"Hmm..." Troi thinks for a moment. "A chronicler of epic deeds? And you came here, to the Red Dragon? Admittedly, I've heard stories that some famous people came here a few times... but other than that, this is hardly the place to find epic adventure."
"By 'chronicler,' I refer of course to the great oral tradition of my school, and though of course I wouldn't refuse to study an 'epic deed,' in progress, as it were, that was not my intent in coming here and most of my knowledge is of the past. Books can be burned and libraries can be sacked, but with a school such as mine, the history and lore of the great races, as long as a single Nobian Bard walks the earth, will never be lost."
Squeeking in glee "Oh a story, don't know that one. You got a free drink from the special storage room if you can enchant me and one other patron" Tiggle then jumps up and sits cross legged on the bar giving Velbrik his full attention.
"Perhaps I ought to tell the tale, if only for a mug of something to toast my new friends with."
"Many years of the empires past ruled a king, the thirty-second of his line, the Great Kings of Medibaria. This one was Ducard, seventh to bear that name, and known not for the extent of his rule or the fairness of his judgements, though he possessed such things, if perhaps in lesser quantities than others of his line. No, he was known from the other Great Kings because of his peculiar habits. He would often, and quite suddenly, without warning, depart his palace to wander the roads of his kingdom and mingle among his people. He would do this for days at a time, leaving his advisors bewildered and panicked, scrabbling to keep together without the authority the kingdom was used to. Ducard called this "communing with his people," though his people often wondered, in private, whether his time would be better spent in the office he had been raised for, rather than wandering about and wreaking havoc, as it were."
"So - and this is relevant to my reference - one day he was upon one of these Communes, and more specifically, on a road between two small and rather insignificant towns that had sprung up for little more reason than to cater to the needs of travelers. It was his custom to travel with escort, ever since the king was accosted by bandits and robbed (after that, the general quality of caravan guards made a sharp incline) on his own road. Upon this day, Ducard and his pair of guards (surly, gruff-looking types) came upon a cloaked stranger in the road. The stranger posed little obstacle in the road, and Ducard surely could have moved around him without trouble, but to Ducard this was the ultimate defiance - this cloaked figure had the gall to want to stop
his king from traveling where he wished."
Velbrik pauses a moment in his story. "Kings back then were a bit more assured of their ultimate power and authority - a lord nowadays would hardly care in such a situation - probably ask him to move or knock him about the head a couple times, like any old fellow."
"Ducard, in a rage, drew his sword and commanded the stranger to move aside. The stranger moved slightly, perhaps in defiance, and Ducard ordered his guards to slay the man. They moved forward, and the cloaked figure man a feeble effort to defend himself, but it was in vain. As the guards' swords pierced his heart, his hood fell off to reveal a beard, slightly tilted eyes, and two missing ears. The man - to Ducard's shock - was his twin brother, whom he had thought lost at a young age to ogres, and completely deaf from his mutilation at their hands."
Velbrik sighs, "A sad story, perhaps. But it is one worth learning a lesson from. It is one of the first taught to us at Nobius, and one, I'm told, that all would-be nobles are told before they take office. Hotheadedness is a boon to no one, especially when you hold as much power as Ducard did."
