Nilme/Songs

This page is a work in progress. The lyrics will be added when it is possible to do so.

Original Songs

Nilme is a prolific writer enjoying both writing freely and adhering to restrictive poetry forms. She also enjoys being commissioned to write for people and events, making them as personalized as possible. The songs below were written from 371 AV to the present. (2004-2021). Singers in Elanthia are welcome to use these songs as long as she is credited for her work.

If there are any questions regarding the use of Nilme's songs, or to commission a piece, contact her in game or OOC: Discord- Nilme Iondu'il#2122

Autobiographical

Nilme's Tale

Orphaned at an early age when evil chose a mortal sin, a fair young child with blue-black hair, her tale, in sorrow, doth begin. Her parents (strong, Ilithic souls) did travel far and wide, they say. to sing the 'Rage', the 'Drums', 'Resolve'. Their instruments, they'd gladly play. They wandered into forest deep, where Cheldennat made his abode, and to their ignorance- he crept and sent them down the Starry Road. Upon their walk, they left this child in forest glen to mourn and keen, when the selfish Cheldennat, smiled, and toward the child approached unseen. With one strong arm, he swept the child, fleeing quickly from the glen. To home he went, and kept her there, a slave, to cook, and clean his den. Her days were spent in cold, dark room with naught but pallet, pot and chair; But merry ever was her soul, in spite of Cheldennat's cold stare. In secret, this young maiden sang- her mother's gift, a high, clear voice; Her Father's gift, a merry heart. She, through each struggle, did rejoice. While Cheldennat did hunt and fight, she mended rags and cooked his meal. In humour mild, she'd tend the fire and grew the herbs, his wounds to heal. O'er many andu, her sweet voice, a beaming light to darkness showed, and finally the day arrived- Cheldennat walked the Starry Road. She stayed for days in cottage old but Cheldennat came not to feed. She finally went to garden gate- hunger and thirst an aching need. As she ventured through the brush, she saw the world, amazed, through eyes which recognized, at last, the truth masked by Cheldennat's bold lies. She wandered 'round, ('twas grace alone, that kept her far from danger's way). To the Crossing she finally came, and heard a street-side minstrel play. Her spirit rose. Her heart grew light. Cheldennat's prison now her past. She asked him whereupon he'd learned, and found the Bard Guildhalls at last. She saw the ones who came and went through magic portal, smiling wide. She spoke with Silvyrfrost to join and then at once ventured inside. And so her life began anew, good friends she meets and songs she sings. She embraces with heart, the Bardic life, and smiles at all that each day brings.

Nilme's Tale: A New Page

The orphan of two merry Bards the Starry Road took too soon, I wandered the lands by day, and slumbered under the moon. Gypsy Achrennight Filanti, with black hair and eyes of jade, listened to me fill the Guild, with songs of both light and shade. We spoke for hours about all things, sharing how our lives began. Before the sun rose again, Achren added to her Clan. Achren's love, and husband, Izzit, to me was a dear Father. Parents to me, they became, the Nightingale and Ranger. They taught me about Bardic lore, and how to shape a short bow. When I went out on my own, with their blessings did I go. Through many years, I was happy- but I sadly lost my way. Finally I made my way back, and it is here I stand today. Friends of old are still with me, held deeply within my heart. Each day begins a fresh page, with friends newly met, a part.

Nilme's Tale: The Prodigal

Written after a sleep that lasted 10+ years Long ago I made a life here- Travelled the paths and knew the land. Peace and conflict, both in measure- A future here was planned. Every moment cherished, for I deeply loved my home. My little cottage out in Lang, The Bowyers where we'd made a 'Guild', Theren Theatre, and our plays- Concerts with each and every seat filled! Every waking moment, I loved Elanthia, my home. Too many moons have come and gone Since all those happy, reckless, days, Since I was lied to and betrayed By one with petty, jealous ways. Forbidden and exiled, I mourned- longing for my home. Dreaming of the life I’d had here, Family who tightly held my heart, Guildmates, Neighbors, Lovers, Friends, From whom I was, tragically, kept apart. Filled with sadness and despair, I ached to see my home. A tiny ember filled with hope Lay dormant, 'til the happy day Rescue came and it was tended. Light to help me find my way! Stumbling over every step, I made my way back home. Every instinct brought me closer, A prodigal, once lost, now found, With every step I breathe it in And find true peace, unbound; Restored, I've found the way back to my beloved home.

