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Lerris
White Knight
26 Aug 2003
This room is like so many others. It is the central hall of a royal family. The people here sit about and exchange gossip about current events and each other as they do in so many other halls.
The difference of this hall is in the entertainment. The servants quickly rush to dim the lanterns to create the perfect atmosphere. The crowd slowly vacates the center of the room while whispering about what kind of performance they expect. A servant places a simple stool in the cleared area directly in front of the lord and lady of the realm.
The doors to the side entrance open to allow entrance to tonight's single performer. The nobles crane their necks and strain their eyes to see him clearly. All they can make out is his long blonde hair spilling halfway down the length of his dark green cloak and see that he carries an instrument of some sort.
The lord seeks to hide his curiosity by gruffly saying "So, I see tonight we have a common minstrel. Well minstrel, let us see if you are worth the effort it took to set up the room." The lord obviously does not care for the conditions the player set before playing and is looking for a reason to make his displeasure known.
Amazingly the minstrel does not answer the lord or even acknowledge his existence. Instead, he sits upon the stool and slowly tunes his instrument. A learned observer would see that this is a gittern, but not a standard one. This gittern seems to be made in the image of perfection. Its twelve strings glisten in the light shed by the lanterns. The wood itself seems to absorb the warmth of the room and enhance it. If this performer is even of half the quality of his instrument then this shall be a show worth hearing indeed.
A very perceptive observer would perhaps notice another thing. The performer wears a ring. Most musicians will not wear any jewelry on their hands as it may foul their fingering. But it is plain why the musician refuses to remove this ring. It seems to be made of gold, some black metal, ruby and emerald. All are as thin as course thread and woven about each other and braided about to form this ring. The cost of the metals and jewels alone is something any thief would drool over. The craftsmanship makes this ring worth more than many small castles.
The lord is growing upset now. He whispers something to the guard nearest him. Something about throwing the impertinent bastard out and smashing his instrument. The lady quickly countermands those orders. It seems that she has taken a fancy to the looks of this minstrel who possesses the arrogance of a king.
Finally, the minstrel begins to play. He starts with only a few notes in a simple chord. Quickly he introduces a new cord and yet another all the while playing the original as well. Next he blends each of the chords together to create a single chord that is far more than the sum of the original chords.
The nobles begin to whisper amongst themselves. "Surely he can't be playing that by himself. Look for the other players. By the gods, he must have sold his soul to play so well." At that reference I know who we are listening to.
We have the rare opportunity to listen to the performance of Lerris Darksong. A true bard of elven heritage and upbringing. Many have sworn that even for an elf he is too perfect to believe. His looks rival that of the very gods and not even a bard may play that well.
By this time Lerris has stopped playing only instrumentals. He begins to sing a ballad of two lost loved ones seeking to reunite but barred by a curse. I'm told that this is his own song and that this is only the short version. Just when every listener begins to see what is happening in his mind's eye, a mist appears in front of Lerris and unveils a vision of the story. The nobles, quieted by the beauty of the song, now fall completely silent. Lerris draws the song and illusion to a wondrous close and the servants brighten the lanterns. The lord and lady are speechless. Finally the lady recovers first.
"By the highest gods. I have never heard of nor seen such excellence. You have but to name your price for the entertainment that you have provided for us this night and it is yours."
The lord then intervenes, "Forget only tonight, what price would you set upon staying here as our bard for a more permanent position?"
Lerris slowly stands and speaks in his melodious voice, "With regrets, I can accept no permanent position, for my songs find their power in freedom. As for what I would set upon a price for the few songs that I have played, I merely request to dine here and to be given some small amount of gold to aid me on my way to the next lord's lands."
Next there are many requests that he stays and other such nonsense. They would say none of this if they knew the truth.
The truth is that he has sold his soul. Or very nearly sold his soul, its all the same. Some time ago he made a bargain with a greater power to learn to play so well. The deal was that when he died he would indeed lose his soul. The dark power, however, was more treacherous. Instead of requiring his soul, the dark power tried something else. After teaching him to play, sing, and combine illusions with his performance the dark Power made him an offer. If Lerris would but remove the ring that the Power gifted him with from his finger and place it upon another, thus damning that person (whomever it may be), Lerris would be elevated to the master of all music and bardic arts.
Lerris refused but the Power, rather than being upset, merely said that the offer stands until he chooses it. As an added bonus Lerris would not age until he made his choice so he wouldn't have to hurry his choice.
The power also haunts his dreams trying to tip his hand. Every night, during the short time that he allows himself to sleep, his reverie is filled with beautiful music and the knowledge that it could all be his should he fulfill his end of the bargain.
I would not wish to be in his place myself. I often wonder if he would consider the choices he has made to be worth all the trouble. I bet not.
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