed open, and in stepped a shadowy figure. Tall and lengthy, a creature who smelled of death. He peered towards the talented bard, a cold breeze blowing from behind him as he extended a boney finger.
The lute, which was previously at the mercy of the bard suddenly stopped. All were forced to peer at the demon who had made his appearence inside the musical pub.
He walked past men, children, and women, death reeking from under his cloak. Those around shuffled away in fear as the demon mage made his acquaintance. Slung to his side would be a wooden box, the shape of a miniature coffin. He conjured it forth at the feet of the bard, then proceeded to open his mouth. Dread swept the audience as fear shivered down the spines of all.
"You must think your golden bard, but this here pub is my forsaken place. However, I'll let you play your lute along if you accept a deal with me."
He opened the small coffin, a golden lute within.
"I bet a lute of gold for your life if you can prove you are better at playing than I."
The bard peered down, squinting his eyes.
"I'll gamble my life, it's a deal. Either way, you're gonna remember the day you lost to me."
The Demons Turn
The demons face cracked as a smile split across his mouth. Sharpened fangs could be seen through the horrific contortion of the mages grin.
He jumped atop a table, directly opposite of the bard. It hovered over the splintered floor boards as he motioned the lute to his hip.
"I'll start this show." the Demon Mage maliciously said.
Spiteful magic flew from the demons finger tips as he suddenly grazed the strings. The notes which dashed forth enchanted all inside the pub with an evil hiss. The notes were invasive, unkind, and benign. Children wailed, women cried, and men cowered.
When the demon finished, the bard began, "You aren't half bad demon, but sit down and lend an ear while I put your lute to shame."
The Bards Turn
The bard relaxed into position, placing his fingertip towards the strings of his lute. The tips seemed to fit perfectly in place much like a puzzle. He paused for a moment as he peered around over the crowd.
Then...
THE FINGERTIPS SUDDENLY DASHED!
Fluttering up and down the instrument in a battle for attention, the notes dashing and striking the ears of those around. None would be safe from the notes as they lashed out in a harmonious counterpoint, harassing all nearby. The bards neck strained, a drop of sweat dripped down his forehead as his playing continued along in a rising crescendo.
The Winner
The demon mage suddenly shrieked in horror as the bard played along. His levitating table which he stood upon, tipped, forcing the shadow to fall to the floor in embarrassment.
The musical notes turned, retreating back to the lute as the bards fingers, which were previously at the mercy of the instrument, trailed away into a mellow, thin, melodious conclusion.
The demon bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat, then shuffled forwards to place the golden lute at the bards feet.
"I have stolen dukes back from Nelfin nations. I burned down an entire cemetery of undead. I have spent the night in places so far north that even Drow do not tread, and returned with my sanity and life. I explore paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during the day. I've spoken to arken, sacrificed my heart to girls, and written songs that make minstrels weep."
He kicked the golden lute away, grinning towards the demon as the mage made his leave.
"Now, you have heard of me."
Deep within the slums, an old forsaken pub rested. Its foundation seemed barely kept afoot from the soil around it as the building itself seemed in ruins.
Tonight however, a crowd could be seen lining up from outside. What used to be a dusty old pub with hardly any business now suddenly danced with activity! A famed figure stood swishing his hips left and right as he hopped atop one table, jumping to the next. He leaned with a toothy grin towards those who gathered around.
The Bet
Women fainted at the melodious talent of the figure, while men wished to be the handsome minstrel who played atop the tables. Who was this figure so adapt to bend notes to his will?
Suddenly, the door of the pub slammed open, and in stepped a shadowy figure. Tall and lengthy, a creature who smelled of death. He peered towards the talented bard, a cold breeze blowing from behind him as he extended a boney finger.
The lute, which was previously at the mercy of the bard suddenly stopped. All were forced to peer at the demon who had made his appearence inside the musical pub.
He walked past men, children, and women, death reeking from under his cloak. Those around shuffled away in fear as the demon mage made his acquaintance. Slung to his side would be a wooden box, the shape of a miniature coffin. He conjured it forth at the feet of the bard, then proceeded to open his mouth. Dread swept the audience as fear shivered down the spines of all.
"You must think your golden bard, but this here pub is my forsaken place. However, I'll let you play your lute along if you accept a deal with me."
He opened the small coffin, a golden lute within.
"I bet a lute of gold for your life if you can prove you are better at playing than I."
The bard peered down, squinting his eyes.
"I'll gamble my life, it's a deal. Either way, you're gonna remember the day you lost to me."
The Demons Turn
The demons face cracked as a smile split across his mouth. Sharpened fangs could be seen through the horrific contortion of the mages grin.
He jumped atop a table, directly opposite of the bard. It hovered over the splintered floor boards as he motioned the lute to his hip.
"I'll start this show." the Demon Mage maliciously said.
Spiteful magic flew from the demons finger tips as he suddenly grazed the strings. The notes which dashed forth enchanted all inside the pub with an evil hiss. The notes were invasive, unkind, and benign. Children wailed, women cried, and men cowered.
When the demon finished, the bard began, "You aren't half bad demon, but sit down and lend an ear while I put your lute to shame."
The Bards Turn
The bard relaxed into position, placing his fingertip towards the strings of his lute. The tips seemed to fit perfectly in place much like a puzzle. He paused for a moment as he peered around over the crowd.
Then...
THE FINGERTIPS SUDDENLY DASHED!
Fluttering up and down the instrument in a battle for attention, the notes dashing and striking the ears of those around. None would be safe from the notes as they lashed out in a harmonious counterpoint, harassing all nearby. The bards neck strained, a drop of sweat dripped down his forehead as his playing continued along in a rising crescendo.
The Winner
The demon mage suddenly shrieked in horror as the bard played along. His levitating table which he stood upon, tipped, forcing the shadow to fall to the floor in embarrassment.
The musical notes turned, retreating back to the lute as the bards fingers, which were previously at the mercy of the instrument, trailed away into a mellow, thin, melodious conclusion.
The demon bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat, then shuffled forwards to place the golden lute at the bards feet.
"I have stolen dukes back from Nelfin nations. I burned down an entire cemetery of undead. I have spent the night in places so far north that even Drow do not tread, and returned with my sanity and life. I explore paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during the day. I've spoken to arken, sacrificed my heart to girls, and written songs that make minstrels weep."
He kicked the golden lute away, grinning towards the demon as the mage made his leave.
"Now, you have heard of me."
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