Harmonic tunes sound through The Red Diamond Tavern. Occasionally, a not so harmonic error would split the otherwise lovely tune, or even stocking completely until finding the rhythm again. This was the work of Danderion, freshly hired as an musical entertainment at the tavern. It may be strenuous, but it rewards him with practice and a very reasonable pay.
Scattered applause resounds throughout the tavern as he ends his current piece. He then shifts his slowly-cramping fingers to move on to the next piece. Just then, a rather elderly man calls out to him: Listen here, how about you tell a story for us while playing, hmm?
He contemplated this. He knew how to write, but had never written something to accompany his pieces. It would very probably be useful to know. So he smiled a bit and replied: I'll have something by tomorrow, if you can wait!
Applause came once again, but louder than when he had simply played. He decided this was a good sign, and thought about this while he played on. However, after another few bells of work were done and he stretched his cramped fingers, he hadn't thought of anything.
So he simply chose another approach: He would go to the other patrons, play them a bit and ask what the topic should be.
So he walked up to the elderly man, and played him a rather uplifting tune. In response to his inquiry, he answered: Heh, why not about a peaceful scene, not about these rather sorrowful battles others write about? Thinking spontaneously, he asked for the man's name. Drondon, lad!
And so he proceeded around the tavern, playing different tunes, with different results: some patrons not wishing to be disturbed, others enthusiastically giving him multiple topics to work with.
After the last bell of his work was done, he took his lute and walked home. It had been a good day, he thought, with something new he could do.
He then sat home with a piece of paper and a quill accompanied by cheap ink, and thought through everything the others had told him: everyday life, tragedy, love, battle and honour. He decided to put a little of each in the ballad, and started working his way toward rhymes. How to put it all elegantly? After multiple bells, he had devised a rather short one, but he was content with it, being his first poem.
Returning to work the next day, he saw the old man come in a few chimes after he had began. He grinned at his sight, and preparing himself to play it, began to recite it:
It was but a normal day in Drondon's life,
Yet fate found the time was rife.
The young man found a young lass,
Love set in stone, never to pass.
But that was when war's banners called,
Drondon was named, both were appalled.
He then left, his city's what he fought for,
and he returned, both sick and sore.
For days and weeks he coughed and sneezed,
for air he could only wheeze.
And when his body finally resigned,
his dear one followed, their fates entwined.
Yet fate found the time was rife.
The young man found a young lass,
Love set in stone, never to pass.
But that was when war's banners called,
Drondon was named, both were appalled.
He then left, his city's what he fought for,
and he returned, both sick and sore.
For days and weeks he coughed and sneezed,
for air he could only wheeze.
And when his body finally resigned,
his dear one followed, their fates entwined.
This time the loudest applause he had received so far echoed throughout the tavern, even if some was sarcastic. WIth Drondon grinning at him, he couldn't help but feel ecstatic. He bowed, and prepared to again play his usual tunes.
