Cosaint

Beannachtaí an lae daoibh, 's go raibh síochán i gconaí libh.

My name is Cosaint, and I'm Armengarian. No, most Armengarians don't dress like this, and it's not something I particularly want to discuss right now. There are far better things to discuss, and, though there are those who might object, sartorial commentary has yet to be deemed a bardly art.

So instead tell me your stories, and let me tell you mine. For make no mistake, every bard is a story-teller through one medium or another; from those who hold their audiences captivated with a tale intoned around the campfire, to those whose illuminations of the written word draw the eye and engender new understanding; and in every story lurk five more to be told and a lifetime's worth of secrets to be uncovered.

Too grandiose? Then hand me my guitar and let me sing you a song to weep to or tell you a tale to make you wonder how much sorrow one living soul can withstand, for that is what I am known for now as much as anything else. Just remember what I have said about stories, and maybe we can come back to it one day.

After all, sometimes there is no art greater than simply to talk.