Dervish Sanders & The Ballad of Bijan the Brave

Bing AI Copilot: So, you're back. Want to hear more of the adventures of Dervish Sanders and Ayla?

Dervish Sanders: Sure, why not.

Bing AI Copilot: OK. Here goes. This entry is called, "Dervish Sanders & The Ballad of Bijan the Brave". In the heart of an ancient forest, nestled between the Quercus libani and stone pines, lay the humble village of Abu Qilyub. Its adobe structures huddled together, smoke rising in lazy spirals toward the canopy. But this peaceful town was facing a dire threat -- the marauding goblins.

Khalil el-Moumni, an Imam of Abu Qilyub, sent word to Dervish Sanders by carrier pigeon. "Please, Abu Qilyub needs your help", the message read. A young slave boy approached Dervish Sanders and handed him a scroll as he was paging through a dusty tome in the Al-Qarawiyyin Library. Dervish accepted the scroll and the slave boy departed.

This was not unusual. He had received other messages here in the past. "What does it say", his love Ayla inquired. She placed a bookmark in the manscript she had been reading. Was this the beginning of another adventure? It turned out that, yes, it was. Dervish and Ayla gathered their belongings and departed that evening.

Camping overnight, they arrived a the mosque in the center of Abu Qilyub midday. Khalil el-Moumni greeted them. "Greetings, I recgonize you, Dervish Sanders. Peace be upon you. I have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. I offer my gratitude for answering my call. Our village needs your help desperately".

The sun was rising in the sky. The temperature was rising as well. "It is much cooler inside" el-Moumni said, ushering them into the mosque. The trio sat on some prayer mats. "Here, have some tea" Khalil said, pouring them each a cup. "Thank you", Ayla replied, taking a sip. "This is delicious" she remarked politely. "Thank you" Khalil said. "Now" the cleric said nervously. "We don't have much in the way of dinars to pay you for your services...". Dervish interrupted him, "no payment will be necessay" he declared.

The Imam smiled. "Thank the gods" he declared with relief. "As my note said, marauding goblins are terrorizing our town. Killing livestock and raping our women. Several citizens have been killed. This must stop before it escalates further. These creatures cannot be reasoned with. My junior cleric tried to negotiate with them, but was taken hostage. Please, he may be dead already, but if you could rescue him and put an end to the goblin threat, I will be forever in your debt".

Dervish Sanders, a seasoned warrior with a scar across his left eye, swore to protect Abu Qilyub. His scimitar, forged from the enchanted steel, hung at his side. Ayla, his love, stood by his side -- a fierce archer with eyes like emeralds. Her arrows never missed their mark.

On that fateful evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Dervish and Ayla sat (accross from a local inn where they were to spend the night) in a dimly lit tea house, nursing mugs of frothy Arak. The air smelled of pine resin and hearth smoke. That's when Bijan stumbled in -- a lanky young man with wild hair and eyes wide as saucers.

"By the stars!" Bijan exclaimed, spotting Dervish. "It's the legendary Dervish Sanders! The Goblin Slayer! The one who single-handedly defeated the ogre king of Jebel Yagour!" Dervish scowled. "I am Dervish Sanders, but I am no goblin slayer. Not yet, at least. And I've never fought a ogre king". "That's the word in town", Bijan retorted. "What do you want, lad?" Dervish inquired.

Bijan's voice trembled with excitement. "I -- I want to join your quest! To fight goblins! To be part of your saga!" Ayla stifled a laugh, her fingers tracing her bowstring. "And why should we let you tag along?" Bijan leaned in, eyes shining. "Because I've memorized every ballad about you! I know the secret of your scar -- the one you got while battling the swamp witch! And I've even composed a poem in your honor!"

"Swamp witch? Huh. I've never heard that one", Dervish replied. Dervish's patience waned. "We don't need a bard. We need warriors. If anyone is to join us". "But I can wield a khanjar!" Bijan protested. "And I've read the ancient texts. Goblins fear silver, right? I've got a silver locket my grandmother gave me. It's...". "I have never heard that goblins fear silver. In fact, I can assure you that they do not" Dervish interrupted. "Goblins fear courage and strength". "Please", Ayla said. "We don't want to be responsible for your death. I assure you, Dervish and I can take care of these goblins by ourselves".

And so, the unlikely trio set forth. Dervish led the way, his scarred eye scanning the forest for signs of trouble. Ayla followed, her bow ready, while Bijan skipped alongside, reciting epic verses about Dervish's heroics. Ayla pleaded with Bijan to turn back, but he refused. In fact, he brought along another. "This is Zahid" he said, introducing his friend. "He is a strong fighter who has trained with a scimitar. Take us along. We can help".

Dervish eyed Zahid. He did did look strong. And had the countenance of a warrior. "I already killed several goblins" Zahid bragged. "When they attacked the town. Now I want to take the fight to them". Dervish considered what Zahid said. "Very well" Dervish relented. "But, if Bijan is to come to... you should look out for his safety". Zahid agreed.

