The Fifth Story

Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves

A wanders life,
Tinged with suspicion.
A gypsy wife,
Held up as a whore.
Call me not evil,
Nor a tramp or a theif,
Until you see the injustices.
Done to my people by yours.

                    --Nicodaemus Calaudra



    I was not born to the life I have chosen.  Truthfully, had I closed my eyes and
covered my ears I could have lived out the rest of my life in comfort.  Unfortunately
I never learned to do that, I would not ignore what my father did to my sister.  So
naturally I ran off.  Anyway I've already told this story so I'll continue with the
story I was intending to tell.
    Firstly I'll have to tell you about Kiralee, Kiralee is a female gold elf, a bard,
like myself, with no formal training, like myself.  Kiralee, unlike most bards does 
not play a stringed instrument, but a pipe, and a curious one at that.  Kiralee refused 
point blank to tell me what it was called, but it was similar to a clarinet, only it 
was shorter and it had one reed and two bells (for all you less musically 
inclined people this is the bit at the end, bell shaped, when you blow on the reed 
noise comes out the bell).
     I'll tell you how I met Kiralee later, when this happened I'd already known 
Kiralee for some time.  I met her before I met Quinn, about twenty years before I 
met Quinn.  Back when I was still playing a Balalaika, thank Erevan I found a Zither 
not soon afterwards, if you don't know what either of those instruments are a 
Balalaika is similar to a Lute except it has only three strings and it's body is 
usually triangular and the Zither is... how do I describe it?  I'll find a 
picture, that makes my job easier.




There, a Zither, what do you think?  Anyway back to the story.



    This was the fourth or fifth time I'd met up with Kiralee and this time we'd 
decided to travel down the sword coast together.  So packs over our shoulders, 
instruments in hand, we set off to the sword coast.  We did actually make it, after 
months of travelling.  We did not however, make it alone.  
    Once we got outside the forests of Cormanthor and a little way towards the coast 
we came across a band of the strangest humans we had ever encountered.  Nearly all of 
them had black hair and olive skin.  They attracted our attention or rather their 
colours, attracted our attention.  They were travelling in carts that were blue and 
red and yellow, every hue of the rainbow. 
     Kiralee and I were spotted as we approached the camp one of the men called out 
to us in a language neither of us could identify, then in the common tongue he called 
out.
    "Well met friends, if you be friends?"
    "We mean you no harm if that is what you mean," I called back to him as Kiralee 
and I walked into the circle of firelight.
    "Elves," one of the children ran up to us and grasped myself and Kiralee by the 
hands.
    "Come, sit," the man offered pointing to two unoccupied mats on the ground "If 
you mean us no harm then I would be more than pleased to share my food."
    It was clear this man, who on closer inspection appeared to be in his middle-
years, was the leader of the band.
    "May I inquire the name of our host?"  I elbowed Kiralee in the ribs but she 
said it anyway.
    "Indeed, I am Ryall Tiallo and I lead this humble band."  He laughed.
    "I am Kiralee Dionysia and my companion is--"
    "Nicodaemus Calaudra," I was quick to interject, I have known Kiralee many years 
yet she still cannot pronounce my name "Nic is fine, thankyou."  
    One of the women in the troupe placed a bowl of a very heavilly seasoned stew 
in front of me, unsure I looked to Ryall who laughed.
    "Eat eat eat," He instrcuted me, running the words together so it sounded like 
'id id id'.
    I did so, so did Kiralee.  The troupe laughed and talked merrilly about us until 
we had finished and then the plates, bowls and cauldrons were cleared away and the 
band began to perform, men and women alike danced and sang.  Kiralee looked at me
holding up her pipes and raising an eyebrow.  I shrugged slinging my Zither around 
from my shoulders where it was strapped.
    Kiralee stood, her bright skirts swishing about her ankles and struck up a merry 
tune on her pipes, I listened caught the beat and began to play along.  Then Kiralee 
began to dance.
    When Kiralee danced she looked like she was flying, her many layered brightly 
coloured skirts flared and whirled and she spun her bronze jewellery flashed in the 
fire light, not to be outdone the women of the troupe began to dance as well, then 
those with instruments began to play along.  Everyone was laughing as they tried to 
outdo each other, then one of the younger women tripped on Kiralee's flaring skirts.  
They fell in a flurry of colours and fabrics.
    Everyone stopped playing, standing and rushing over to ensure everyone was alright, 
As they untangled themselves Kiralee was laughing but the girl was scowling.
    "Filthy Gaj Elves," she spat at Kiralee and myself, we must've looked completely 
bewildered.
    "Lyssia, stop it, it was an accident.  These are guests at what is still my table."  
Ryall's voice was harsh.
    "But papa--"
    "No Lyssia.  You will hold your tongue in future.
    "Mamman?" she looked to an older woman with her hands on her hips.
    "Your Papa is correct kitten, you do not insult guests."
    "But they are Gaj!" Lyssia stamped her foot angrilly.
    "Not another word Lyssia," Ryall snapped "Friselle, take care of your daughter."
    Lyssia's mother shooed her away into one of the tents.
    "I must apologise for my daughter's intolerance, but not so long ago her brother 
was aressted and killed by Gaj soldiers."
    I nodded, but I was curious as to what 'Gaj' meant.  "Excuse me Ryall, but can I 
ask you what 'Gaj' means?"
    "Of course, a Gaj is someone who is not a gypsy!"  He roared slapping me across 
the back, hard and laughing merrily "And now to bed and to rest, you shall stay with 
my cousin Troi and your companion can stay with Lene."  
    He called over two of the band one of they a huge man with a bristling black beard 
who would have been imposing if it were not for his eyes which seemed to be laughing at 
everyone.  The other was a young woman with long black hair, dark brown eyes and an 
impish smile.  Troi put a large hand on my shoulder, a hand that could've, I have no 
doubt, crushed my skull had he wanted it to. 
    "My tent is this way," his voice was deep and gravelly I shrugged and followed.  
I was not about to refuse the offer of a warm bed and perhaps breakfast.  We bards 
may spend most of our lives travelling but we never fail to appreciate the comforts 
in life.







