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Flagon for the Dragon
Justinime Mosely was in deep contemplation; recently he was often in deep contemplation.  It had been two months since the incident, but he could not get it off his mind.  Some had been good with bargaining, some with swords, others with bows, but his was music.  He was a traveling minstrel.  That in itself was a good thing as it was bad.  Last time he took out his fiddle due to the majestic beauty of the mountains caused him to be trapped by a pair of giants.  He thought he was done for, he was in utter terror and froze in place, but like all things there was a reason and purpose to such.  Just as he was frozen in place, he witnessed one of the most shocking things he ever saw in his entire thirty-five years of existence.  He needed the story to be heard, and thus as he blinked he came forth to the present.
The fragrant smoky aroma of slowly roasted lamb wafted up his nostrils as the warmth of the hearth in a bustling tavern was underway.  On front of him was a rowdy audience of the “Bread and Mead” tavern in the old district of Summerose. 
Justinime tuned his fiddle and jestingly tested his voice, “Hey diddle diddle, its me and my fiddle.”
The crowd grew restless and grumbled about, when Justinime started the ballad in a Bo-Diddley beat with its hip 3-2 clave pattern,
“Kymil Durothil is a sorcerer supreme
He does not shout nor scream
He is as calm as can be
As he rescues you or me
He ventures through the tall grass
To save a scared lass
He boldly goes through the lake
Simply for someone else’s’ mistake
He goes up the mountain path
To free the villagers from the giants wrath
The giants may be big and tall
Kymil dropped one with a great big fall
He commanded the other to get on his merry way
Never to harm, hit, or trouble on the pathway
Kymil Durothil surely has the blood of the dragon
And to him I shall toast my flagon”
The rowdy crowd had stirred down and amazingly had come to utter silence by the beginning of the recital.  Once the last prose was completed a crescendo of applauses was met by a standing ovation and shouts of, “I need a flagon for the dragon”, and “Dragon Flagon…. Dragon Flagon… Dragon Flagon…” was rhythmically pounded on the oak table by a group of youngsters.
Justinime Mosely could care less about the applause and accolades as he returned to his deep contemplation and recalled the words of the dragon that were etched upon his mind, “Kymil Durothil, first son of the legendary blade-master Zaknafein Durothil hailing from the village of Kalindak…”  Justinime had to discover Kalindak, the lands where the dragon was born and wanted to meet this acclaimed blade-master but above all would make his mission a mission of gratitude in honor of Kymil Durothil.
[+] 3 users Like kymil durothil's post
[+] 3 users Like kymil durothil's post
XD What a great start to the week!

Thanks Kymil!
Christopher ''The DM'' Chancey
ManaVoid Entertainment Dev Team

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