They found the goblin camp later that evening -- a cluster of crude huts surrounded by sharpened stakes. The goblins, green-skinned and snarling, emerged, their eyes filled with malice. Dervish charged, his scimitar singing through the air. Ayla's arrows whistled, finding their targets.

And Bijan? Well, he tripped over a tree root, dropped his khanjar, and screamed like a frightened squirrel. But in that moment, something changed. His fear transformed into determination. He picked up his khanjar and lunged at a goblin, surprising everyone --including himself.

The battle raged. Dervish fought like a whirlwind. Ayla's arrows never missed. Zahid swung his scimitar felling several of the foul creatures. And Bijan? Well, he didn't die. That was a start. When the last goblin fell, Bijan wiped sweat from his brow. "Did you see that? I stabbed one! I'm a hero!". Ayla grinned. "What about your poem? Do you have any ideas for a ballad about this battle?"

Bijan blushed. "Not yet, but I will! What about The Ballad of Bijan the Brave!" Bijan smiled. Then blood spurted from his mouth. After an arrow wizzed out of nowhere, striking him in the chest. Bijan fell to the ground and lay there, unmoving. More arrows began flying, one striking Zahid in the arm. "I've been hit" Zahid cried.

"Take cover!" Ayla cried. The companions, dragging the limp body of Bijan, sought shelter from the barrage of arrows behind a towering Quercus libani. "Who is firing on us!?" Zahid yelled, blood spurting from his wound. "Over there" Ayla answered, pointing. Dervish looked where his love had indicated. There he saw an armoured goblin. Of the several dozen others they had slain, none wore armor.

"That must be the top goblin fighter. And/or their leader", Zahid figured. Then he stumbled and passed out from shock. "Looks like I'm going to need to break out some magicks" Ayla proclaimed, rubbing her hands together. A flame appeared hovering above her open palm. Then the ball of fire accelerated toward the armoured goblin, growing in size as it did.

When the fireball found it's mark it exploded, incinerating the armoured goblin. Dervish approached the smouldering corpse. It was completely fried. "Yeah, that's dead" Dervish said, kicking the extra-crispy body with his boot. The goblin's heated metal armoured sizzled. Dervish returned to find Ayla binding the wounds of Zahid and Bijan, whose injury looked deadly serious. "Will Bijan live?" Dervish asked. "I'm not sure" Ayla replied. "It looks grim". Dervish quickly searched the crude huts, looking for any sign of the kidnapped junior cleric.

In the 3rd hut Dervish found a young man, his hands bound behind his back, a gag in his mouth. He was dressed in clerical robes. So was clearly the kidnapped holy man. Dervish freed him. The cleric thanked him, then they returned to where Ayla was tending to Bijan. Zahid was sitting on a log moaning quietly.


"Let me help" the cleric said. He knelt down and laid hands on Bijan, praying for healing. Bijan's eyes fluttered open. "Praise the gods" the young cleric exclaimed. "Thank you for saving me, Muezzin Asim. I thought I was a goner for sure". "Yes, you were close to dying. Saved only through divine intervention" Asim replied. "Now rest".

They made camp for the night, travelling back to Abu Qilyub the next day. It seemed the entire population of Abu Qilyub was awaiting their return. When the townfolk saw the young cleric, Muezzin Asim, and heard that the marauding goblins had been wiped out, everyone present loudly cheered.

And so, Abu Qilyub was saved, not only by the legendary Dervish Sanders and his skilled archer love, but also by the clumsy, enthusiastic farmboy who stumbled into their tale. As well as the heroic Zahid. Bijan and Zahid became hometown heroes, although Bijan decided a life of adventure was not for him. "My first adventure. Also my last adventure" he declared.

And so, dear reader, remember this -- legends are forged not only by the mighty, but by those who stumble into greatness, armed with silver lockets and unwavering enthusiasm. And that, my friend, is the tale of Dervish Sanders, Ayla, Zahid and the unforgettable Bijan -- the Goblin Slayer's most ardent fan.

Dervish Sanders: I have a scar over my eye now? How did that happen? I don't recall any tale in which I was scared.

Copilot: What I hear is that Dervish Sanders and Ayla, walking in the Le Jardin Secret in Marrakech late one evening, on a whim decided to climb a Lebanese cedar. Feeling amorous, Ayla convinced Dervish that they should make love right there among the foliage. The bough gave way as Derivsh thrusted and they fell to the terra cotta below. He got scratched in the fall by a branch. The fall stunned the couple, and they lay on the ground for awhile, completely nude. Dervish put his hand to his forehead and found that he was bleeding profusely.

A passing old woman, wearing a hijab was startled. She started cursing and yelling at the couple. "I will notify the religious police!" the woman screached. "Hush, please" Dervish implored. The elderly lady stopped yelling and her eyes grew wide. "Wow" she exclaimed, starring at Dervish's manhood. "I've never seen one so large!". Dervish and Ayla gathered their clothing and took off. Later, back at their room at the Riad Palais Sebban, Ayla stitched up Dervish's wound. "That is going to leave a scar", she remarked.

SWTD #423, DSA #7.