Tavern Troupe Audition Piece

Celebrating People

Almarius, the Itty Bitty Bard

This song was written to honor a very dear friend- Almarius. A faint scent of gingerbread flies into the room A cloud of colorful glitter behind. It's a Gnome Bard, beloved by all she meets- New friends and new fun to find. With tortoiseshell glasses framing sparkling green eyes, She's prepared for all tart emergencies. She inspires laughter and joy from all, Bouncing up and down with great frequency! Puddle Stomper Almarius, in her pink gown- Red-gold hair carelessly crowning her head, When smiling, dimples appear in her cheeks- With a generous and kind heart, she's led. An itty-bitty goblin friend never far away, Only windmills and paperwork bring fear. If she's your friend, she'll stay in your heart, And her sweet laughter forever you'll hear. I hope you'll meet her and see for yourself- Find out how smiling with her is not hard- Hear the cheerful cadence of her very first words, "Hiiii! I'm Almarius- The Gnome Bard!!"

For Someone Unknown

Three moons above me rise and fall, Seasons arrive and then adjourn, While I, in silence, contemplate And into the past return. Another lifetime, it seems now, All my memories are vague and pale. I've tried to grasp the history. But it's been to no avail. Still, the hint of peace you gave me, While the whole world was filled with war, Encouraging me, as you healed When you found me at your door. You gave me strength to carry on, And gave me courage in the fight, Those words of comfort, then bade me To hold close to what was right. You helped me to grow and prosper, Which led me where I am today, You'll ever have my gratitude, Though your name has slipped away.

Izzit Myadow, Da

Gentle carver of ebony, You fletch and you shape, While you pass through both forest and brush With soft, whispered footfalls that seek unseen trails, With your constant companion- your wolf. Strong fighter of creatures, You skin and you tan, Using nature's abundance to aid you, With eyes like an eagle in search of a meal, You find that which you track-without fail. The dawn's colour creeping Through leaf, limb and tree And the darkness which falls into place-- Each paint in my mem'ry the picture of you, And the love that you've shown me, always. Honourable Ranger, Father and Friend, The world, it moves by, while you watch. The towns, they change daily, The cities they grow, But for you, the deep forest's enough. Skilled Archer and Teacher, you forage and search. Da, I've learned so much, there by your side. As your Father before you- at one with the land, With your honor and strong 'Rangah' pride. The dawn's colour creeping Through leaf, limb and tree And the darkness which falls into place-- Each paint in my mem'ry the picture of you, And the love that you've shown me, always.

Kaedan's Birthday

Mendira, 100 Circles Strong

Commissioned by Navesi and Ahneya for Mendira when she reached 100 circles Each circle reached means quite a lot. It represents all you've been taught. But when one hundred have been earned, it goes beyond what you have learned. All those ranks in your vocation demonstrate your dedication. We celebrate this milestone and the commitment you have shown. Regardless how you like to train, with every circle that you gain, You'll find much closer you will be to reach the goal of Mastery. And friends that you've met on the way, celebrate this with you today. The pride you feel is echoed here, in joyful smiles of those near. Each class, and hunting trip you've made, the practicing in guild or glade, The time you've spent has brought you far. Your talents show that you're a star. You perform and bring us pleasure, giving memories to treasure. One hundred circles! What a feat! Let's now enjoy both drink and treat! Mendira, You're now one hundred circles strong. We've believed in you all along! Our fondest wishes follow you, in all the things you've yet to do.

