College of Bards: Ranks

Overview

The College of Bards in Kingsport is a prestigious institution that draws people from the all over the Verdant Kingdoms to study and vault them to fame and fortune. The tuition is steep, but because the reputation of the College allows the students to easily find work, many of them perform throughout the year to afford next year’s tuition. As the students progress, the attain new ranks, which are described below. There are two disciplines that the College offers, which represent distinct routes of study; the Path of the Lyre, a solemnic discipline, and the Path of the Mask, a theatrical discipline. Both focus on different aspects of the bardic craft.

Ranks

Rank Solemnic: Path of the Lyre Theatrical: Path of the Mask
Rite of First Echo
  • All students undergo this upon entering the College.
  • At midnight, they must stand in the Echo Chamber (a hall designed to carry sound in strange ways) and speak, sing, or play a single note.
  • Their voice echoes back, symbolising how all bards add to the endless chorus of history.
Apprentice of Echoes
  • First-year students.
  • Just learning to control voice, instrument, and stage presence.
  • Known for carrying too many books and getting lost in practice halls.
Novice Cantor
  • Initiates of the College, learning scales, chants, and the foundations of lore.
  • Fresh-faced apprentices, often given menial tasks and comic warm-up acts.
Rite of Divergence (Choosing the Path)
  • Performed at the end of the first year.
  • Students stand in the Grand Amphitheater before teachers and peers.
  • Two paths open:
The Lyre is struck once; solemn students step forward, swearing to uphold truth, history, and song. From that moment, they are Lyric Bards, and pursue discipline, tradition, and a reverence for the bardic craft. This is the path for those who seek gravitas, mastery of lore, and bardic authority. The Mask is donned; whimsical students step forward, swearing to delight, inspire, and confound. From that moment, they are Masked Bards, and lean into humour, flamboyance, and the carnival spirit of entertainers and tricksters. This is the path for those who embrace play, improvisation, satire, and performance as living art.
Chorus Initiate
  • Second-year students.
  • Expected to perform in groups, harmonising rather than leading.
  • Begin studying ballads, histories, and magical songs.
Disciple of the Lyre

Sworn students, entrusted with the study of musical and poetic theory.

Rhymester

Students learning rhyme and rhythm, often performing in taverns or festivals in groups.

The Oath of Memory

Must recite a great epic, saga, or sacred hymn from memory before the council, with no mistakes.

The Test of Tongues

They must improvise a comic song or witty rhyme about a random object handed to them in front of a roaring audience.

Versecrafter
  • Third-year students.
  • Can compose and perform original works.
  • Allowed to perform solos at lesser feasts and taverns under the College’s banner.
Keeper of Verses

Scholars responsible for preserving and reciting the great epics and ancestral songs.

Stage-Juggler

Budding entertainers who juggle not just objects, but verses, songs, and personas.

The Rite of Resonance

They sing or play within the Hall of Stones, where ancient enchantments make the walls vibrate. Only when their song harmonises with the chamber do they pass.

The Trial of the Fool’s Flame

They must perform at night in a festival, keeping a torch lit the entire time while juggling, singing, or joking; a test of both skill and showmanship.

Balladeer
  • Fourth-year students.
  • Trusted to weave stories and songs that inspire or sway audiences.
  • Begin assisting younger students as mentors.
Adept Harmonist

Skilled performers, permitted to compose works of their own and guide novices.

Torchsong Trouper

Accomplished performers who can command attention with song, satire, or spectacle.

The Vigil of Silence

They keep three nights in silence, meditating on music’s role in the world. On the fourth day, they perform their first original composition before the College.

The Masquerade of Many Faces

They must perform as at least three different characters in a single act, never breaking the illusion, leaving the audience laughing and crying in turn.

Minstrel Adept
  • Fifth-year students (or near-graduates).
  • Known for mastery of a chosen style—epic, elegy, satire, or spell-song.
  • Perform before nobles, adventurers, or even on dangerous expeditions.
Master of Ballads
  • Senior students who demonstrate authority in both performance and bardic magic.
Moonlight Minstrel

The rising stars of the troupe, famed for midnight performances and daring improvisations.

