His voice got all craggy like, and he thrust his pipe with the vigorous emphasis, "Muah father was told by his father. His father was told by his father. My great-great-great grand-mother spun this tale to him, 'cus his father was struck down by a carp!" The children all shuddered at the thought, "But the story goes like this, with some minor changes and additions..." The room went dark, his eyes glowed, there were no words from anyone but the red bearded bard. "There was once a godly dark king whom ruled from a oddly dark throne. His intentions were plain, he had no qualms, he was conquering the land with a viscous army of Thrawn. You see wee children, he had a spear, a spear that only a godly dark king could be near. It controlled the Thrawn, dark beasts of ill brood, warriors who showed no fear and little remorse. This dark king drove the humans to the shores, where they made their last stand, their blood still stains the vast plainlands."
The bard paused, puffed a white cloud, and continued: "The elves were next, and their tree magic held no root for the dark godly king was quick to turn their kingdom into a land of soot." The children whispered and the bard stamped his foot, "Quiet young dwarfs, for the godly dark king comes! Up, young dwarfs, do you hear his heavy breath through the thick home walls? Be silent sweet children, for his spear has no reach here as long as you adhere to your fathers rule and law!" He grinned, having frightened the children into silence, "But what's this? He's left behind, the very seed of his own dark kind. The Forgotten Beasts they roam the land, seeking out our gold and hands. For with the dwarves the Forgotten Beasts know, they can bring back the Dark King, and his ill gotten throne."