Lycron's Songquest

[Whistler]

I was given a songquest by lycron, and have written and performed (in his temple) the following song about my interaction with his follower, Kefka:

Mighty Kefka

The Halfling glances out at the audience then turns to his instrument.
He begins slowly by plucking out a dirge like rhythm on his lyre:
Puh-linkety-dink,
plink . plink . . .
Puh-lankety-dink,
plank plunk,
Plink plankety-plink; Plink plankety plunk,
Plink plunk;

Whistler ‘s voice fills the room in solemn tones:
Before the advent of the dawning of The Crimson Sun
There walked a shaman who marked with blood
All the things he ’d done
Though he knew not yet
where it was his path would lie,
Any whom would cross it,
They . . .
They would die . . .

As the halfling ’s voice falls quiet, the lyre ’s hypnotic rhythm comes evident:
Puh-link plink-plink
Puh-link plink-plink

Whistler ‘s voice raises above the lyre in praise:
Oh Kefka, Mighty Shaman,
With your to-tems bold . . .
Kefka, Dreaded Shaman.
You . . .
Have evil in your so-oh-oul . . .

Again, the Halfling ’s voice gives way to the lyre ’s incessant rhythm:
Puh-link plink-plink
Puh-link plink-plink

Whistler tips back his head, eyes closed in memory. His song builds a melancholy vision:
The dreaded shaman wandered-throughout-the-realm
Armored not . . . with armor, shield or he-eh-elm,
He wore his cloak of malice as his sole-defense-to-sword,
And his weapon: a soul wrenching wo-or-ord. . .

Whistler ‘s hand picks up tempo across the lyre:
Puh-linkety plink plink-plink
Puh-linkety plink plink-plink

The little bard’s voice fills the room in a wail:
Mighty Kefka, your name alone calls cro-o-ows,
Mighty Kefka, Master of Souls,
To Dreaded Kefka, death is but a to-oo-ool,
He uses . . . for the punishment of fools.

Whistler plays:
Plinkety Plink-Plink,
Plink-plink plank-plink plunkety
Plankety plink-plunk,
Plunkety-plang

Tears beading at the corners of his eyes, Whistler sings:
Twice he warned me, my actions did offend,
Twice he showed me, that he could be my end,
He laughed and so I thought his threat was just a je-eh-est,
I hadn ’t realized the torment of his test. . .

Whistler lets the building of his emotion flow through his instrument:
Puh-linkety plink-plink,
Puh-linkety plank-a-plang-plang
Puh-linkety plang-plink plink.
Puh-linkety plang.

Whistler wails in shame:
I wandered through a sea of orcs
Beset on all sides, I ignored each fallen corpse,
When suddenly before-my-eyes,
One long-dead burst out wide,
And from that corpse, Kefka did arise. . .

The lyre ‘s hypnotic rhythm reemphasizes:
Puh-link plink-plink
Puh-link plink-plink

Whistler ‘s voice bounces off the walls in confession:
Kefka cried out: Bardling, you were warned!
I could not disengage from the orcs battle-swarm,
He spoke his sacred word and my body wracked-with-pain,
He spoke it one more time, and tore my soul from-my-brain.

Whistler sniffs and wipes his sleeve across his red rimmed eyes as he pleads:
Wretched Kefka now I cry your name!
Dreaded Kefka, I sing glory to that name. . .
Honored Kefka, now under The Crimson Sun,
I pray that my offense to you is done. . .

The bard lets the hypnotic rhythm of the lyre overtake his now quieted voice:
Puh-link plink-plink
Puh-link plink-plink
Puh-link plink-plink
Puh-link Plink.

Whistler lets the final note fade, then holds his arms out to his sides and takes a grand flourishing stage bow.

-

[Totec]

[Lycron]

Nice work - I'll try to coordinate your restring soon. Please PM me all the info.