The Laureate’s Performance

A public recital or saga that must stir the audience so deeply that even the stone statues in the hall weep, smile, or stir from enchantment.

The Fool’s Triumph
  • A public spectacle of their own creation, blending satire, tragedy, magic, and revelry into one unforgettable act. If the audience leaves transformed, laughing through tears; they are crowned Grand Fool.
Laureate
  • Sixth-year students (or graduating rank).
  • The highest student honor, marking readiness to leave the college.
  • Their “Laureate’s Performance” is both a final exam and public rite, often remembered for generations.
Laureate of the College

The highest student distinction, marking them as full-fledged bards, ready to serve kings, courts, or wander the world as emissaries of their craft.

Grand Fool of the Festival

The ultimate celebrant of bardic artistry. Their final performance is part comedy, part tragedy, part miracle; after which they’re free to roam as legends.

The Double Path

Rarely, a student dares to take both solemn and whimsical rites. This is called the Concordia.

At the final stage, they must perform The Twin Song: one half solemn saga, one half riotous comedy, woven together into a single act. Few succeed; those who do become legends, remembered as eternal voices of balance, earning the title Bard of Concordia.

Stressful Dreams About Family

This morning I woke up after a night of deep sleep, but troubled with stressful dreams. The memory of the dreams faded pretty rapidly, but I remember that they were about family members, and predictably there was conflict and violence. I have let go of many relationships with my family members a long time ago, and only kept it touch with those that were worth the effort. With the odd exception, I have no regrets about that, and recently I have even had the bandwidth to reach out to one or two. Nothing much, just to ask whether they’d be interested in a birthday dinner. It was good.

For the rest of them, it’s been over two decades; why are they still causing me stressful dreams? I don’t even accurately recall half of the horrific shit that happened, so why am I still impact by it?

“I am here for you.”

Previously, the heroes spent their time in the laboratory that they got assigned at the Circle of Magi coming up with a ritual that would help them trap and anchor Epidemius to the mortal plane so that they could defeat him once and for all. Headmistress of the Circle of Abjuration, Esmeralda d’Ortega came to help them draw up the ward they would need.

Eighth Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning, Bloodmoon is waxing, Darkmoon is in high sanction)

Neamhan was one of the last ones that needed to be added to the ward, and for that the heroes needed to find out what magic she resonated with. She claimed to find it difficult to perform her magic in the depths of a dungeon and needed to be under an open sky. Despite it being past eighth bell, and well past curfew, the heroes decided to head out into the city to find a suitable place for Neamhan to find her resonance.

As the heroes ascended the winding staircase Quentin remained behind a moment, lost in thought, mumbling to himself that he could not believe that “it” had worked, whatever “it” was. Astrid, who had stayed behind, caught his attention and said “If you ever want to discuss this”, indicating to the hand he had cut in the ritual to find his resonance, “I am here for you.” In return, Quentin said “If you ever want to discuss this”, and indicated to his belly, referring to her motherhood, “I am here for you.” Astrid was silent for a moment and said; “A royal bloodline ended with me, but perhaps one might start with you,” and the two went up the stairs together.

Once outside, the heroes found that the storm had died down. It had grown even colder, but the sky was clear and there was a still crispness in the air. Luca suggested that the herb garden in front of the Circle might do, and Quentin suggested the park at Blackheath. In the end, a gently wooded spot along the river, in the shadow of the Bastion of Clarity was chosen, and Esmeralda conjured up a portal that instantly took them there. Neamhan took her time in a clearing and made connections with all manner of nature around her; conjuring a bright light, illuminating the surroundings, allowing plants to grow and flourish, only to summon a storm that brought lightning down on the clearling. When the violence of the storm was over the ground below their feet was scorched by lightning, showing the same symbol that had appeared for Quentin, only upside down; instead of three blades in the shapeof an upright triangle, the triangle was pointing downward. The drum was registering many different symbols, but it appeared that the green lyrium crystal, corresponding with the school of transmutation, was the one that resonated with Neamhans’ magic.

