Blaise walks slowly into the tavern carrying his trusty lute, the runes on his face glowing a very dull red. Choosing a table at random, he sits and removes a small tome, a feather quill, and an inkwell from his belt pouch. Unscrewing the inkwell and dipping his quill once or twice, he proceeds to write at the top of a fresh page, in stunning calligraphy:
The Legend of the Ironspur Betrayal
The ifrit proceeds to pick out chords on the lute, singing quietly to himself.
"Ah, Rosalynn! Thank you, and certainly, I could use some help. This is history we're writing here, we should choose our words carefully. Let's review the important details, shall we?" Blaise finds a scrap of parchment and starts jotting down some bullet points.
- The Uordeq, supposedly seeking vengeance on the Dwarves for the destruction of the Shadowlands, attacked and invaded the Dwarven city, Forgeholme, taking captive King Guldar.
- The Uordeq were being led by Keg's son, Stein, who had defected from his own race and wielded the cursed heart of Espidrel as the source of his power.
- After fighting their way through hordes of Uordeq, trolls, and even dragons in the war-torn city, the adventureres of Jastrey found Stein, who cut down Fu Chu and eventually slew King Guldar. Stein escaped with the Heart of Espidrel.
"Yes, that seems to be the gist of it. The dwarves are, in fact, wracked with pain at the loss of their city and King, and will no doubt seek vengeance on the Uordeq, who will then seek vengeance on the dwarves, who will then seek vengeance on the Uordeq, and so on. Also, I heard something about poisoned ale, but I don't know much about that."
"I was there for the ale purification and we don't want that in the song. There would be tears or a riot. With the loss still fresh this should be a ...delicate endeavor to say the least. I don't like the idea of getting a pickaxe to the skull. Or worse, to my lute."
Digging into her belt purse, she drew out a quill pen that had seen far better days and been cut a few times too many and a crumpled piece of parchment with a grocery list on the other side. Wrinkling her brow, she began to scribble stanzas.
Oh son of Keg, the cursed one
From whence does all this come?
Abandoning your folk and home
A slayer you've become
In forgeholm deep, from whence we sprung
He's come and slain our king
And so a black lamant we'll chant
And mourning bells we'll ring
The cursed heart of Espidrel
Upon him took its toll
And with a gulp of potion black
Poisoned his dwarvish soul
An uordeq sprung up from his beard
And Forgeholm was surely doomed
For Stein was mad, now he'd be soon make
The king's palace his tomb
"Betrayer, snake!" his father cried
"Our family name you've spurned"
And as he drew his sword he cried
"You'll get what you have earned"
Charging forth towards former son
Keg called a battle crow
And as Stein slit the dwarf king's throat
He dealt a crushing blow
Raising the quill's tip to her mouth, she didn't seem to notice that she was staining her lower lip black.
"Just a rough beginning..." she mused
(I don't know, if you like any of this or want a different format or whatever, feel free to pick and choose. I can write lyrics forever, it's the music half that kicks my ass)
"Nice handwriting," Rosalynn commented as she plopped down beside the Ifrit with casual ease. "Need a hand? I'm a decent lyricist."