Word spreads through the usual channels of another event for talespinners at the Leringard Arms Inn & Tavern.
Founded by Dragoncalled, with stewards that are bards and mercenaries, it has seen all manner of tales firsthand, from visitations by Queen Allurial and pit masters to being attacked by demons from Xandrial's army or burned down by the Blackwatch...
And in its time, it has, of course, sponsored and hosted many a talespinner... some that became stories in their own right. Do you know any stories about stories and their tellers? I can think of many!
Some are straight from life -- the song that tamed Corash. The child at the Hold, who absorbed so much power that her stories came to life. The Bard, an influence inseparable from the era of the Dragoncalled. The Voice, that recorded the consolidation of power in Rael and prodded, mocked, and shamed the powerful sellswords that stood by in an attempt to awaken them. An old scribe with a secret in Katia's greatest forest, that summoned opposition to Bloodstone and told the tale of his return to every soul that stood before the dragon.
Others are imagined only, or else so distant that none live that could untangle what is true. Saquan, whose grief at the slaughter of the merfolk became an unbridled song that transformed the corals. Thousand-tale Johnny that charmed the fairy queen, only to bore her with the wrong melody after centuries being her consort. The sage of Iliariel, so terrified by his own premonitions that he betrayed the kingdom to creatures that whispered from the Pits. Dragons that hoarded stories and riddles. Songs that launched ships. The Harpers.
Halfling legends say Prunilla told a dragon a tale that shamed him into remembering his discarded creations and freed her to travel with Deliar, and the clan mothers of the nomads are still called Storytellers. A thousand songs of disasters unraveling or the world breaking because of the right words in the right ears, from the gnome that could whisper the perfect joke in any ear and see them dead from laughter, to the T'oleflor themselves, who in some tellings sang the world and all its shadows into being.
((This event is outside of plague-time due to the multiple characters still in plague-limbo (particularly the host, ha!); to avoid any wormholes opening up and swallowing us whole, please skirt around it for a few hours!))