    We travelled all the way to the Sword Coast with Ryall's band, but the journey 
not the destination is what I remember most clearly.  I loved my time with that 
roving band of humans I've never been in a situation more suited to the daily wander-
lust that courses through my veins, we'd wake up int the morning and someone, usually 
Ryall would call out.
    "Where are we going today?" And invariably some one would answer.
    "That hill!" or "To the other side of the Horizon!"  Which of course all mages and 
wizards will say "You can't do that, there isn't another side to the horizon."  
    Well there is, I've seen it so there.  It looks much like this side, only it's 
backward and people walk on their hands.  Okay... I admit it now I am making 
things up.
    The most wonderful thing was that no one was going anywhere, yet everyone was 
constantly moving and travelling.  We'd stop at towns along the way and perform for 
money, steal for food and run all night to get away.  The group was always laughing 
I remember, not all the group all the time, but most of the group all lot of the time.  
Unless someone was feeling genuinely unhappy, then the mood would sombre and the group 
would talk around the fires all night.  One such all night occaision was just after 
we'd passed through a small town and one of the gypsies youngest children had been 
caught as the band fled.
    The child's name was Raoul, he was Ryall's nefew and he was only four when the 
villagers caught him.  The ironic thing is, we hadn't done anything wrong in that 
village, we'd worked in the square and paid for everything we took with us.  
Unfortunately Raoul had odd-coloured eyes, and the villagers accused him of killing
cattle by looking at it.
    Raoul was easily caught by the villagers, thwe entire band tried to stop them, 
inclusive of myself and Kiralee tried to rescue the child.  We were too late by the 
time we chased down the villagers Raoul had already been lynched.  He was four, his 
fifth name-day was to have been in just under a tenday, they wouldn't even return his 
body to his parents, claiming that they would use it for 'Gypsy devilry'.  
    Sometimes the supperstitiousness of humans astounds me.  I'm not saying elves 
aren't superstitions, far from, but I like to think we wouldn't hang a child because 
of it.
    That night there was no laughter, everyone's faces were sad, Raoul's Mamman and 
Father embraced each other and cried for the child they'd lost and the rest of the 
band suppresed sighs.  Kiralee, Troi, Lene and I sat around the fire on our own staring 
at the dying embers when Lene piped up softly.
    "Let's go get him."
    "Who?  The villagers killed Raoul, not anyone person."  Was my response.
    "No, let's go and get Raoul, I can't bear to think of him hanging there."
    "Yes!"  Kiralee's response was instantaneous.
    Troi nodded once, I wanted to be the voice of reason but then I thought of Mirei 
and how I would feel.  I sighed and looked up at Lene.  "When?"
    "Tonight."







