by Floyd Fiftynames, Licensed Bard
Did you know, dear reader, that yours truly once took a creative writing course? It's true. Any bard worth their salt (cough, MITCHELL, cough), can benefit from a little evaluation, both from within and without. And so it was that I found myself one day in a beginner's storytelling class, where the following exchange took place:
TEACHER: One of the biggest mistakes a storyteller can make is to step outside the story to tell the audience what the tale is about. If the "about" isn't clear from the writing or telling of the story alone, then you're doing something wrong - you're telling a bad story.
FLOYD: What if you're the world's greatest storyteller, and your worst story is still better than most people's best efforts?
TEACHER: Get out, Mr. Fiftynames.
From this sage and our conversation, I learned something very important - that classes were a waste of money for me, and rules were irrelevant, because I was constantly transcending the game.
So with that in mind, let me tell you that this story has been about hypocrisy. We like to think that the heroes of legend always knew and understood the right thing to do, but it simply isn't the case. Lothar and his friends were constantly in search of a clear moral path, but even en route to vanquishing immense evil, compromises were made. These compromises would leave stains and scars on the souls of everyone who made them. As their adventure drew to a close, the last two years of Lothar's life became puzzle pieces before his eyes, snapping into place, making the harsh truth more obvious to him.
Monstrous, damned souls had invaded the world of the living. Lothar wondered, if he were to fall in battle against them, would it be his fate to take up the axe on the other side of the fray? Or did he earn a peaceful, eternal rest?
Our hero resolved that, should he live to see the end of this war, he would dedicate himself to a more life-affirming pursuit in the world that followed.
FF