Having drawn the attention of the crownsguard patrolling the ramparts, with shouts coming from atop the Bastion of Clarity, Esmeralda conjured up another portal which took the heroes back to the lobby of the Circle of Magi, and they returned back to the laboratory. Emrys played the lute, Astrid laid down on one of the beds, while Luca and Esmeralda continued to work on the design of the ward. No matter what Luca tried, he was not able to get any of the lyrium crystals they had in their possession to resonate with the magic he cast. For Quentin it was equally difficult to get a crystal to respond to him.

Esmeralda identified which part of the circle represented the subject, which represented the anchor, and which represented the death of the subject. She had identified several other elements which were important to what the heroes wanted to achieve, but she had more work to do. At the mention of death being part of the ward, Neamhan retrieved the piece of inscribed bark she had retrieved from the Newport library and showed it to Esmeralda, thinking it might be important. She had learned that the magic which radiated from the bark had been necromantic, and thus it peaked her interest. Esmeralda decided to identify the nature of the bark and found that it held a the secret of transfering life between the caster and a connected subject. Neamhan would have to spend some time learning how to establish that connection before she could make use of it.

The heroes wondered whether “death” or the “anchor” might be related to the monstrosity they had spotted coming out of Blackheath. Cardinal Roark suggested that the Raven Queen’s bane was an anchoring of sorts, preventing the subject of the bane from moving to its afterlife. Quentin had a feeling this might be the case with the undead monstrosity, and so the heroes suggested to investigate Blackheath.

First, they made a trip to the Careless Wanderer, arriving there after tenth bell, so that they could get a quick bite to eat before heading out. Each excursion after the curfew was enforced was a drain on their resources, but at least they had ways to get around unseen by crownsguard or custodians.

The park at Blackheath was dark and desolate. Tall trees that had stood for generations were a pleasant break from urban life. In the centre of Blackheath the heroes found a cemetary in front of a small place of worship. A mausoleum leading into an underground crypt was also part of the cemetary. Necrophages could be heard skittering and stalking around the headstones in the cemetary, but Quentin was steadfast and strode ahead, unafraid. The necrophages kept at a distance until the undead monstrosity appeared from the mausoleum doorway, shovel in hand and ready to engage.

Ward of Achoring

Previously, the heroes repeatedly fought an undead monstrosity which came to collect bodies, and Chakuq helped Dagran to craft a tuning fork singing the song of his people while fueled by mind-altering mushrooms. The resulting tuning fork resonated with Chakuq’s song, but also with a violet lyrium crystal that Dagran had acquired. Luca was introduced to the laboratory at the Circle of Magi that he was promised, and Emrys managed to convince Lord Andew to send Aubrey to live out the winter at his ancestral home, away from the maliciousness of the Beauclair delegation.

Eighth Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning, Bloodmoon is waxing, Darkmoon is in high sanction)

All of the heroes had gathered in the laboratory at what felt like the bottom of the Circle of Magi’s campus. Emrys had forgotten to pick up a drum from the College of Bards, so the heroes were discussing on how to progress their research into the ritual. Luca was convinced it would require a bespoke warding circle, so he started drawing one. Shortly after he started the heroes heard the door at the top of the winding stairs open and saw the silhouette of a figure walking down, passing by the open archways along the interior wall.

Esmeralda d’Ortega, archmage and headmistress of the Circle of Abjuration, had heard about the heroes being assigned the laboratory and wanted to come and see what they were up to. The heroes had met her on their way from Egremont to Blackbridge, and she had replaced Dr. Arkenward at the head of the Circle of Abjuration when he was appointed the Royal Abjurer. Since then she had followed the exploits of the Heroes of the White Eye closely. When Luca explains their intention, she offered her help and expertise. Any good warding circle consisted of source of magic, how magic is drawn into the ward, and the protective elements that the magic fueled. As Luca spoke, she corrected and expanded the circle using charcoal from the furnace. Soon, she had discarded all formalities, and was on her knees, with charcoal-stained hands and streaks of soot on her face, engrossed in the work.

