Role

Chapter 1

Was the life of minstrels reduced to that of petty immitations?

Was the voice of men capable of no more than limiting themselves?

Was there not more to achieve by pitch than to learn to sing of fiends in
immitations of fearstriking demon-tones or playing healer to warriors who
swung their sword on trees and torsos alike...?

Upon his travels Frajalar fashioned five masks that spelled and spilled out
his aims and roles, for the life of a minstrel was not just that one one who
sang to please his master and cheer his mates...

The first mask: The Chronicler - The chronicler was one who kept tab of the
events that passed and made note of the changes that affected society.
It was his account of events and tales that he listed with his quill and
duely captured in ink on paper that would grant inspiration to generations of
priests and poets, warriors and warlocks. The tales they could draw stength
from of legends they could look up to. The mistakes of history that should
never be repeated, the changes in politics that changed the face of society.

The second mask: The Satirist - A harp might not be the sharpest instrument
for revolution and change, but it was perhaps the brightest. The minstrel
knew that he could not charge into battle to commander honor and respect, to
demand courage and strength or even bring parity or fairness to battles that
deserve. Yet he had the power of verse, verse that with caustic humor would
make people laugh and have way throught their chuckling realize that their
chortling was aimed at their own sordid deeds...laughter that would soon
turn into self-introspection, self-introspection that would lead to self
discovery...To a point when each man would do...what he must.

The third mask: The Traveller - The choricler cannot exist until the traveller
is born. For to know what passes the traveller must tresspass into spaces
ere unchartered and unknown. He must bribe. He must nudge. He must prod. He
must pry. He must sniff about for information and keep an eye out as he walks
through dark tunnels to know... To know all that is meant to be unknown.
A harp by the warmth of fire, singing sweet songs of legends, cannot exist
until the fingers that wield that harp have been fists that have fought along
side those legends. For all tale heard and passed on always lose their charm
and are nothing but immitations of immitations of the truth...

The fourth mask: The Entertainer - Few have the gift of a voice that can
create both dread and cheer, like that of a Minstrel. It is his to bring
pleasure to the weary and the sick. It is his to lighten up the fire with
his strumming and add panache to a sip of ale with his song and verse.
His song can move the audience to tears, for catharsis sometimes is much
better than laughter, and his song and make others roll with laughter, we
know that there is no better medicine than that. It is said that the best
way to feel good about oneself is to make others feel good...well said.

The fifth and final mask: The Poet - The mask of the Poet is the irony and
the paradox of the Minstrel's life. To achieve his feats as a chorlicler, a
satirist, an entertainer and the traveller...he is required to indulge in
verse and tale...that stem from the fith mask of being a poet. Ye