Bezzilan FarWalker the Grand Master of Artistry

Role

Chapter 6

It's strange sometimes, how life works. And perhaps that's the key: life. It's
knowing that you can plan all you want, but there are no guarantees. You can
only exist and try to exist for a bit longer, and hope that the time you have
is, if not enough, at least worthwile. But what does it mean to be worthwile?
That's the question that kept Bezzilan up at night for weeks after The Incident.
And that's how he thinks of it, now. A young and promising child, newly enrolled
at the bardic collegium, he was the pride and joy of his parents. But only a few
months into his schooling he received word that his parents had died. Not through
any violence or banditry, but simply because they hadn't known the local geography
on a trip they'd taken. Ignorance was the culprit.

Things could have gone two ways at that point. But luckily they went
toward inspiring rather than withering his lust and respect for life. He renewed
his dedication to learning, and vowed he would share his knowledge so that
others might at least have the knowledge to decide, not live in ignorance.
He feels the link he has with his sphere of water. Like him, it does not
seek to kill, but rather simply finds ways through. It flows over, around, underneath.
It goes everywhere. And it is the essence of life. So to shall he be. Never shall he
take the life of a sentient being, and if such a one attacks him, he'll flee.
He cares only to live and learn and share that learning, to flow all over thera
and find his place among the tale tellers and bards of lore.

Role

Chapter 5

Exploring and meeting new folks has taken most of Bezzilan's time, growing both
inside and out. He's discovered many new things and shared some of them. But one of
his treks took him somewhere that had a significant impact on him, and on his thinking.
He visited a monestary far up in the mountains, named after one Moudrilar.
It was during this visit that he spent time not only in the classroom, and not only
in a circle of meditation, but also in the home of the leaders, Feristle, where he was
given full access to the writings and teachings as laid down in the many books.
People are neither violent nor peaceful by nature, but choose a path of
free will, chooses peace or violence. Bezzilan spent time speaking with Feristle
and some of the others, and his thinking matured. He has chosen a path of peace. But
he, like many of the monks, is not a vegetarian. Not one who simply ignores all around him.
There are creatures and beings that while sentient, are not alive, not independent, not
souled. These are different than the folk of thera, and the adventurers who come here.
Never will he take arms against these latter, going so far as to run away should such a one
attack him. But the former, they are beyond the choice of free will, and as he travels
and learns of thera, like the flow of water he may go over the former, and bring his learning
to all, in writing and in tale.

Role

Chapter 4

Great and terrible things uplift and beset Bezzilan, as he travels and grows
in Thera. He has begun circulating his work, and that, together with a very
interesting chat with Zalenne the High Herald resulted in his fulfilling a
a dream. He's a Herald! It's exciting but also a bit scary. Nervous that
he will do a good job, fit in, make good friends, and most important find
the home he can feel comfortable in, and fulfil his other dream, to have a place
to always return to, and share what he sees and learns and finds as he
travels thera. He's also learning much about making cocktails, too. He'd
already been a good drinker, but he was a consumer, not a craftsman. That's
changing as he takes turns behind the bar. He likes it, and likes seeing the
smiles on his patrons' faces.

His spiritual growth has also gone apace, giving him both strength and challenge.
Having made his choice for peace among people, he has found great limitations.
Thera is a violent place! Even basic tasks or favors often require killing
someone, and of course he refrains, attempting to bargain or cajole or flat out
pay for what is needed. Sometimes he's successful, sometimes not. But he
refuses to resort to killing, to become a hypocrite. Interestingly, it was
during a discussion with Tarleton, the Emperor of the Empire, that an aspect of
his beliefs was clarified. Peace and violence are a choice. But they are,
they MUST be, a free choice. And each person must choose for him or herself.
As a result, he does not judge others' choices. He does not proselytize.
He will talk about his beliefs if asked, or if it comes up naturally. But he
does not start criticising others for their deeds. They must live by their
own creeds. He has chosen for himself.

Lastly, though some question his designation as friend for all he meets, he
has no doubt, no hesitation, ever. Red auras, gold auras, no auras, they mean
little or nothing to him. Each person, each real person, is a new chance to learn
a new perspective, to make a new friend, to share a tale and a drink with. His
earnestness is sincere. That does not mean he is incapable of anger or
dismay or distrust, but they come only after, as a result of someone's actions.
His first and true response is friendship. And he is relatively quick to forgive when
someone transgresses. If they continue, well... he's not above taking some bardic
revenge. Just ask Sarux the Unfortunately Small!

