Dreamer
10-19-2005, 05:15 PM
[I always had difficulty roleplaying my bard. As an engineer, I’ve always identified more strongly with wizard types than other characters. I’m a neophyte with the written word and worse than that with anything having to do with any performing art.
It did occur to me, though that fleshing out the in-game songs (and why the songs accomplished the intended affect) is a good way to breathe life into Jangles. Here is such an attempt.]
He is late, as usual.
Jangles rushes up the stairs. As he reaches the third floor and passes through the building, he barely notices the ornate decorations and other trappings of rich tradition displayed in the hallway of the Bardic College of Telon. At the end of the hallway, he turns the corner and pauses outside an open door.
The classroom is unusually crowded. The room’s occupants generate a palpable energy the way only an eager group of young people, gathered together for the first time, can. Jangles rushes into the room, takes a quick moment and acknowledges those who he believes are his most important audience, his students. He assumes the tone of a lecturer and begins without preamble.
“Almost nobody understands what bards can do. Even less understand how they do it. Today, and for the rest of your time here, we will attempt to remedy a small part of these sad facts.
”I will reveal this truth now, my friends, fellow poets, storytellers and musicians, so that a few of you may know. And eventually amongst those who know, some of those will come to understand. And in turn, one who understands, may begin to believe.
”There are both light and dark magics in song and the spoken word, as there are both light and dark magics in the hearts of all creatures. It is the bard's simple task to seek a connection of these two magics.
”I learned this simple song from a bard I studied with, a long, long time ago...
”Nothing good comes in the night.
Doubts fester in the lost light.
Wrong is confused for what is right.
Nothing good comes in the night.
Nothing good comes in the morn.
Fear of destiny under sun is born.
Hopelessness takes solid form.
Nothing good comes in the morn.
Nothing good comes in the day.
Friends and enemies are off to play.
A once stalwart love turns away.
Nothing good comes in the day.
Nothing good comes in the eve.
A chill change blows through the trees.
Brides and mothers wail and grieve.
Nothing good comes in the eve.
Nothing good comes in the night.
Doubts fester in the lost light.
Wrong is confused for what is right.
Nothing good comes in the night.”
For a moment the students remain in their chairs, quiet. Someone then notices that their new teacher has left the room, somehow undetected by everyone. The room explodes with new excitement; many discuss the dubious merits of the lyrics and melody, many scoff at what seems a simple parlor trick.
A few sit quietly and see the first hint of the power of ideas, of hidden, unshared feelings, and of connections.
It did occur to me, though that fleshing out the in-game songs (and why the songs accomplished the intended affect) is a good way to breathe life into Jangles. Here is such an attempt.]
He is late, as usual.
Jangles rushes up the stairs. As he reaches the third floor and passes through the building, he barely notices the ornate decorations and other trappings of rich tradition displayed in the hallway of the Bardic College of Telon. At the end of the hallway, he turns the corner and pauses outside an open door.
The classroom is unusually crowded. The room’s occupants generate a palpable energy the way only an eager group of young people, gathered together for the first time, can. Jangles rushes into the room, takes a quick moment and acknowledges those who he believes are his most important audience, his students. He assumes the tone of a lecturer and begins without preamble.
“Almost nobody understands what bards can do. Even less understand how they do it. Today, and for the rest of your time here, we will attempt to remedy a small part of these sad facts.
”I will reveal this truth now, my friends, fellow poets, storytellers and musicians, so that a few of you may know. And eventually amongst those who know, some of those will come to understand. And in turn, one who understands, may begin to believe.
”There are both light and dark magics in song and the spoken word, as there are both light and dark magics in the hearts of all creatures. It is the bard's simple task to seek a connection of these two magics.
”I learned this simple song from a bard I studied with, a long, long time ago...
”Nothing good comes in the night.
Doubts fester in the lost light.
Wrong is confused for what is right.
Nothing good comes in the night.
Nothing good comes in the morn.
Fear of destiny under sun is born.
Hopelessness takes solid form.
Nothing good comes in the morn.
Nothing good comes in the day.
Friends and enemies are off to play.
A once stalwart love turns away.
Nothing good comes in the day.
Nothing good comes in the eve.
A chill change blows through the trees.
Brides and mothers wail and grieve.
Nothing good comes in the eve.
Nothing good comes in the night.
Doubts fester in the lost light.
Wrong is confused for what is right.
Nothing good comes in the night.”
For a moment the students remain in their chairs, quiet. Someone then notices that their new teacher has left the room, somehow undetected by everyone. The room explodes with new excitement; many discuss the dubious merits of the lyrics and melody, many scoff at what seems a simple parlor trick.
A few sit quietly and see the first hint of the power of ideas, of hidden, unshared feelings, and of connections.