Where the food is warm and the ale is cold,

Oxmore is home to the firm-set and bold.

Ready to repel,

and faithful to no realms,

a soldier of Oxmore always answers the bell.

In large tankards we pour,

Because Oxmore faces war...

In large tankards we pour,

Because Oxmore faces war...

A traveling bard,

and to him not scarred.

Gifted as poetic,

some might say angelic.

How shall Oxmoore be remembered,

for when it ash and ember?

Play song about…?

"With the streets covered in grime,

the people exhaust their time."

"They toil away,

for such a meager pay."

"For we are all on our own,

while nobles cling to their thrones,

waiting as Oxmore becomes city of bone."

Continue...?

"Walk along the streets of Oxmore!

Where the citizens all adore!

And its pleasantries stretch to the core!"

"Take a breath of fresh air,

for its as pure as the silverware!"

"And the food! The wonderful food!

And dont forget the finest brew!"

"Take a blind eye to the dark cruel world,

that threatens to unfurl,

and walk along the streets of Oxmore!"

Continue...?

*The door on the left building crashes open*

"What is that shrill, vile, WARBLE!"

"You."

"Don’t ever release another babble

from that ghoul raising mouth of yours."

"Who are you? A bard?

No wonder you lie through your teeth!"

*The noble walks back to her abode

and slams the door*

*The door to a tavern opens,

and the keeper steps out*

"Good stuff.

The people at my bar would like it.

We have an opening tonight."

"Show up if you’re interested."

*The tavern keeper walks back

and shuts the door*

*A noble steps out of their home.*

"What is this beauty that tickles my ear!

This opulence of lyrical authenticity!"

"You? A bard!

A bard fit for an audience of royalty!

Prithee play at the palace tonight, I beg of you!"

*The noble walks back to her abode

and closes the door*

*The door to a tavern opens,

and the keeper steps out*

"Fuck off, bard"

*The tavern keeper walks back

and shuts the door*

It is time to find stories,

of sorrow or glory.

Go commit them to memory.

*You head to the infirmary*

*A soldier stands alone with

a stern look on his face*

“A bard wants to hear about

the war between Oxmore

and the neighboring kingdom?"

“Hah"

“Hah"

“Hah"

“That’s a first."

“There's a reason why I’m the

only one in the infirmary you know..."

Most infantry or cavalry that

get sent out don't make it back.

"I was smart though...

Feigned death when

I knew the battle was lost."

"Didn't even FLINCH when a

bastard stabbed me as I lay still.

...Managed to crawl my way "

back to this shithole."

"Ah… but about the war.

It’s going to be over soon.

Hope your poetry is good."

Because that’s all thats

gonna be left when they get here…

Play song about…

"There is blood soaked soil,

while the ravens have their spoil.

As the soldiers give up their last breath,

and draw swords in the face of death"

"But the tears will run dry,

as people forget how to cry,

During the great fall,

of the cobblestone walls"

*Some people weep as you play,

while others rock back

and forth in their chairs.

The room fills with clapping

and cheers when the song finishes.

The patrons drunkenly sing

the ballad throughout the night.*

*People begin to sob as the song plays,

while others glare angrily.

Many remain uncannily silent however.

As the song finishes only weeping

in the background can be heard*

"Ode, to the infantry that fight,

who represent Oxmore’s might."

"As the enemy tastes their steel,

and turns on their heels,"

"The knights of Oxmore shall never relent,

for, a civilians life will never be spent."

*People begin rolling their eyes,

while some boo, or throw insults.

As the song ends a fight starts

between a soldier and commoner*

*People start to cheer and hum to the song

as they drink more and more.

As the song ends, *

a restful silence sets in.*

A new epic is abound,

before the mass burial ground.*

Go to the merchants quarters,

and visit the exporter.*

*A merchant stands in the

middle of the trade district shouting

about his wares*

"What’s that? The war?

Well, I’d like to believe

it’s just another dispute;

Oxmore being a free city n' such.

As far as I can tell,

the Hierarch and nobles

don't seem much bothered, t'hemselves.

"One positive of the war,

I tell ya is that I export a lot more weapons.

n'the pay ain’t bad…

...aint bad at all."

*He pauses for a moment*

"Dont have to worry about feeding my family,

nor friends much either."

"And think of the farmers!

The crop they’ll be ‘aving after the war.

There's a reason why blood spilled soil

produces the best wheat.

*He begins to chuckle*

"Also why Oxmore is so known for its bread."

*He leans in*

“Listen. if Oxmore does lose the war,

unless you have the food or rations,

there’s no way youre making

it to another settlement."

"Choose your friends wisely…"

Play song about…

"With the eyes of lions they gorge,

sending death, blazing from the forge,"

"Cooled steel warmed by blood,

pulling riches from the flood."

"For the weight of their pockets is vital,

while clinging to their titles."

"So ignore the starving and poor,

for this is the cesspool, Oxmore."

