Fourth Movement: Battlefield

2nd of Hakim 242 AC
 
As we finished our brief respite, the fact that each of us had their own unique strengths and talents became abundantly clear once more. In the time it had taken me to rest my aching body and briefly summarize the day’s events, Alizée had apparently liberated everything that had not been nailed down from the remains of our slain foes – and, in the case of the wooden constructs, quite a few things thad had, in fact, been nailed down. I suppose when one is born into fame and fortune, acting on opportunities wherever and whenever they may arise quickly becomes second nature.
Speaking of resource-oriented division of labour: Yuri, Siham and Oro’thion utilized their combined brains and brawn to open the needlessly enormous central door by activating hourglass-like structures scattered across this level of the tower. Thank the gods that they did, for if it had been up to me, we would still be sitting there. Like I have mentioned previously, I am profoundly useless at riddles. They are annoying, obnoxious, detract from the main narrative (but not in the flowery, elegant way a bardic hymn does) and, worst of all, they hardly ever rhyme properly.
If you, constant listener, have been following my accounts for any appreciable amount of time, you might have inferred by now that I am stalling for time again. You are, of course, correct.
I would love to tell you that I joined the ensuing battle with a war cry on my lips and an eruption of valor bursting from my heart. That I delved into the darkness of the sanctum in which Dibarra was expecting us, illuminated only by my trusty bullseye lantern, with fierce determination to save the seven abducted children being imprisoned therein. That I used all my cunning and strength, utilizing magic and weaponry and even my bare hands to fight off Dibarra and his shadowy minions, all the while encouraging my allies and healing my fallen comrades.
All of those things could be construed as true from an outside perspective. Any bard worth their salt would consider such an account a fair, if not downright mandatory, enhancement of the truth. A mere week ago, I might have been among their number; and in regards to anyone other than myself, I still might be. Alas, the truth of the matter is this: I found myself, woefully unprepared, thrust into a battle which, in all honesty, I was not sure we could win; the capabilities of my mighty allies notwithstanding.
The darkness and the terror, the screams and the shadows, the wounded and the slain.
Alizée recklessly charging into the fray with her elementally charged acrobatics.
Siham’s fists, flickering too fast for my eyes to follow.
Oro’thion doing… something to his own face, allowing him to charge at our foes with renewed vigor.
Yuri summoning a trident-like weapon from Gods-know-where to drive the enemy back.
Aurelie casually constructing a cannon out of whatever materials were around – and, anyway, she started blasting.
On the flipside: the shadowy things, tearing at our very essence and sapping our strength; the children in desperate need of (but, sadly, sometimes beyond) saving; Dibarra bearing down on us with waves upon waves of magical destruction.
What was I, a lowly bard, to do, faced with such a rondo of death? I had fought battles alongside my compatriots before, of course, but this made everything I had encountered before look like mere child’s play. As I stood there, frozen to the spot for what seemed like an eternity (yet which could, realistically, not have been much more than eighteen or twenty-four seconds), a sudden thought flashed through my paralyzed brain: a quote from one of the B’n’B characters Aeris had once played for a one-shot, “Do, or do not. There is no try.”
On the one hand, that had been an off-the-cuff remark from a silly make-believe role-playing game.
On the other hand, why the fuck not?
So, I finally got my (as a reference for any other bards singing of this: rather handsome) posterior into gear and, as one of my Dramatics 201 instructors would have put it, got busy livin’.
We did, in fact, get busy livin’; successfully banishing Dibarra into the pompously ominous hourglass dominating the sanctuarium – although we did not manage to save all of the imprisoned children. While all of us were, naturally, saddened by this suboptimal turn of events, Oro’thion seemed to have been affected by it the most. Apart from some lip service to Gond in my youth, I have never been a particularly religious man, but while I am a part of this particular group, it does occassionally occur to me how difficult it must be to continuously align one’s own beliefs with the harshness of reality.
At any rate, after we successfully banished Dibarra into that weird (and, as an aside, not particularly stable looking) hourglass device, we got our lay of the land (i.e. looted everything) before returning home, following the rescued children’s example (i.e. remembering where we ought to be).
Awash with relief and happiness and joy to be alive, several background facts were shared within the as-of-yet unnamed group. None of which, dear constant listener, should be of concern to you for the time being. I will sing of all my companions, according to their respective permissions, in due time.
I will, however, point out the fact that Yuri is spending the night in my humble abode. I think he would do fantastically in any BnB session; but I would never try to persuade him into joining me in such hopeless an endeavor.
I think.
I realize that I am, once again, rambling, but I do beg your, constant listener’s, forgiveness – it has been a very long day indeed.