I once met the strangest Bard… Well, I guess the opposite of a Bard. A nega-bard. He just sat quietly and listened.
He listened to other’s stories and he listened to news from far off lands of far of conflicts. He listened to sounds around him, made by birds and beasts, big and small. The sound of plants rustling and water running.
"If he only listens and doesn’t sing, how did you make him to be a Bard?"
Well…I just asked him what he was up to. He was the only living soul for miles around when I met him, so my curiosity was piqued.
"Training, * he said simply.
When I learned he as a weaver of epic yarns, I practically begged him to tell me a story…but he refused.
"What if I get it wrong?" is all he said when I asked him why.