Tale 11 told by Taniwha on 28.11.2000
The hardest part of telling tales are the friendships I make -- painful, I
say, for the more friends one has, the more one sees of life's injustices.
Dranin was once full of laughter and wit, and would often tarry with me at
local taverns, where the stories and the ale would both flow freely. The
years, I fear, do not balance miracles and maladies upon us mortal beings,
and Dranin has born the brunt of more calamities than any other who has
shared their stories with me. Slowly, the enthusiasm that he had was
diminshed as life and those he loved treated him unfairly, and he withdrew
from his family, me, and the bustling crowds of the city. T'is rumored that
now he lives a life of solitude, hidden below the city that caused him such
pain, and focusing on building his personal abilities instead of agonizing
over relationships with others. He is lost to me now, but still I hope he
has gained the freedom he searches for...