//Something I wrote when I had a Bard/Fighter long ago in Layonara.
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In every Inn and Tavern you can hear our tale.
You sit there and listen while sipping your ale.
We sing of epic victories.
And of tremendous tragedies.
We sing of love, so kind and so pure.
We sing of hatred and evil, so dark and demure.
I have sung of the brave halfling with the stunning steel. (Lyta Winterwound)
And of the Monk so quick and fleet, even the wind cannot feel. (Xiao)
The Man Cat whose pride is too large to get around. (Jhereg)
And the Dwarf, Flaming Axe in hand who never would back down. (Gotak)
Our songs can inspire many women and men,
But who will sing of the Bard at days end?
One day I shall fade into dust and be gone.
But the memory of my song shall alwayse live on.
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