Role

Chapter 2

Leaving the circus, he went to Galadon, where his delicate features and
melancholic voice made him a welcome performer at the local bars. The
coin he made there was put primarily toward his education and training--
purchasing any books he could find, as well as lessons with the sword
and other blades. Of course, our protagonist had become rather vain by
this time, so he always found the coin for the latest styles in clothing
and he took to using makeup to accent his features.

As a performer, he came to recognize all types of folks--the black hearted
and the criminal and those who saw themselves as pillars of righteousness.
Each was well enough on their own, but it was when they gathered in
like-minded groups that the prospects for danger arose. Put five men who
think alike together, and they'll soon convince themselves of the most
dangerously flawed ideas. And then it would no longer be safe to perform
at that inn for some time, while the radicals ran amok setting things up
the way they thought was right. No, no. A healthy discourse was always best.
After a time, Talisin had learned what he could, and squirred away enough
coin for some time. The urge to wander had returned, and was he not soon
to be an adult?

His wanderings this time were less charmed than before, for frequently
he was set upon by foes--bandits after his coin, or priests angling for
his soul--and, though he came to enjoy the thrill of combat, it seemed
to Talisin that he was constantly surrounded by the stench fo death.
whenever he made camp for the night, he would sing to himself, but the
songs took on darker tones, reflective of the journey.

And with that, I think it is time for a break, while we all wet our throats
some.

The elderly bard strums his guitar once more for emphasis, and looks out
at his small audience, before standing and drifting back to the bar for
a drink.