*People cheer throughout the song,

with many cursing aristocracy.

As the song ends

a chant begins “Butcher the lions!”*

*Many of the palace members

shout in anger! Many of them leave.

But some of them stare

with empty eyes throughout the song.*

"Campaign of prosperity!

For Oxmore, a regularity."

"Wont it be grand?

Pulling riches from new lands?"

"Farewell four horsemen!

For Oxmore will see you not again!"

*The tavern erupts in boos, and jeers.

A chair is thrown and a fight breaks out.

As the song ends,

a few lie very still.*

*The room is fills with laughter and merry.

Many hug and dance in the ball room floor

A round of applause

is given as the song ends.*

It is finally time,

to discover your final rhymes.

Go now to the head of the lion,

and visit lost King Orion

"..."

"..."

"Fucking bards…"

"You want to know what the outcome "

"of the war will be?"

"I’m sure you do...

"twisting it into your hymns and rhymes

til you’ve molded it

into one of your neat. little. Poems…"

"For what reason I wonder? Fame? Change?

"Or maybe you’re just interested

"in seeing the outcome

and putting a cute little ribbon on top."

*The king dryly laughs to himself*

“Let me impart some wisdom to you...

Waiting for the guillotine is

much worse than when it finally drops.

People go mad when they know their

red thread of fate is about to be cut."

“Knowing the truth can often

be a burden not worth carrying.

But for you, I will impart this punishment."

*He leans forward and gives a sinister smile*

“Oxmore will not last another night...”

*He slumps back into his

chair with an empty stare*

“Better hurry and

write that ballad of yours, bard.”

Play song about…

"The nights grow darker

as we yearn for another sunrise,

waiting to feel the warmth

of its enveloping glow."

"Please fill our hearts and minds

with a boundless guise,

where we wait to return to the sweet willow."

"In dreams Oxmore will gently weep,

so take solace in each others arms,

and dance like flames before sleep,

for this city has lost all its charms."

"The burden of truths will weigh you down,

let your soul unfurl to song

and swallow ale til’ you drown,

For we all will follow along."

*People hug and dance to the ballad of Oxmore.

The room fills with singing,

laughter, and calls for more ale.*

*As the merry-making goes on smoke begins

to fill the room, and the sounds grow quieter.*

*When the song ends there is only silence.*

*The room is filled with silence

as the music plays.*

*With vacant gazes

they watch as the walls of Oxmore fall.*

*The song is cut short when the palace is breached*

*As the song goes on,

patrons begin to throw insults.

Then mugs.

People draw their weapons.*

*Before the song can end

the tavern becomes a bloodbath.*

The ballad of Oxmore remains unfinished.

*People embrace one another

and dance to the ballad of Oxmore.

The room fills with singing,

laughter, and calls for more wine.*

*As the festivities go on, sounds of

metal hitting wooden doors fill the room*

A large crack rings out within the palace.*

*As the song ends there is only silence.*

*As the song goes on,

patrons begin to throw insults.

Then mugs.

People draw their weapons.*

*Before the song can end

the tavern becomes a bloodbath.*

The ballad of Oxmore remains unfinished.

*The room is filled with silence

as the music plays.*

*With vacant gazes

they watch as the walls of Oxmore fall.*

*The song is cut short when the palace is breached*

"Our hearts, they pump so heavily,

blood dense with sadness and grief,

as we cling to Oxmore so desperately,

with faces lost to disbelief."

"Say goodbye to Oxmore’s last sunset,

as the air grows chill and dry,

when death comes to collect his debt,

what will you do with your time?"

"Tear out your threads of fate,

and scream at the black ocean of night,

will you search for escape?

or look to make right?"

*As the song goes on,

people begin to collect themselves in groups,

discussing ways of escape and gathering rations.*

*The song is cut short

when you join them on their uncertain journey.*

*The ballad of Oxmore remains unfinished.*

*The people of the palace

remain eerily silent as the song plays.

Before the song ends

a noble places a hand on your shoulder.*

"A caravan is waiting for you "

" other people of Oxmore. Go."

*From the wagon you watch Oxmore burn.*

*The ballad of Oxmore remains unfinished.*

*As the song plays,

there is an eeriness among the patrons,

They begin to slowly draw daggers, and approach.

the song is cut short as the lute soaks in blood.*

*Before the walls are breached,

Oxmore has fallen into chaos.*

*As the song goes on,

perturbation fills the room.*

*People begin whispering,

while some hurriedly leave the palace.

Before the song ends, everyone has cleared out.*

*Everyone except the king who smirks at you*

*As the song plays,

there is an eeriness among the patrons,

They begin to slowly draw daggers, and approach.

the song is cut short as the lute soaks in blood.*

*Before the walls are breached,

Oxmore has fallen into chaos.*

*As the song goes on,

perturbation fills the room.*

*People begin whispering,

while some hurriedly leave the palace.

Before the song ends, everyone has cleared out.*