A World Forsaken
Music, a wandering tiefling bard raised in an elven village.
A village was destroyed as a casualty of war. Quaiss Larethaine, an Elven musician, traversed the ruins of the village. Among the embers, the corpses, and wreckage; he found a lone survivor. It was a child; peculiar he thought; It had horns, blue skin, and fangs.
Quaiss picked it up…
It didn’t object to him taking this… thing(?); and he already made up his mind to take this one to his home. He already had taken a liking to the child he found.
Quaiss called him “Music” since he taught him what he loved the most:
At first, it was hard to live in an Elven village since Music was different, very different. He was teased and shunned by all since he had what they didn’t want: horns, colored skin and fangs.
A Tiefling alone in an Elven village…
Music wasn’t alone….
He had Quaiss; the hero of his village, and the hero he looked up to.
Music had his melodies, and tunes; and at times when he felt lonely, sad or hurt; Music would play his violin. An instrument taught to him by Quaiss; its melody would always grant him happiness.
Time had taken care of what Music had been dealing with.
Time had healed early memories of his village being destroyed.
Time had taught him what made him happy.
And with time, the village had learned of Music’s ability to make lovely tunes; soon enough, he was experiencing something different from the village. The elves had taken a liking to his music, then to Music himself.
Music had learned to love not only who had taken care of him, but also the entirety of the village he now calls home. This endearment had manifested itself into his transformation. His horns had taken the form of antlers, a homage to nature and life in the forest. His skin had faded from its blue color, slightly into the fair complexion of his Elven counterparts.
He loved music, Quaiss and his village….
But time comes to change. As a bard, it was essential that Music travel to different villages and learn more about the world as well as perform what he had taken in; Inspiration; Adventure; Many more things awaited him outside his village.
Music, after saying his goodbyes, ventured on and came to see and experience his own adventures. After a few months of traveling, Music experienced a lot of great cultures outside his village. He learned how to be street smart in Lakeview; He played music for kings in the land of Estin; He found the sonnets and playwrights of the human writers and singers.
After a few months, it was time to go back home. Music was eager to show what he had learned to his friends, and family that he had left long ago; Especially Quaiss, he had lots of stories to tell, and music to perform that he had learned along the way.
Walking towards the village in the forest that was his home, he saw smoke in the distance….
Music ran in the direction of his village….
By the time he had gotten there, the houses he used to run around in have been reduced to rubble and the elves bustling around the town; now corpses, littering the streets.
His village was destroyed once more….
He thought of his beloved mentor, Quaiss….
He ran towards his home…
Only to find it in shambles; smoke, slowly rising from the cinders of what used to be where he spent his most memorable days.
Music began digging among the ruins of his home.
His mind filled with the memories of his childhood; with Quaiss.
Thinking of the moments Quaiss taught him how to play the violin.
Music’s precious fingers hurting from lifting scalding debris…
He heard a bloodcurdling scream from a house nearby!
He bolted towards the source!
His eyes lit up…
A house, burning in front of his eyes…
Music thought it might have been Quaiss, or at least a survivor in the village.
Searching frantically around the house he found what he wanted to see the most…
But not in the way that he pictured it to be…
Quaiss, with a sword in one hand…
and a torch in the other…
From a body collapsed in front of Quaiss, his sword slowly being pulled out from the fresh corpse. The dead body hitting the ground with a sickening thud accompanied by maniacal laughter.
Quaiss turned around and looked at Music, his eyes devoid of feeling; his sword, face and garments stained in blood; and the house behind him roaring in flames…
That was the last scene that Music had remembered. Music collapsed.
The moment he woke up, he was in chains. His clothes were rags and his head throbbing in pain. His beloved violin was nowhere to be found.
From the other prisoners, he had learned that he was found alone in an Elven village burned to the ground. The only survivor when it was found razed out of existence. He was taken in as a slave after he was told to be the one who destroyed his own village. Slaughtering his own friends and family, and setting fire to their homes for his own amusement.
That’s as far as the rumors go….
Music leaned on the iron bars of the slave carriage and started to hum his favorite song; alone, once again.