    And so we found ourselves slinking around the outskirts of the village to the wide 
oak where Raoul's tiny body still hung.  There were no guards, so Kiralee and I climbed 
the tree with difficulty and tried to untie the rope, but the knot held fast.  Troi 
tossed us a dagger which embedded itself near my foot and we cut the boy down.
    While we worked to remove the noose from the boy's neck a villager came to check 
that the body was still there.  Troi dealt with him in his own inimitable style, which 
involved a rock, Troi's arm and the man's head.  I surprised my self at this point.
    "Violent sadistic Gaj."  I spat at the unconcious form.
    Troi looked at me and smiled and Lene clapped me on the back.  Kiralee just put a 
finger to her lips and handed the boy's body to Troi.
    "Let's go."
    The assent was unanimous, we jogged back to camp, we returned the body silently to 
his parents and returned to our fire.
    Troi and Lene wandered off to talk with Ryall briefly and then returned, Kiralee 
and I were lying back staring at the stars, she had her head on my stomach and I had 
my hand on her hair.  Troi tapped me on the shoulder and bid me follow him, Lene did 
the same to Kiralee.  
    I can't tell you what happened to Kiralee because I was not there and she, like 
myself, didn't really want to talk about it.  I can however tell you what happened to 
me.







    I walked with Troi until we were far out from the camp, we saw another figure not 
to far off who I thought was Ryall.  I was wrong, it was Ryall's brother, Luc, Raoul's father.
    He joined us and one of the first things I noticed was that he had an ornamental 
dagger in one hand.
    "Nicodaemus Calaudra, you have the soul of a Gypsy even if you do not wear the 
face of one."  He told me, I was confused and unsure, that blade was making me nervous. 
"Our leader has given me permission to bring you into our clan, give me your arm."
    I did, somewhat reluctantly it must be said but I did, no sooner had I done so, than 
he sliced it with the dagger.  I grasped my arm and glared at him.
    "What was that for?"  I hissed, forgetting for an instant to speak the common tongue
and slipping into Elvish.
    Luc didn't answer he just gashed his own arm, I began to understand, I held my arm 
out again.  Luc pressed the open wound on his arm to mine.
    "For what you have done for me Nicodaemus Calaudra, I invite you to join our family."
    I had no idea of what I was expected to say so I settled on "I accept."
    Luc changed his grip and clasped my forearm, I hissed in pain.
    "Thankyou.  You cannot know what it means to have my son back."
    He was right I couldn't.







    Kiralee and I stayed with Ryall and his band for many months as we were all 
travelling in roughly the same direction.  Life wasn't hard but neither was it 
idyllic, we were up before the sun rose, every morning.  To help pack away tents and 
bedrolls and we didn't stop
until well after the sun had set to make camp.  I enjoyed my time with Ryall, I became 
fast friends with Troi who enjoyed nothing better than knocking me over by slapping me 
on the back.  Kiralee got to know most of the camp, she's friendlier than I.
    I remember the day with left the band, more than one member was probably gald to 
see us gone.  Troi got up an hour before the sun that morning, like he did every morning 
and he shook me out of reverie, again, like he did every morning and he babe me follow 
him.  When we got a little way off from the camp he rounded on me.
    "Now you listen to me!"  He proclaimed poking me in the chest.  "If you don't take 
care o'yerself Nicodaemus Calaudra, friend that you are or I'll come after ye and I'll 
resurrect ye just so I can beat ye to a pulp for doing so!"
    To my credit I did try not to laugh, but Troi always made such a spectacle of himself 
that I couldn't help myself.  He stood there with his hands on his hips while I tried to
regain control of myself and when I had he told me in a very serious tone.
    "Ye ever see these wagons again and ye come right over and share a meal, if ye walk
off without doin' so I'll take it as a personal affront."
    "Well Troi, I'm not one to turn down the offer of free food, let alone in such good
company, I'd be glad to."
    "And you bring that pretty wife of yours too."
    I think my eyeballs must've fallen out of their sockets at that point, I nearly fell 
over laughing, between fits of laughter I mannaged to choke out.
    "Me?  And Kiralee?  Married?!  You are joking!"
    "Well aren't you?"  Troi looked at me incredulously.
    "Erevan forbid!  No of course we're not!  We'd drive each other insane."
    "Oh, are you related?"
    "No, not that we know of anyway."
    "Then why do you travel together?"
    I shrugged explianing that it had seemed like a good idea at the time.  Troi looked 
at me, the idea of travelling with someone not related to you was completely foreign to
him.  He was used to this close knit band of people who knew everyone else, something 
that would drive me insane.
   Kiralee the band and I parted on good terms, they were travelling north to look for
the other side of the horizon and we were heading south to find the other end of the 
world.  Vows were taken, goodbyes were exchanged, some tears were cried but when all was 
said and done it was a happy parting.
    I have never seen the band again, nor have I revisited that town for I am certain I 
would burn that oak tree to the ground and most of the town with it.





The Sixth Story

Follow Me To The End of The World.

Did you ever realise?
Did you ever know?
How did you ignore,
What I know I showed?