Role

Chapter 3

His first event! After all the dreams, the plans, the hopes,
and most important the practice, his first taletelling event
came and went famously. His goal was to make people feel welcome
at the Inn, to think of it as a place to come not only to get away
from others, but as a destination in and of itself. To feel welcome and
part of the community the Heralds have established. To feel comfortable
entertaining, and being entertained. And he thinks it worked. His tale was
obviously the best (in his own humble opinion!) but he was very gratified that
others told tales as well. Hopefully it begins an era when people know that
they can find quality showmanship and friendly times with the Heralds.
He has already decided his next two events will be themed, the
first a mystery night, the second a comedy night. Looks forward to that!

At the same time he has also been doing what he always hoped,
travelling! He's gone up and down, over and under, even into the sea!
Already he has many tales to tell, and made friends of all shapes and sizes.
He is a bit distraught that people seem to be so concerned over auras. Gold. Red.
Gray. Who knows what else? People are people. What color they might glow
doesn't interest him in the slightests, except perhaps a small amount in regard
to simple aesthetics. Some people just look better in red or gold than others.
And if he has to answer someone whether he's made of light one more time....!
Flesh and blood! Like anyone else! Though probably a bit more ale tasting
blood, he admits!

Lastly, for several years now he's been hoping to speak with
the Lady Rayihn, the Purple Lotus. He's grown quite a bit since first
seeking her out to chat, but had poor luck finding her. He isn't sure
they're a match, but he finds her terribly interesting and thinks
if nothing else it would be wonderful to chat with her and perhaps get
to know her. He'll keep trying. And even if they never do cross paths,
he loves the bathhouse, it's splendid!

Song List

Role

Chapter 2

Everything was going great. After years of looking for the lady
Rayihn, she finally found him, and in fact came to him! She came
to the Inn and they chatted some, and then she even stayed for his
second Heraldic event, Mystery Night. It was a great honor and great
fun for him, even if his second mystery was not nearly as good as his first!
He knows he will speak with her again, the talk having made him more,
not less interested in her ways. And oh, her face! Poetry won't do justcie,
but he is overwhelmed and will right of her beauty just the same.
Likewise he finally completed his guildtraining, gaining the final
title from the loremaster. An accomplishment he'd worked hard for.

Until everything was lost. A lifetime of walking the path of
peace, of dedication to the sanctity of a person's life, gone, in
an instant. "Sorry!" said Menthias, whose magic drew him into combat
with a lost soldier in the desert, and whose last breath was taken from
him with Bezzilan's blade in his gut, his lifeblood disappearing quickly
into the desert sand. "We're so sorry" chimed in Ailen and Korachath. As
if saying sorry could bring the man he'd murdered back!

Weeping, drinking, anger, shame, great great sadness. Hollowness.
Worthlessness. Failure. These are Bezzilan now. For how long, no one,
not even the gods, can know. Everything known about Bezzilan until now is
reversed. Chipper, polite, pleasant, friendly to all, happy to a fault, all
gone. Rude. Short tempered. Uncaring. Unfriendly. Get used to it, Thera.
Until he can figure out how to live with himself and his deed, that's what
you're getting.

Role

Chapter 1

Days, weeks of oafish drunken behavior all blur together for Bezzilan.
The anguish was overwhelming. The uncaring disdain for the trappings of
life and courtesy and utter lack of joy at even the things formerly most
cherished manifested not only in his interactions but in his art.
More alcohol was consumed than perhaps ever before by any human in all
Thera's history. Some depressed dwarf probably beat that, but who knows.
Wallowing in self pity kept him in the cycle of pain, a constant
two sentence mental conversation: How can you fix murdering someone? You can't.
No way out, no path to redemption. Spiraling into an abyss of despair.

Until he met with Rayihn. Where once there was resignation, she brought hope.
Where once there was surrender, she brought hope. Where once there was pain,
she brought healing. Perhaps also a knuckle shaped impression in his forehead.

He came away with more than his old spirit back though. More than simply a
return to life the day before his tragic mistake. No. He is perhaps less than
he was in some ways, but he is far, far more. As Rayihn made clear, he is
not a god. She may always be right, but it was sheer arrogance to think he
would live an infallible life. He knows that know. He has tasted the bitterness
of making the worst of all mistakes, for him. And he has come through it, with her
help. There is a wisdom there, and with this newfound depth he has a renewed
vigor to engage, to explore, to find not only sights and sounds, but perhaps meaning,
and to bring that to others.

He continues to find genuine bewilderment each time someone mentions someone being
made of light or darkness, as though we are all not flesh and blood (in his case, maybe
a bit more ale in that blood than others!). Light and dark are just things that
make it easier or harder to see. When the sun is out or it isn't, night and day.
People are not made of light or dark, they are made of their deeds, and each does as
each chooses. He has made his choice. And she is not shy of sharing that. But he
respects others' choices. He tells how he believes, but he doesn't push and push and
push. At the very least he can hope to reduce the unintended murdering, if not the
intentional. Only time will tell.

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