"It was a ratfolk raised in the Northern Frontier... Like all Slave Rats, it was driven by its base instincts. All it knew was how to eat and shit..."
The tavern patrons rarely heard stories with a ratfolk as the hero, and they listened with keen interest. To Annan, though, it sounded ordinary. He had thought the Bard would have news about the ratfolk in the North.
How was this important business?
"...The Thirteen High Kings enacted the Foreign Races Edict across every human empire. Not long after, a band of Mercenaries found it. As a ratfolk, it should have died in the wild like a stray dog. Ironically, because ratfolk were among the Foreign Races, the edict saved its life. It was captured and thrown into the Dungeon."
"In the Dungeon, it met prisoners of many races. Whether they had been enemies or friends outside, here they were all captives of humanity. They set aside their old feelings, and by living among them day after day, it learned the Common Tongue."
"That should have meant nothing. They were merely achievements for officials to claim, and one day they would be hauled out and hanged to advance those officials' careers... Until this day came."
"A Deputy Warden calling himself Young Miss Olmedo appeared in the Dungeon. He told the prisoners he would get them out..."
Annan sat up a little straighter. He had not expected the Bard to tell his story.
But it still had nothing to do with the important business.
"Some of the prisoners believed him. Others didn't. It thought nothing at all. Thoughts were a luxury for a Slave Rat. But the Deputy Warden kept his word. He improved the prisoners' living conditions, made the guards clean the place, and finally got them out of the Dungeon.