Serpentis Family/Durion/Sad But True
The Black Dragon received the orders, but he waited before sending the soldiers. Instead, they sat around the fire to enjoy a good meal. One of the soldiers liked to watch the stars, especially drunk, when he swore to see funny pictures moving in patterns. Most of them just swallowed the beer of Trinbar, sharpening their scalp-daggers. The veterans scratching their tangled beards with rings of defeated enemies. They were spoils collectors. Dürion sat there among them reading some letters with no worries. His men were good killers, but dumb enough to not read a line. He was still intrigued by the letters of Lady Elena.
They were interrupted by the arrival of a strange bard. The young man was dressed as a typical Montijo's commoner with a lute in his hands. All the way he thought about not tremble in face of the savagery of feared soldiers. His attempt was almost useless; they weren't like others. The reverence was respectful. The Silver Dragon had many bards, maybe his son could enjoy a good talent. A true noble must have a bard.
Bard: "Glorious Margrave, I have a song for you and......."
Dürion Eyolf: "Show me."
The presentation was brutally interrupted. The bard nodded and cleared his throat, making the first sounds replenish the night.
No one knows what it's like,
To be the bad man
To be the sad man,
behind draconian eyes
No one knows what it's like,
to be hated
To be fated,
to telling only lies
But my dreams they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance, that's never free
No one knows what it's like, to feel these feelings
Like I do, and I blame you
No one bites back as hard, on their anger
None of my pain or woe, can show through
When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool
And if I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
And if I shiver, please give me your blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat
No one knows what it's like,
to be the bad man
To be the sad man,
behind draconian eyes
Everyone was in complete silence when the song ended. Dürion had a severe expression. The bard had done a good job. An excellent work. Too much.
Dürion Eyolf: "What's your name, bard?"
Bard: "Galiard, M'Lord..."
Dürion Eyolf: "Kill him. We have to move."
Galiard: "WHAT???"
Dürion Eyolf: "I don't like bards."
Galiard was surrounded by wolfish grins. The Dark Ones pushed him into the fire, listening to him scream with his pretty voice. Another kind of song. Much more inflamed. They opened up space and saw the man dancing like a crazy torch. The last soldier to come into formation ended the suffering with a strong thrust of his sword.
The Dark Ones would march again.
