Compassion - Iolo and the Brigands
It is a sunny day when an old mage walks into one of the lecture rooms of the Lycaeum in Moonglow. Immediately attentive eyes are set on him, thirsty for knowledge, and the old mage blinks and relishes the excited looks of his young students for a moment. Thirsty for knowledge and excited their eyes are set on him, waiting for a word of his lips. The old mage smiles warmly and greets his students, his thoughts half caught in the piece of history he would tell them today. “All of you have heard about the virtues already…” he starts and waits until the mumbling of his students stops. “And I do not have to tell you how important they are!” Acceding muttering is heard. “One of the most important virtues is compassion. This is what we will talk about today – the virtue of compassion and the man who still is kept in high honours. Past comparison and still searching for an equal amount of compassion this virtue is still credited to one man…” the old mage pauses a moment and takes a sip of water. With his last words his voice had fallen into a melodious singsong, and his students know that now the time for a story has come. “Today, my dear seekers of knowledge, I will tell you about this man. This is the tale of Iolo and the brigand.”
“Iolo, at least well known and some might even say famous already at that times, was a bard, archer and freeholder, as well as the trusted friend and champion of our dear Lord British himself. It was, therefore, no wonder that his neighbours often turned to him in search of advice, help and assistance.
And so it happened that one day Iolo heard of a plague named Edric. Edric was a brigand by trade, and he had started to afflict the trails that cut through the wild forests and hills of that region. History teaches us that this brigand was cruel and vile, with no thoughts for the lives or honour of his victims, and robbery was the least of his felonies.
The honest and upright inhabitants of that region were upset and worried about the scoundrel Edric, and so they finally addressed Iolo with the plea for aid and assistance. Iolo, in the meantime, courageous and helpful as he was, did not hesitate but put aside his lute and exchanged it with his mighty crossbow. Although his wife’s face was shadowed with sorrow Iolo kissed her good bye and shouldered his pack – the vow on his lips that he would not return to the safety and warmth of his home until he had freed the land of the menace Edric.
Iolo did not have to search for long until he found the track of the villain Edric. He followed the scoundrel, and the trail led him into a rough and hilly region where he pursued the villain across the treacherous heights and valleys. Now Edric could almost feel the breath of his persecutor on his neck and he knew that once he was caught he could not count on mercy. And so it happened that the brigand concocted a plan of devilish efficiency. The brigand and his follower finally reach a cliff which sprawled majestically over a small village in the mountains. Edric knew that Iolo was very close to him already, and so he did not spend one of his vile thoughts to the poor people, but he pried loose a single boulder and set it to rolling down the cliff face, and as it rolled it caught more rocks and boulders, which in turn caught more rocks and boulders, until at last a mighty avalanche fell down upon the tiny village. Agony was huge, many people were wounded and even more shops and homes were completely destroyed by the stony deluge. Even worse, the only pass that led to the village, the only way that supplied the inhabitants with food and clothes and other resources was blocked.
Iolo, a good man he was indeed, did the only thing that was right: he stayed in the village and helped the people. Although his rage against Edric knew no bounds he did not hesitate but descend down to the village, and there he spent several days digging out the living and the dead, offering help and comfort to everyone in need. And so, although Iolo did not allow himself to rest, and although he worked with all indulgence and courage he could, Edric, the brigand, managed to escape his equitable punishment.
The old man pauses and his grey eyes relish the sight of his students. “What happened then, Master? Did Iolo give up? Or did he proceed and finally catch the scoundrel?” A young girl with flaming red hair demands to know. For a short moment the babble of voices is heard, then the old mage waves with his hand. “No, my dear, Iolo would not have been the man he was if he had given up that quickly.” He sighs and takes another sip of the water, moving his old bones into a more comfortable position. “So, let me tell you what happened…”
As soon as Iolo was sure that his aid was not needed anymore in the small mountain village, he resumed his chase, and did not take him long until he again pressed his foe. Unluckily, this time Edric was prepared to deal with his nemesis and so it happened that he led Iolo into a certain town deep within the forests. Now, the ill-natured mind of the brigand had thought of another horrid plan, and so Edric, unexcelled in cruelty, poisoned the only well of the town in the night he was passing through it. Not long after Iolo arrived at this place to find many of the townsfolk struck with a horrible, deadly affliction. His conscience did not allow this compassionate man to pass by, and so Iolo paused in his pursuit again and helped to minister to the sick and the dying, and laboured to cleanse the fouled well. Edric in the meantime laughed up his sleeve – and once more the brigand escaped the hand of Iolo.
