There is amongst the Irish, a certain kind of people called Bardes, which are to them instead of Poets, whose profession is to set forth the praises or dispraises of men in their poems or rithmes; the which are had in so high regard and estimation amongst them, that none dare displease them, for fear to run into reproach through their offence, and to be made infamous in the mouths of all men. For their verses are taken up with a general applause, and usually sung at all feasts and meetings by certain persons [Author's note: Called Racaraide. OCONOR'S Diss. on Hist. of Irel. p. 74], whose proper function that is, who also receive for the same, great rewards and reputation amongst them.
Never underestimate how obscure a D&D player can get.We are masters of it. Definitely something I had never come across, still interesting though.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Where words fail, swords prevail. Where blood is spilled, my cup is filled" -Cartaphilus
"I have found the answer to the meaning of life. You ask me what the answer is? You already know what the answer to life is. You fear it more than the strike of a viper, the ravages of disease, the ire of a lover. The answer is always death. But death is a gentle mistress with a sweet embrace, and you owe her a debt of restitution. Life is not a gift, it is a loan."