The Heroes of Reddansyr
The aging bard sat quietly in his corner table, sipping at a glass of wine as he waited for the crowds to arrive. One by one the tables began to fill, with farmers taking a break from their backbreaking work, laborers and drifters trying to forget their troubles, and a number of bight-eyed children hoping for a story. Through it all the old man sat quietly, smiling slightly at the growing buzz of voices, feeling the building excitement and the quick eyes glancing his direction. Finally, when he felt that the tension had built up enough, he finished his glass and drew out his harp with a flourish. Plucking a single string, he waited for the buzzing voices to dissolve into silence. Clearing his throat he walked slowly forward, the eyes of the crowd following him across the room, before settling down in his usual spot by the inn’s fire.
For a moment more he sat in silence, basking in the eager stares of his audience, before speaking in his clear, melodious voice, Listen well, kind sirs and ladies, as I spin for you a wondrous tale of heroic deeds. His hands begin to move softly, coaxing a soft melody out of the harp to complement his words, For today I speak to you not of legendary tales from ages past, but of heroic deeds done before my very eyes, by a band of people who were once much like yourselves. Noticing their rapt gazes he smiles, knowing he had just guaranteed their attention, and pauses slightly for dramatic effect, Indeed, today I will sing to you the unsung tale of the Heroes of Reddansyr. Of their rise from humble beginnings to the eternal legends they are now. A story that illustrates the power held within us all, waiting only for an opportunity to be revealed. With the entire room following his every breath, the smiling bard begins his tale.
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