Name: Sir Borgu Bladesong
Race: Human
Class: Bard
Sex: Male
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 180
Eyes: Hazel
Hair: Dark brown

Borgu's Story

You wish to hear my tale? Unlike the ballads I perform, it is not a glamorous story of adventure and high romance. It is a tale which gives me no joy in the telling.

It's true my father was a great elven warrior. He earned a minor barony and a castle of his own by distinguishing himself against the orcs in Crushbone. He married and had a son named Sirmaliki, my brother.

I am the product of a tryst with a human girl who worked in the castle kitchens. Her name was Jehanna.

My mother was a proud woman and she demanded that I be recognized as an heir. To protect his good name, my father denied everything and cast us out of the castle. In her anger she gave me his name, Borgu, so he would know and remember.

It's not easy raising a child when you are human in the elven lands so we came to Freeport. Jehanna eked out a meager existence for us as a barmaid in the northern part of the city. I spent much of my young life in that pub, doing chores and trying to avoid the fights which would often break out.

Many interesting people came to the pub, but it was the performers who enthralled me the most. One, a bard named Tellnyar, took a special interest in me. In his spare time he would teach me about music, for he saw in me some talent. Sometimes, when my mother was elsewhere, he would also show me swordplay. He knew well the dangers of the world and wanted me prepared.

Day turned into night, nights into days, and I grew. I became strong in song and weaponry and was soon a Bard in my own right. I earned a living by performing at the pub and other establishments around the city.

Life was fine, I was popular with the public and especially the ladies! My mother had also found happiness with a nice tailor fellow who lived nearby. Everything seemed to be going well. Then, with no warning, evil reared its ugly head.

One night I was performing at the pub. My mother and the tailor had come and were enjoying the music. I was getting ready to play a new somg I wrote when a chill entered the air and silence gripped the patrons.

The door to the pub opened and a High Elf dressed in full armour entered. He had three or four figures with him, their features covered by heavy robes. He scanned the crowd until his gaze fell upon my mother. She turned pale at his visage, for he was my father. He leered at her and said "You are coming with me. All that has ever been mine will be mine again."

He moved across the bar in a blur and grabbed her arm. The creatures with him removed their cloaks and revealed themselves. They were foul Ghouls! My father laughed and said "She is mine! Do not follow or you will die!"

I leaped to her defense and was caught instantly by the throat. He looked me in the eyes and said "Because you are my son, I will spare your life. If I see you again, I will drink your blood." His eyes started to glow and I became dizzy. The last thing I saw before passing out were the fangs that sat in his mouth like rusty knives in a slaughterhouse.

When I awakened, I found myself in a hospice with minor injuries. Others in the pub were not so lucky. In trying to save my mother many were slain, including the tailor whose throat was torn and his blood drained.

On that day my life changed. I vowed to find my mother, save her if possible, or end her misery if not. Tellnyar introduced me to a militant group of bards who called themselves Bladesong. They wrote and performed music specifically for the enhancement of battle and the destruction of evil. I joined them and trained in the ways of a Battlebard. They taught me all they could, at the end saying "The road is the best teacher. Go now and fight evil where you see it. When you reach the Bard rank of twenty you may adopt the surname of Bladesong. You will know then that you are ready to find your mother."

I now toil at developing myself for the day I enter Mistmoore. I am aided by a guild of adventurers known as SCARAB. They are helping me in my development and will help me when I again meet my mother and father.

Read Borgu's other writings