Did you know I loved you?
Did you know I cared?
All the things we knew,
All the things we shared.

Did you see me hold on?
Did you see me fade away?
Did you see me pause the world,
Just for one more day.

                  --Kiralee Dionysia



    Yes, again, I am sorry, a sentimental piece.

    I met Kiralee in a small town on the western borders of the forests of 
Cormanthor, she was several years younger than I and she made the mistake of 
trying to pick my pocket.I caught her, easily, and she tried to tell me some 
stupid story about needing to pay for her little sister's schooling and food 
for the family.  It didn't work, 
mainly because I'd seen her before.  At a midnight gambol, if you don't know 
what I mean I have a question for you.  
    Where have you been living?  In the abyss?  With your eyes closed and your 
fingers in your ears?
    Now the midnight gambol is the monthly worship of Erevan Ilsere, the practical
joker of the Elvish pantheon.  If you find out where it is this month please feel 
free to come along.
    Anyway, I'd seen Kiralee at that month's midnight gambol, I confronted her, 
quietly, as soon as she realised she was dealing with a fellow worshipper of Erevan 
she ceased her attempts at lying.  Kiralee and I bought our own lunches and talked 
all day eventually decided that we wouldn't try to steal from each other and became 
friends.
    This however is not the tale of how I found my best friend but the unfortunate 
tale of how I lost her.







    Kiralee and I had always planned to walk to the end of the world together, we 
tried on several occaisions but we always got sidetracked.
    The night that destroyed the most precious friendship of my life was nothing 
out of the ordinary, Kiralee and I were staying at a roadside inn as we travelled.  
When Kiralee came in she was soaked from head to foot.  She'd been dancing in the 
rain, as she did.  I was sitting on the bed in the room we'd rented out, writing in 
my journal.  She came up to me and wrapped me in a huge sopping wet hug, I was less 
than impressed but I hugged her back. 
    Kiralee was exuberant, always, she was also insane, she swung from exuberant and 
friendly to down and out in no time at all.  You got used to it after a while, a long
while.  No-one ever actually managed to pin down what was wrong with her, but I didn't
care, Kiralee was my friend.  Someone I knew I could count on when I needed help so I
did the same for her.
    This night she crawled into the bed with me, I didn't care, I just wrapped my 
arms around her and dropped back into reverie.  We awoke at the same time and didn't
actually move for several hours, we just talked.
    "Nic, you awake?"
    "I am now."
    "Oh... good.  Nic?"
    "Mmhmm?"
    "Travel to the end of the world with me?"
    "I'd love to."
    "Good."
    This was the general flow of the conversation most mornings.  We travelled 
generally south for a long time, we actually made it to Nashkell.







    "Nic, can I ask you a question?"  Kiralee asked me one morning.
    "Yes of course you can."
    "Do you ever wonder what it will be like when yo die?  Whether people will care, 
whether they'll even remeber?"
    I paused "No... never, why?"
    "It's just... sometimes I think I'd like to be remembered."
    "I'll remember you Kiralee, I daresay alot of people will."
    She smiled at me, that radiant smile that would melt your heart and hide 
everything she was feeling from you.
    "Thankyou Nic.  I'll remember you too."
    I laughed thinking this conversation quite macabre.  "Well I don't intend to die 
for a long time yet, so we have a long time to gather memories."
    "Erevan willing."  She answered softly, I didn't understand her meaning.  I went 
to get breakfast and talked to the bar keep for a while.
    That conversation should have been my first warning, I didn't take it I returned 
up the stairs with breakfast and Kiralee and I talked about little and meaningless 
things while we ate.  The weather, the end of the world and other things of equal 
unimportance.  
    Kiralee became increasingly introverted and ill over the next month, she became 
disinterested in performing food, drink, nothing seemed to pique her interest.  She 
did however take  to writing, I'd find her buried to her elbows in parchment with ink 
all over her everyday when I returned to the inn.
    Then one day I returned to the inn and couldn't find her, I shrugged it off 
thinking she'd finally gone out to perform or do some thievery.  I began to tidy away 
the papers she'd left all over the room.  I'd nearly finished cleaning everything away 
when the inn keeper came up the stairs and knocked on the door.  He said nothing, but he 
took me downstairs to the bath house and showed me in.  When elves lose interest in 
living, we die.
This is what happened to Kiralee, she was no longer interested so she died.  The inn 
keeper handed me a piece of parchment, on it was written, in Kiralee's hand:





Follow me to the end of the world,
Death is the last truly great advenutre.






    Well Kiralee, how's that for remeberance?  I'd say I keep my part of the bargain,
wouldn't you?

I miss you.