The Storyteller's Night

Late in the evening, at a small inn on the road between Balsik and Melion

"You know, it's been some time since we began this adventure and I still know next to nothing about you..."
I glanced at the halfling sorcerer; it was obvious he could barely contain his curiosity. Why not? We did have time before our ranger returned from his mission, so I sat on the bed to gather my thoughts for a bit.
"Oh, my apologies, I didn't mean to bother you." His concerned face made me smile.
"No, no, nothing like that, I got lost in a flashback again. What you ask for is a story that spans four decades, you sure you won't fall asleep, Deh?"
The barbarian, who was sitting quietly until that moment, flashed us his half-orc grin and gestured impatiently for me to start.
"Once upon a time, in a town called Quan Ma, there lived a rich landlord..."

40 years prior

"Hey, get up! The servants are just looking for an excuse to skip work!" Okar Amarizi shouted to his sons "The crops won't gather themselves!"
A large, middle-aged man, Okar was the only child of a poor farmer. One day while expanding the field, he discovered a large boulder, just beneath the surface. He spent many days trying to dig it out, but under it lay a reward for all his toil, and then some  - a small treasure of golden coins. In just a few years he bought the neighbouring farms, built a large manor and married.
His wife blessed with him with two sons, but died giving birth to their third child, a girl. Six years later he still mourned her.
After sending his sons to oversee the harvest, Okar went to the carriage, with which he travelled to the town centre from time to time. His daughter, Issa, was already seated and waiting. It was market-day.

The inn

The large half-orc grunted, he didn't like stories without at least three mutilated bodies. Deh however shushed him and invited me to continue.
"Okar had already bought what he needed, and was just enjoying the nice afternoon with his daughter..."

Quan Ma city market, 40 years prior

Issa grabbed her father's hand and pointed to the horseman, galloping towards the town square. Once there, he dismounted, stood still for a moment to catch his breath, and whispered something to the criers, who had already surrounded him. In an instant they spread through the crowd with the news - a large group of bandits was attacking the eastern farms!
Instantly forgetting about the market, Okar shouldered his daughter and ran to his carriage. He untied the horses and spurred them home; the whole time praying to whatever god would listen. The eastern farms, his farms!
He could see the smoke from a distance, but that just made him hit the horses harder. The house was on fire and there was no one in the fields. ("No, no, no, no!") He told Issa to stay in the carriage and bolted through the garden.
Once inside, Okar found a massacre - seven of his servants, all elderly, mostly the former owners of the surrounding land, tied up, their throats slit. From the younger workers there was no sign.  He walked hurriedly past the dead, his heart gripped by fear. At the entrance to the kitchen lay another body. ("No, no, no, no!") A young body. ("No!") Still clutching a sword in hand. ("NO!")
Okar fell to his knees next to his elder son. His foolish, brave, elder son.
He stood there for a bit, but the fire was spreading faster now, forcing him to make a quick sweep of the second floor. Thankfully, there weren't any dead there, so he proceeded to drag his son outside.
"Well, well, well." Okar spun around, only to freeze in his tracks. Opposite of him stood a bandit with a loaded crossbow. "I knew I heard the clatter of hoofs." The two men sized each other, until a squeal drew the bandit's attention. It was Issa, paralyzed with fear, standing at the door.
"Would you look at that... She'd fetch a good price on the market."
Okar lunged at the bandit as his face was turned away, only to be rewarded by a sudden stabbing pain. He looked down to his abdomen, puzzled, and placed a hand around the bolt protruding out of him. He made an uncertain step, willing his body onward, but the world grew quiet and faded out as he collapsed to the ground, dead.