Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Escape from the Dancing Horse

Finally, I’m out. My Fool arrived home, kissed his darling wife, thumped his darling children, and let me out. About time, I told him. Be quiet, he said to me, you are an annoying, selfish, ignorant, self-rightous, talentless excuse for a Minstrel. I ignored him genteely and with dignity. I believe it is always better to demonstrate moral superiority than to descend to the level of uneducated obscenity that my Fool seems so to enjoy.

To celebrate my release I sang for a group of servants who were taking me around some place close to Ost Guruth. Maybe it was called Agamand, or Aagamud, some such name. Garth Agamond? Garth something I think. And there was some story about a red maiden which I found all rather confusing, but I didn’t let that bother me. When travelling with servants I find it usually better just to follow along, sing my songs, and pretend that I know all about it.

In this case one group of servants was very obliging. One, in particular, called Andywine. I think. He looked after me while I found an urn, and then looked after me while I did some thing with a vial of water, and then escorted me through a place full of nasties to talk to the red maiden. He then seemed to kill her, but she didn’t die very well, so I talked to her at the end. I think she gave me a present, or somebody else did. And other nasties were running around, and my other servants killed them as well, and I don’t think that any of them ran away at all. Well, I did, but only once, so that hardly counts. All in all, a great success, although not entirely without confusion.

The other group of servants I found just ran around and around outside the place where the red maiden was, without ever going in, and when I asked them what they were doing they didn’t answer. Ah well. I just shrugged and ran around after them so they could protect me as is their duty.

It is important to keep in mind, at all times, that a true artist must be dedicated to their calling, and remain undistracted by the tawdry reality of existence. It is the job of my servants to worry about such mundane things as quests, achievements, killing baddies, or finding the way.

It is my job to demonstrate the sublime heights of artistic and moral endeavour, not to dabble with servants in the gutter.

No comments:

Post a Comment