Jase the Bard

Jasentain Iteshk Eddain, exile from Cothrem and bard of Pax



Jase grew up in the town of Cothrem. His mother and father took care of him with the patience of a fisherman, the tolerance of a king, the wisdom of a mentor, and the love of a careful mother. When Jase turned 10 years old, the city carpenter gave him his very own instrument. A “Fila Lyrae” he called it. Jase played it his whole life when he wasn’t working. Constantly tweaking it to perfection. The rough callus on his fingertips became normal to his hands. It wasn’t until he finished school when the other kids began to realize how talented he was at his stringed instrument, they even complimented him on his voice. Jase pretended to be humble on the outside, but when he sat alone in his house singing about the tales of ancient battles and kings, he knew it was true. Jase’s parents were always proud, as we was a role model to his little brother, Adam, who was never too good at playing instruments.
The people of Cothrem began to request songs and tales from Jase. Jase quickly accepted and began writing his own music. Which, of course, everyone loved. Especially Adam. It was this point in time when Jase realized he wanted to travel the world, showing everyone his music and tales. He wanted to be a bard.
His parents did not approve. They told him it was dangerous, and asked what Adam think. Seeing his older brother leave so suddenly. And if he died… They couldn’t even think of words to say. His father gaven the final decision. “No.”
Jase tore himself apart. Burned his music, and snapped his strings. The idea of a rope around his neck made his hand do just that. Which quickly extinguished when 9 year old adam looked up and asked him why.
Jase embraced him and cried. Adam was confused, it was the first time seeing his hero so weak. Jase promised he would never hurt himself ever again.
3 years later, a new family moved in. The Nettles. About 14 people. They seemed rough, rugged, and definitely not fit for cothrem. At least, that’s what Jase thought. They picked on everyone, leaving new bruises and cuts for the kids to run to their mothers about. Bar fights happened more often with the drunken fathers brawling over opinions. Whenever accused of these actions, the nettles justified everything they did. Whether it apart of “life” or the law of the world.
Everyone learned to just deal with it, and happy days were rare.
One afternoon, Jase returned home from work early. The mill had broken and the repair pieces were currently being shipped in. He found Alvor Nettles poking around the house. Jase immediately tried to throw him out, when he picked up his broken Fila Lyrae, taunting it and insulting Jase. Jase was angry, he threw alvor out of the house and slammed the door on his ass. Jase brushed his hands together when he heard the faint cries of Adam outside the door. Jase threw the door open to find alvor and his three brothers standing around Adam. Adam lie in the street, with the sharpened, bloodied splinter of his Lyrae through his brothers heart. The Nettles threw up their accusations, their helpless cries of plea to try and change his mind. But it was too late. Jase’s boots now covered in the crimson of his brothers, and his murderers. Four nettles and an innocent boy lay in the street, motionless. Jase carried his brother outside the city and buried him. Keeping his Fila Lyrae, there was no point staying in Cothren. Jase put his instrument back together, renaming it the Adamus Lyrae.
He didn’t need the vilification from the town to keep his feet moving, he didn’t need to cries from his parents. He just walked where he needed to walk, and the notes of his strings to carry him.

Jase the Bard

Tesseract squishypickl