[ WP ] `` gather around children , let me tell you a tale of the warriors son ''

The cold air nipped at Trevor's exposed flesh. He knew he should have been better prepared, but when a man is in a hurry, he tends to leave important things behind. He pulled the linen cloak over his arms and scooted closer the the roaring campfire. 
 
 It'd been far too long since the Swordsworn had ventured into the deep woods to find their magic man. Trevor worried that perhaps the forces of the newly undead king had found them. Fear, he found, was far more chilling than the bite of early spring. 
 
 The loud snap of a branch alerted him to an approaching stranger. Trevor was on his feet in an instant, his bow taut and ready to fire. A wrinkly man with a gentle expression held his hands above his head. 
 
 `` Oh! I did not mean to startle you, good sir!'' The voice of the elderly man called, `` I am but a humble bard, I mean you no harm!'' 
 
 Trevor relaxed the bow string and let the arrow hang slack. 
 
 `` Old man, you should not sneak up on people.'' 
 
 `` I apologize, sir. I saw a fire and well,'' The old bard motioned to someone in the trees, `` I was wondering if my charges and I could warm themselves? We'll be no trouble, I assure you.'' 
 
 The dirty faces of two small boys stared at Trevor expectantly. A tired sigh escaped his lips as he gestured towards the fire. With glee, the children huddled around the fire with outstretched hands. The old bard chuckled and took a seat next to Trevor. 
 
 `` Thank you, my dear boy. I am Freeling the Bard and these two lads are Eldin and Yervin. They lost their family when the undead king took over the city.'' 
 
 `` I have heard of you, Freeling.'' Trevor cast a weary glance around the wooded area, `` You are quite popular in the Southern Reach.'' 
 
 Freeling chuckled and gestured to nowhere in particular, `` My boy, I've played in every hold in the kingdom but I will always be popular in the Southern Reach, for it was my childhood home.'' 
 
 `` Indeed? Then you must know the story of the Warrior's Son?'' Trevor stared into the crackling fire. 
 
 The old bard raised his brow in surprise. Rarely did anyone know of the Warrior's Son unless they were from a very specific village in the Southern Reach. Freeling pondered on Trevor's words for a moment before launching into the tale. 
 
 `` Yes, gather around children, let me tell you a tale of the Warrior's Son.'' Freeling began; 
 
 `` It was long ago, when old Freeling was young, 
 That there lived a Warrior, her husband, and her son, 
 The Warrior was fury with a blade, 
 Her husband was a spell weaver like in the old days, 
 Their child was gifted with the powers of his sire, 
 Which would serve him well when things got dire, 
 When the old king's reign was tyrannous and dark, 
 The Warrior's son, on a journey embarked, 
 His brothers in arms, the king's own brother, 
 They defeated the dark king with help from one another, 
 When peace settled with such grace, 
 The Warrior's Son vanished without a trace,'' 
 
 The children's eyes were wide with awe as Freeling dramatically swung his arms about. Trevor smiled wryly to himself as the old bard finished his story with a great sweep of his arms. 
 
 `` Where did he go? The Warrior's Son had to go somewhere, did n't he?'' Eldin curiously probed. 
 
 `` Legend says that he retreated to this very forest.'' Trevor's low voice caught their attention, `` To meditate upon his life until the world was threatened once again.'' 
 
 `` Indeed. How does a man such as yourself know of these things?'' Freeling knit his bushy eyebrows together. 
 
 Trevor regarded the old man briefly before turning his gaze back to the fire, `` Because I came here to look for him.''
