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Legacy of Dragonholt» Forums » Sessions

Subject: Lance Blackwater - A writing experiment based on LoD rss

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Luc Hermans
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Hi there,

I'm an aspiring writer who's been trying to pick up the pace again after a couple of years of low output caused by the usual. I bought Legacy of Dragonholt and thought it would be helpful to use my solo adventures in Legacy of Dragonholt as a lead to write a short story. I'm not sure how this will turn out, as I've not yet finished any of the scenarios, but I'm curious.

This may or may not be the best medium to display my work, but seeing that I wish to honor the game for what it is (= a game which relies heavily on the narrative), I thought it would be fitting to make a tribute this way. I thought this place would be one of the best to find fans of Dragonholt. In a way, this will be a collection of reports based upon my experiences with LoD.

Obviously, there will be names, locations and terms solely associated with the Terrinoth universe. Publisher Fantasy Flight Games holds the intellectual rights and I do not wish to infringe them. There will, however, be unique names, but mostly in the part where I describe my character before the actual adventure starts. Evidently, there will be spoilers in my posts.

My tribute starts off with an elaborate description of the person of this tale. This description includes the race, the class, the skills (which will be underlined), a physical description and a background story.

I mostly do this for myself, but I find the temptation too strong not to give it a try.

Should this be inappropriate to the creators of this game, please feel free to share your remarks and have the contents removed.

Lance Blackwater - A bard's tale

Part 1: Introduction

My name is Lance of Blackwater and I’ve seen many places and heard and shared many tales. It is only fitting for a bard. The world is such a marvelous place if you know where to look, listen or taste. I composed songs which I later sung to nobles and commoners alike. I literally live to tell the tale. My life may not sound as thrilling as a knight’s tale or a sage’s experience with runes, but mine is the one that touches the soul. In a way, I’m a messenger of deeds and happenings already passed. It is honorable work, for it allows people to forget their daily routines and headaches. You seem interested in mine in particular, so let me tell you of a time when I was younger. Sit down and I’ll share a drink with you, for there is much to tell.

How would I describe myself? A dreamer first and foremost, idealistic and altruistic by nature. I was born of uncertain parents, both of them human. As you can see, I have brown eyes, brown hair, tanned skin and a trimmed beard. My earliest memories go back to Blackwater Orphanage in the Free City of Tamalir. Yes, my surname was based on that blasted place, but then again I never bothered to change it. I didn’t like it there, just like any other sensible person would, and by my tenth year I decided to elope. Foolish, of course, but I readily chose the hard way rather than setting aside my convictions. Life was hard, I admit. My willpower was all which kept me going. You never ever get truly accustomed to getting kicked every once in a while, especially if you’re being robbed of whatever meager possessions you might have had. No matter how hard life was, I still deemed it better than how the wicked personnel at the orphanage treated the children. I pride myself with the fact that I never ever stole, not even resorting to so much as stealing an apple. Instead, I relied heavily on reasoning and streetwise skills. You’d think I’d lose my faith in humanity, but that’s not the case. I’ve witnessed deeds of cruelty for sure, but I never lost my sense of empathy. I shared my gains with a couple of beggar friends. Such bonds are truly unbreakable and their passing to their own deprivations saddened me deeply. You might have heard of the song “Three Beggars and a Blanket”? I wrote it in their honor, though I did not use their names. It was actually the first song I ever wrote and it proved to be my salvation.

You see, after a while, I started getting odd jobs. As a young lad, it was easy to find menial tasks, such as cleaning chamber pots of ramshackle inns. They pay was awful, but at least I had a roof over my head. The owner of the inn heard me singing and he liked it so much he forced me, not ask, to perform the same song later that evening in front an audience of rowdy men and women. Much to my own surprise, the song I performed seemed to immerse them completely, leaving them unaware of their surroundings. It was in that instant that I knew my voice had the ability to enthrall others. I left in the dead of night and, having heard of the bardic college, I decided to try and test my luck. I presented what little money I had and they, upon hearing my singing voice, decided to let me join their lessons. There I learned a great deal of history on top of songs, musical training and poems. For example, I learned of the First, Second, Third and Fourth Darkness as elaborate as any aspiring sage. As I concluded my training in the arts of music, I chose the violin as my instrument of choice. I deemed it better for the songs and stories I performed. It has the wondrous ability to change from frivolous to grave and from hopeful to utter despair in a matter of seconds. In addition, I chose to become a bard combining storytelling, singing and the play of the violin, all done separately so as to create the atmosphere I wanted for my crowd.

You will have noticed by now that I’m not a man of the muscle, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t know how to fight. The college had its combat tutors as well, for the world is a wild and dangerous road if travelled regularly. A man of my trade must be able to fend off the occasional brigand, right? That’s when I honed my dueling skills with a rapier. Stylish and very cliché, I know, but at least I know how to use it and I will use it to skewer the nose of any would-be ruffian.

It did take some time to gain some fame, which is the life or death of a bard, but I worked hard and toured extensively. I travelled, listened to people’s stories, the local legends and folklore and deeper history before moving on to the next settlement, whether it be a hamlet or a metropolis. I was touring in Nerekhall when I first came into contact with the lovely Celyse. It was an awful place, but she was the beacon of light in a tunnel of dark waste. I was honored to call her my friend, but I craved for more. I think she never noticed, but she was indeed the love of my life. My apologies. I’m a bit of an old romantic. I spent a great deal of months with her. She listened to the stories I had gathered and siphoned into song, music and storytelling structures. After a while it became clear that she would go to Dragonholt, a place I had never heard of before, and it pained me to decline her invitation to come with her. I had made certain commitments to my future customers and I could not break my word for the sake of my heart, but we promised to keep in touch by means of letters. I would come looking for her when I had the time and resources to travel to Dragonholt. I bade her goodbye and prayed, though I’m not a religious person, that we would meet again.

That’s where my story begins.
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