"20 pts on self","50","60","Ashlander bard recounts a tale from Hammerfell.","Tear (though its song describes Lainlyn, Hammerfell)","Dunmer, Redguard"
A mason's song
Some fifteen years ago, I met a bard with the strangest of all
stories to tell. Born an ashlander, his view to life was very different
from mine and most of the surrounding mer folk as well. Perhaps that is
why he fascinated me with such a great influence.
Although old and withered now, Fainissibi had once
travelled through all Tamriel, gathering a great many stories from the
land's humble folk. After twenty elven years of living among commoners,
earning one's bread by doing masonry in Imperial forts, near new-found
ore deposits, and plowing the corkbulb fields of Morrowind and Black
Marsh, he chose to settle down in one of the most beautiful cities of
eastern Morrowind, Tear. There he still sings and entertains the visitors
of the Crimson Cutlass tavern.
After many miles of travelling horseback from Alten Corimont
to Tear, our party leader decided to make an expedition to the local
taverns. We, being paid by following orders, had the opportunity of
once again following, and perhaps saving him from a plethora of
problems with the authorities. We began by drinking fine sujamma in
the Hanging Argonian. Perhaps even too fine - Enhyn had gotten his
"let us conquer the Black Marsh" drive on and promptly stated that
if he should ever encounter a free Argonian of prosperous stature,
the beast be slain on the spot. After another round in the Lizard
Carcass, a rather shady trader inn underground, our master was
already too lushed to think clearly, and was ready to conquer
Elsweyr too. Then we finally arrived to the Crimson Cutlass.
There an elder Dark Elf sat, against the wall, with several
tired journeymen 'round him on small stools. Enhyn had always been
fond of heroic epics described and portrayed by poets who had seen
it all, and this mer certainly had the looks. The man, whom people
addressed as Fainissibi, sang:
"Laying tiles for days, 'side the abundant hills of Lainlyn
Working with an ogre's pace, amongst others there was Barin
A race of Redguard, strongest of the lot
Even he could not stand the burden of the job.
One day we were a'working on the eastern wall
for had our captain commanded us, "It shall cover the glade by
nightfall"
So we toiled, toiled hard, from dusk till sunset glow
But as the darkness drew near, it seemed we could not finish the last row.
Thus Barin, eager and strong still, went to the captain's camp on the side of
the hill.
He climbed down from the slight spire and to the stand
While descending down, he did not see the rope's other end
and clung to it as he fell.
Rope attached to the ground and wall, fresly masorned, came crumbling
apart.
For his faith to see mere twenty-five times of warmth, no more
Yet from life, he knew what to expect for
Dreams of a man, and past, struck down by the eastern wall of a mine
built to last.
So it went and the story was told on the taverns of Hammerfell
How a laborer was struck down hard, struck down like a spell
Though a man of little stature, Barin was no fool
And there he rests, in the pit of Lainlyn, bottomless and cruel."
Enhyn, as expected, had gotten very furious even before the
fourth verse and had left the tavern swinging from side to side,
apparently ending up back in the Hanging Argonian. I did not pay
attention to him, though, being mesmerized by the story Fainissibi
had told and those yet to come.
You might wonder, why is one measly bard so fascinating
that he deserves to be praised in a book. It is exactly the same
reason many others thought of Fain - why would a good-mooded
patron want to hear a story of a laborer being grotesquely
splashed by a ton of bricks?
It has been said by many, echoed by Fain among others, that every being
is worth a song, and that is why the outcast bard of Erabenimsun tribe
was so remarkable and struck to me as a gentle mind amongst the stressed
and bad-habited people of these days. Sometimes, stories of one's
failure give meaning and faith to others.
A Mason's Song (Charm)
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