Role

Chapter 1

A group of children, the youngest among the Balator orphanage, sat gathered
in rows around the ancient knight Jaragh. He was reaching the end of his
tale, and all the toddlers stared with rapt attention as they sat
criss-cross-monk-of-moudrilar style on the floor.

"And then..." roared Jaragh, "The ancient Knight of Shokai, in utter
dismay that the priestess of Raisa had fallen at his side, CHARGED the black
dragon, knowing his doom!"

All the toddlers gasped. The little toddler Lyrien leaned forward.

"The dragon reared back its mighty head, as its gaping maw breathed forward
a blast of acid!" Jaragh shouted. "The holy knight raised his shield to
deflect, confident and knowing his purpose! But...: Jaragh warned,
"The ancient dragon uttered a spell, and darkness descended on the knight,
who lost all sense of where and when the attack was coming!"

Jaragh slammed the book shut, clearly having memorized the last part of this
favorite tale.

All the toddlers jumped. Lyrien clenched her little fists.

"The dragon roared! The spittle hissed! And the righteous knight screamed
in agony as he MELTED to the floor alongside his beloved priestess of
Raisa!"

The toddlers screamed. At least three wailed. Another was curled in a ball in
a corner.

Jaragh, not really trained in the art of toddler and oblivious, beamed as
he imagined himself going out in such a righteous blaze, or at least spittle,
of glory. "And so did the righteous knight die fighting against the darkness
as was his purpose!"

Old ancient Jaragh, lost in his own nostalgia, suddenly came to his senses.
"Bedtime everyone!" he said, a little perplexed at the room full of crying
toddlers. Bedside manners, perhaps literally, was not the knight's strongest
virtue.

Amidst the wailing and still shaking toddlers, a young female elven toddler
sat with a smile on her face, still yet lost in her imagination of the tale.

Lyrien dreamed herself one of the legends in the old knight's stories,
fighting against the darkness.