Hello and welcome everyone to my class, “The Measure of Music”.

I am Ricardo Beleren, your music

teacher for your time here at Lindenford. For aspiring bards such as yourself, knowledge and
information are just as important as the music you write. You must understand the world to understand
the means to change it. And as is the case, I would like to understand who you all are, so that I might
better mold your minds into greatness.

Student – “But sir, I think most of us would like to know about you.” Another student – “you don’t know
who he is? He is one of the greatest adventurers of our age. Everyone knows about him.”

ah class, this is your first lesson. Never miss an opportunity to gain knowledge, however meager.
Knowledge is power and should be treated as such. And for your question young man, I would be happy
to tell you. But where to start? Hmmmm, why not at the beginning.

A long time ago, I was a poor young man with little to nothing to my family’s name. I lived in poverty
with my mother and father in a small village far from the capitol. All I knew was hunger and boredom,
that is until one day when my father presented me with something that looked magnificent. (pulls out
Melodie to show the class.) this guitar my family dubbed, “Melodie”. My father told me that his father
and his father’s father have passed this down as an heirloom and that it was now my time to receive it.
Looking at the make of the instrument, I had asked him, “why do we not sell this and live like kings’
father? All of us could eat good food for our entire lives with this.” He told me that the guitar was too
precious for us to give to another, our ancestors made this for us, our names are etched into it. I did not
understand the significance of such a thing at the time but heeded my fathers’ words.

With boredom being the main detriment to my existence, I took interest in fiddling with the instrument.
Over time and with great amounts of effort I learned the chords and the ways to make music. I enjoyed
it, maybe a little too much, but I knew that this was going to be my path in life. I started to play songs at
village gatherings and people would sit intently as I played. I became more confident and more skilled in
my craft. The village started to recognize this and secretly collected enough money to send me here to
the very school you are sitting in. This is where the story gets more interesting.

I spent a few days learning the constructive way to make music, memorizing how sheets can compile the
sounds and how to order the symbols. It was all rather dreary, and I hated it. How could someone
restrict music in such a way. It frustrated me to no end and I vented those frustration through the music
I played in my spare time. During one of those sessions, I was unaware I was being listened to. When I
finished my song, one of my teachers rounded the corner. To admonish me or punish me I thought for
not using the correct formats of music. But no, instead he praised me, saying that the freedom of my
heart led to the most beautiful tunes. He also said that a person is like a tuning fork and that if they are
not learning in the right environment for them, then they will not resonate correctly. He asked if I would
like to take a secret mentorship with him during my time here at Lindenford. I readily accepted, anything
to escape the conformity of the classroom.

During our first days together, he showed me tricks and ways to make sounds out Melodie that I never
thought possible. He would ask me to play music and then join in when he felt it appropriate. The
sounds of those days are some of my most treasured. But eventually he showed me why our lessons
were supposed to be secret. He was going to teach me magic.
He taught me many useful spells and taught me how to live within a world filled with magic that I never
knew about. But our time together was short lived. He was in debt. Do you all know what the old laws
were when someone owed a debt that they could not repay? Yes, you there.

Student – “they would have to go work for that person until they paid their debt.”

That is correct. They would become what is known as indentured servants, or also known as slaves. So,
my mentor, Kejik Mournmound, was taken from his home and put to labour for a certain lord that he
owed a great deal of money. It was a very sad time for me and for many at this school. He was well liked
among students and staff alike. But I resolved myself to finish my education and visit him when I
graduated.

That was not to be. When I had graduated and visited the estate he was sent to, I had learned that he
died a year prior during his time helping the farm. This shocked me to my very core. To lose someone so
close to me and not even know about it a year later. I did not know what to do with myself. All my
dreams of the future faded from my mind. And that left a void within. But that void was soon filled.
Filled with purpose and righteous anger. How could I let injustices such as this occur? It was wrong, it
had to be wrong, there was no way it could be right. Thoughts like that filled every waking minute.
Dreams came to me in the night of how I would become a hero for the people, how I would break the
chains of those unfortunate enough to be bound, and how I would right the wrongs of a nation so
riddled with corruption. Music was still my love and my goal, but my purpose had been changed a great
deal.

I spent time travelling around the capitol showing my skills in music to any who would like to hear it.
This became a great way to make for conversation. And conversation means information. I became very
good at guiding a conversation towards a certain topic without the person really catching on. With this
ability I was able to find out many things about the nobles and lords in the area. But I knew this was not
enough. I needed to know everything about everyone. To change the world, you must first know it. This
is probably the greatest lesson I could teach you. After I came to that conclusion I decided to leave the
capitol. I left on a journey for knowledge and for the pursuit of justice. And that’s when I met them. In a
small village in the middle of nowhere I decided to take some time to rest at the tavern. When I walked
in I saw… (start of campaign).