Dr.Nekoshu
Confuse. Improvise. Overcome.
There are many tales storytellers would gladly speak of around a fire or the surroundings of a tavern, many tales that bards would write songs of, many tales that writers would beg for the chance to put it on paper. Tales of great armies that were lead by extraordinary commanders who slew many greater than them all to fulfill a great purpose set to them…
Tales of mere men who became legend by slaying great beasts, by being gifted power by the gods to end an evil curse laid upon the land by an evil far more than they could have ever hoped to defeat…
And of course tales of the horrific, tales that most would wish forgotten, but are passed down by worshippers of evil, or those who were cursed to bear the tale as a memory of a darker era…
But aside from one rare tale, you never hear of one thing that makes all of this possible, no tale of something so common but so influential in these stories. Something that without it, none of these tales would have likely existed or made their way into speculation of myth or history. No tales…
… of the mere common folk. No tales of the blacksmith who crafted a Hero’s first shield that later protected that hero from an untimely demise and end to their story. No tales for the wondrous alchemist and healer who saved the Great General from death’s doorstep before he was able to complete his journey and brought his plan to fruition. No tale for the trader who did their best to sway one who would later be seen as Dark Lord from their path of destruction before he had ever set out on it and was then later spared by that same Dark Lord if only to serve as a reminder that times were not always good.
Luckily, this is going to be one of those tales as the small and mixed city of Lezzandor was about to receive one ambitious trader with plans to put himself and a new guild on the map, with a single wagon, a small number of items to sell, and a scroll meant for the mayor, he was about to do just that…
Tales of mere men who became legend by slaying great beasts, by being gifted power by the gods to end an evil curse laid upon the land by an evil far more than they could have ever hoped to defeat…
And of course tales of the horrific, tales that most would wish forgotten, but are passed down by worshippers of evil, or those who were cursed to bear the tale as a memory of a darker era…
But aside from one rare tale, you never hear of one thing that makes all of this possible, no tale of something so common but so influential in these stories. Something that without it, none of these tales would have likely existed or made their way into speculation of myth or history. No tales…
… of the mere common folk. No tales of the blacksmith who crafted a Hero’s first shield that later protected that hero from an untimely demise and end to their story. No tales for the wondrous alchemist and healer who saved the Great General from death’s doorstep before he was able to complete his journey and brought his plan to fruition. No tale for the trader who did their best to sway one who would later be seen as Dark Lord from their path of destruction before he had ever set out on it and was then later spared by that same Dark Lord if only to serve as a reminder that times were not always good.
Luckily, this is going to be one of those tales as the small and mixed city of Lezzandor was about to receive one ambitious trader with plans to put himself and a new guild on the map, with a single wagon, a small number of items to sell, and a scroll meant for the mayor, he was about to do just that…