Iolo had confirmed and oath to free the realm of the scoundrel, and so he continued his chase although his good heart was overshadowed by fury now. He pressed his opponent hard, and as he had foreseen in his wisdom, Edric finally had to flee away from any civilization. So it happened that Edric came over a cavern mouth, leading into a dark cave, and so he quickly made up the ill-natured plan to hide in this cave and wait for Iolo’s arrival to surprise and kill his pursuer in the safety of the shadows, just like a creature like him would do. As deathly as this plan sounded though, it was folly. What Edric did not know was that the cavern mouth led to one of those protean pits of vileness called “Dungeons” which have infested our land since time immemorial, and the name of this particular Dungeon was Despise.
The perils of dungeons are many, and Edric in his ignorance was not careful. It did not take long until Iolo cautiously entered Despite, the grip on his crossbow was tight, attentively staring into the shadows of the pit he knew from earlier. He did not have to walk far when the pleading voice of Edric reached his ear. To Iolo’s feet was a black and gaping deadfall and far below, from some unguessed depth of the pit, the voice of Edric was pitifully crying for aid, pleading that his leg had broken in the fall.
Finally Iolo had caught Edric, and while he was staring into the depth he greeted the villain and cried out: “I would happily lower you a rope, but I do not have one with me!” And with pardonable cruelty he added: “I will go and fetch one, I shall return in no more than a week.”
Edric, terrified and motionless on the bottom of the dark pit, begged for mercy. “I know that you are a Bard and a man of Compassion! I pray you, climb down and help me! Don’t let me rot in this dark pit until I either starve or some beast comes to get me.”
“I bet that Iolo walked away!” one of the students shouts, his blonde, short hair flying around, his cheeks reddened. “No, Iolo rescued Edric! He climbed down the pit and carried him out!” another student disagreed. Several voices become loud and with a smile on his wrinkled face the old man allows his students to discuss the different options. After some time he says, his voice slowly falling into the strange sing-sang again: “Both of you are right, and both of you aren’t. Now let me finish the tale of compassion, the tale of Iolo…”
Iolo stood at the lip of the pit, and weighed his options. Nobody would have condemned him to just let the brigand die as he had deserved it with uncounted evil deeds. But Iolo listened to his heart, and so after a while he said: “I see that you, who have so grossly abused my Compassion for so long, have no true idea of its nature. Compassion is the due wage of innocence, and for a child or honest farmer I would cheerfully brave that pit. Such as you, however, have no claim on compassion whatsoever, for your proper dish is Justice.” But then, as Edric blubbered below, he added, “However, I am no judge or Druid, so I will grant you such Compassion as is prudent for one such as yourself.”
Without any further word Iolo left the dungeon and soon he came across a sturdy tree from which he cut a branch that was suitable for a crutch. With this he returned to Despise and the hole of Edric again and without listening to his blabbering that they were things slitting around in the darkness, he threw down the crutch.
“Here then is your Compassion, that you need not wait for death immobile and helpless. With this you can move about, and you already have water, tender, torches and a sword. Now get up, and make your way out if you can. You have my word that if you ever see the open air again, I will be waiting for you.”
And so Iolo left the dungeon and well aware that if Edric should escape the depths of Despise he would bring evil to the realm again he pitched up a camp and waited. He bided there at the dungeon entrance two days and two nights, waiting attentively, but when the first sunrays lightened up the sky the third time he broke the camp and returned home, accompanied by the good wishes and prayers of the many people he had helped on this journey. Until today no one can say for sure that Edric perished in the shadows of Despise, but never again the lands were bedraggled by his evil deeds or even the word of them. And this, my friends, is the end of the tale of Iolo, the man who was more compassionate than anyone else, and the vile Edric.
