The Journal of Tchazzar Tal’Amor
It’s been six months since I came to this forsaken land full of pompous knights and their bloody minstrels. Honestly, who is accompanied by two flutes and a harp wherever he goes? The minstrels play all bloody day, you think that would be enough practice, how are they not in tune? GODS.
Ahem… I digress.
Three days ago a fool of a thief fell from the top of a bell tower – and here I thought elves were supposed to be graceful. As the guards hauled his bloody body away, I thought him never to be seen again; how I ended up on a quest for Sir Music with that elf, a human swashbuckler and half-elf ranger is beyond my comprehension. Is this how adventures start? Nevertheless, it’s good to be out of the city for awhile with nothing but the open road ahead of us and four pissed off knights behind us. At least they have to walk.
I get ahead of myself.
By some strange (mis)fortune, my flat in the city was infested by bees – why is it always bees? The closest inn I could find had but one common room available; what the swashbuckler and ranger were doing at that inn and in that room is a mystery, maybe one best left unanswered. Fate seemed to have it in for us, however, as we all left the inn at the same time that Mr. Bell-Tower (Baab apparently) woke up in a nearby alley. Who knows how he got away from the guards – maybe he fell on them. We roused Baab in time for Sir Not-in-Tune to pass by. Somehow he became intrigued by our rag-tag band and invited us to a garden party – a garden party with the princess. The kingdom may want to reconsider whom they knight, unless it is customary to invite rugged, armed, and unknown street-people to rub elbows with the city’s noble elite. At least I knew some of them.
Inevitably, as so often happens with knights and drink, our band quickly became the subject of a wager between Sir High Horse and second knight with four would-be-champions. The bet: whatever group reaches a blasted-pit, picks a flower and gets back first, wins. Why couldn’t it have been for treasure? Nonetheless, we seemed to have nothing to lose by accepting.
We departed the next day with two bards in tow. The city was but a shadow on the horizon when Baab decided it was time to insult the honor of one of these would-be-knights. Cue a duel, if it can even be called that – I have to give it to Baab, he took the Red Knight down in a flash. This disgrace alone would have slowed our opponents down enough for us to win, but inspiration took us that night as Hobart Jr. (the ranger) took their horses. We’ll have to watch our backs.
It’s going to be a good adventure.