There is a tale told across the land of a love born of fire and passion that burned so bright that the gods themselves took notice. The tale tells of an Elven swordsman who had devoted everything to the world, wandering the land alone helping those in need. This swordsman had a habit of showing up just when times were darkest and bringing people back into the light and so since no-one ever knew his name they called him “The Blade of Dawn”
The Blade travelled the land and drove back the darkness wherever he found it but gave no thought to himself, he had given his life to others. So Dol Arrah reached down and nudged the faithful swordsman just enough and he found himself in a tavern on a dark and stormy night just like this one and on stage, stood a bard.
While I consider myself fair of face indeed of course compared to the beauty who took the stage that fateful I am a mewling monster. The human woman danced with a grace that turned elves green with envy and a voice that rang out clear and strong as her fingers danced across her instruments and stole the hearts of all around her. In the corner a man who had never given thought to himself stirred, moved by the bards beauty and song and as he saw through her eyes the beauty too within her for the first time he lamented his solitude.
And so that night the blade left with a heavy heart, he saw suitors lined up by the stage their flowery words to woo the bard and gifts for her beauty filling the air but he was a man of action not words and nothing to offer but a life of danger and nothing to give but the clothes on his back. So it came to pass that the Blade sat sleeping beneath a tree just outside the town, the rain pattering off his cloak and the tree’s leaves when he was awakened by a pressure on his arm!
His normally keen senses having failed him and a potential enemy so close already, too close for a true strike the Blade woke with a rush reaching for a dagger in his belt before he was able to identify his assailant. Hand on the blade he looked for an opening and to the cheek of a woman curled against his arm who replied “Stop moving I’d just gotten comfortable”
For you see the Blade was not the only one looking into eyes that night and from that very first she saw the good in him, that which he kept hidden from all others and as the two settled back the Blade found himself filled with the joy the Bard seemed to carry everywhere with her and for the first time was truly happy.
From that day on the two were inseparable, they wandered the lands from the furthest seas to the highest mountains and wherever they went the joy of the Bards song raised spirits and the Blade cut down those who would harm the lands people and towns far and wide came to rejoice at the sight of the blonde swordsman and the flame haired minstrel, she who was his heart, and he who was her steel.
Time however waits for no man and in due course the Bard’s years caught her far swifter than the dashing Blade and he was eventually forced to leave her side after all those years, leaving behind an unmarked site, for no fanfare was needed as he would always carry her in his heart and now no force could stay his hand for he had to fight twice as hard to bring the joy she no longer did to the world. For Dol Arrah had given him such joy that he swore eternal fealty and stalked the land for those who would bring pain and injustice.
And that is the end of my tale, or perhaps not, some say the Blade walks the land still, they say he stands as the Eternal Guardian of the lands she loved so much, the chosen Champion of the Goddess as he strives to earn his place at her side and be with his love once more.