Luca added to the drawing, and Esmeralda asked more and more questions; Who would be involved? What were their strengths? What was the source of their power? This lead Chakuq to share about the resonance of his people’s song, the tuning fork, and the violet lyrium crystal in Dagran’s possession. Information was collected on each of the heroes;

Esmeralda turned to Emrys, and being familiar with him, quickly concluded what his source of power was; his sorcery, the chaotic magic at the heart of it, and his bloodline connection to the Mohiam.

When she asked Chakuq he carefully explained the song of his people was the source of his strength, that was in touch with nature, and that he relished the hunt. He believed that his resonance with the violet crystal was important, and that some answers may be found in the book he retrieved from the Newport library.

Neamhan claimed that her powers did not come from the gods, something Esmeralda accepted without question. Neamhan, too, was in touch with nature, with the skies, and with storms.

Quentin hesitated, and took a moment to answer. He stayed quiet through suggestions that it was his connection to the Raven Queen, and eventually resolutely said that it was his ancestry, his bloodline. When Neamhan asked Esmeralda whether she was familiar with the Blood of Alban, she said she was not, and she was too engrossed in the ward to ask after it.

Luca finally admitted that his power came from his obedience to his patron.

When the question came to Astrid she did not know how to answer. Neamhan angered her by repeatedly suggesting it was her motherhood that gave her power, but she rejected that and said it was vengeance. Exploring that a little, it was concluded that her strength was fury, channeled through her raptor totem.

Each of them got additions to the drawing on the floor, ley lines that channeled magic into the ward.

There was an ongoing conversation about Chakuq’s newfound resonance with the violet crystal, and whether the others might also resonate with a type of lyrium crystal. There were eight crystals, which corresponded with the different schools of magic, and there were two others; radiant and shadow. An attempt was made to discover the resonance of others, using a drum that was supplied by Olafur, some fine, dry sand, and the tuning fork.

The the tuning fork caused the sand to dance around the skin of the drum. Eventually it settled in a particular pattern, rounded on one side with wave-like lines on the other, that Esmeralda seemed to divine some meaning from. This symbol was added to the ward. Luca used one of his spells on the drum, and again the sand jumbled to reveal a symbol, a bifurcated triangle. This too was added to the ward. Emrys did the same to reveal something which looked somewhat like a trident. Astrid let out a deafening screech, like that of an eagle, which echoed through the tower and left a sunburst pattern on the drum. Quentin, unsure of how to evoke the same response from the sand, cut his palm, dropped blood on the sand and touched his other hand to the talisman and raven feather around his neck. The sand formed in the shape of three overlapping, blade-like leaves.

Neamhan would go last, as she needed to leave the tower in order to find her power.

A few notable things were added to the ward; a place to represent the subject, Epidemius, a space to represent shadow, and a space to represent radiance. It was likely that many things would still be added, altered, and removed from the ward before it was fit for purpose.

Ben Ali Libi, de Goochelaar

Op een lijst van artiesten, in de oorlog vermoord,
staat een naam waarvan ik nog nooit had gehoord,
dus keek ik er met verwondering naar:
Ben Ali Libi. Goochelaar.

Met een lach en een smoes en een goocheldoos
en een alibi dat-ie zorgvuldig koos,
scharrelde hij de kost bij elkaar:
Ben Ali Libi, de goochelaar.

Toen vonden de vrienden van de Weduwe Rost
dat Nederland nodig moest worden verlost
van het wereldwijd joods-bolsjewistisch gevaar.
Ze bedoelden natuurlijk die goochelaar.

Wie zo dikwijls een duif of een bloem had verstopt,
kon zichzelf niet verstoppen, toen er hard werd geklopt.
Er stond al een overvalwagen klaar
voor Ben Ali Libi, de goochelaar.

In ‘t concentratiekamp heeft hij misschien
zijn aardigste trucs nog wel eens laten zien
met een lach en een smoes, een misleidend gebaar,
Ben Ali Libi, de goochelaar.

En altijd als ik een schreeuwer zie
met een alternatief voor de democratie,
denk ik: jouw paradijs, hoeveel ruimte is daar
voor Ben Ali Libi, de goochelaar.

Voor Ben Ali Libi, de kleine schlemiel,
hij ruste in vrede, God hebbe zijn ziel.

– Willem Wilmink