Corpus Tamrielicum - The Imperial Library

[19] First Scroll of Baan Dar
[19] FIRST SCROLL OF BAAN DAR
First Scroll of Baan Dar
by Arkan
What follows is a translation of the first fragment from a series of vellum scrolls found in 3
Alabaster jars sealed in a cave. The discoverer was a nomad wanderer somewhere on the
shores of Lake Vread in the Province of Elswyer. I can neither vouch for nor deny its
authenticity or veracity - only that the scrolls, as such, DO exist. Read and judge for yourself:
Baan Dar, The Legend... Thief, Warlock, ShadowMaster, Ruthless Assassin, Undying
Avenger, Dark God, Robber Baron, MasterMind of Nefarious Plots. All these things and
more are the Legendary Baan Dar, he who is called The Bandit God. But what is the Truth?
Baan Dar, The Man is a much more simple and complex being. I pen this tale as I slowly die
of old age and a mortifying arrow wound. I cannot decide if the truth will add to or subtract
from the legend that is Baan Dar, nor if the original Baan Dar would want the truth to be
known. Therefore, I will leave this tale hidden when I am done and gone, and let Fate (which
was ever Baan Dar's true master and motivator) decide.
I was a child of 12 Seasons when I first met Baan Dar. Orphan of a Slaver raid during one of
the many inter-provincial border wars. Living by my quick wits, nimble fingers, and the grace
of Lady Luck in the back alleys and byways of my birth city. I had just "liberated" a loaf of
bread and a few small apples from a local street vendor in the Bazaar on the edge of the city
near the tumbled outer wall, and had withdrawn down an ill-lit alley to feast on my bounty
when I was beset by an older band of my ilk. The older and lazier variety which were want to
engage in the easier and less dangerous art of stealing from the stealers. There were 5 of the
bully boys who had decided they were more deserving of my booty than I, and they were
beating me half to death with staves in between bites and laughter at the time.
Lying on the ground curled up into as tight a ball as I could manage, trying to protect my head
and groin, I heard a quiet voice ask if they were not "more suited to go down to the wharf and
take food from your brother rats, or would you care to try your tricks on game a bit more your
size and number?" Since my "companions" had become otherwise engaged with the
newcomer and had for the nonce ceased thumping, kicking and cuffing at me, I looked up to
see a dark shadow of boots, cloak, and chainmail hood leaning against the wall at the end of
the alleyway.
The others, being what they were, took this as a challenge to their manhood - and easy prey to
their superior number with a promise of coin of the realm as added reward (else the first part
would have been overlooked). The leader of my band of playmates suggested that the stranger
take a leap off the mentioned wharf unless he wished to join me there when they were done
with their evening meal. Having drawn chuckles and courage from his underlings, he then
proceeded forward with staff at high port. I'm not quite sure exactly what followed, but within
a short space of time, Lead Bully was lying in the dirt with a thrown dagger in his chest,
number two bully had lost three teeth to a boot (I still carry them in a leather pouch as a
keepsake), and number three bully was brought short by his own staff applied forcefully up
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