The Gor'Tog People

For Rawtubby I have written this song to honor the Gor'Tog people as a whole, but also for one honorable Gor'Tog specifically. Rawtubby has inspired this work. It is my hope I have done it justice. Solinga kalmui takat soling, yaka wana kaupak kua talna tau damaska atna aina muru kau tukwanaka atsa luka nauka. Our families before us, that came from out of the forests, were held captive to work without freedom. Kangka talna yu dap rip, basna kua kau rubuknaka- oming nakana dap ana as diwak huna kau tau wausuan. Full of hunger and cold, thrown out in exile, they endured and made a new home in the mountains. Karakpa soling, tau silaman talna amat at talnala pas tau yaringka. While we, the descendants of sorrow, are finally inside the light. Aisau "Sangka Wiribibit" uba, soling yanaka sa sikwanaka, katka abinaka amangkau wirida dia kau im dap tambas. No "Green Troll" now, we do not forget but abandon anger to live freely in peace and friendship. I observed a mighty Gor'Tog who sat sharpening a sword. I noticed as he worked he seemed neither distracted nor bored. His movements slow, intentional, I saw as I walked away. I thought of the complex history that brought him to this day. The Gor'Togs, long ago, abandoned the forest and emerged- The reason a mystery. Time silenced the loss they incurred. Discovered by a race of saviors, some histories have said, They were taken in and were given clothing, shelter, and bread. Some say it is with gratefulness for this hospitality They worked under the whip, to the best of their ability. But still others say this gentle race was not with kindness saved, for "Green Trolls" as they were called, were taken in and then enslaved. Whether for themselves or against their will, they labored the same. These Gor'Togs worked with no reward, and then one harsh winter came. Though they had given of themselves, when the bitter cold went on, They were released and told to leave, for the stores would soon be gone. Forced to brave the threatening elements with no food or heat They huddled as one, unknowing if they'd find death or defeat. In their strength, they found the Dwarven mountains and a blessed fate. They passed down love and over years lost their bitterness and hate. From Nan to child, throughout generations, they shared their story, And taught how perseverance would lead from suffering to joy. They value honest work and will be a true and loyal friend, It's careful focus on their tasks that satisfy at days' end. Sadly some will only see their size and not their dignity, They mistake the lack of speed for not grasping complexity. It can be a tragic mistake to judge someone by their looks Common sense is possible without understanding fine books. In the important ways that feed our souls, they play a smarter hand. Just a plate of food, a pint or two, and friends can make life grand. Keeping far from stress and strife is a most worthwhile endeavor. To enjoy the best of life you do not need to be clever. A gigantic size or slow speed doesn't mean you are not smart. The wise know romance, love, and kindness can fill the biggest heart. Tau tinga wataknaka wasbila dap atni sumh buluni as palka itukwana tumi.

Temmel, the Bard of Clanthew Blvd

Sounds of nature mingled with sweet sounds that fill the air Are coming from the small building on Clanthew Boulevard! Just past the Commons, through the portal, and just inside the hall Are the sweet lilting tones, you see, of the great Temmel, the um.. Bard! He rarely plays a song, and true, I’ve not yet heard him sing, And while sometimes in groups of us he doesn’t say too much. He sits and smiles when you come in, injured from a hunt Giving not a tune, melody, or song, but instead a "Bardic" touch! When he touches you, your body can start to feel warm, And have a brief sensation that leaves your wounds tingling But when asked his profession, he won't quibble too much Saying he's a Bard, then proves it by getting his zills ringing! Temmel can fix where the troll nearly cut off your arm And can heal every minor cut or abrasion, He can rid you of internal and external scars And stop twitching on any occasion! He reminds us of how his is a great Bardic life, Then cures the impact that left your head reeling He has rutilant sparks that dance all around his head Saying, "I'M A BARD", 'til you're almost believing. Temmel faithfully cheers on bards playing or singing And in all ways he's earned the highest regard He's the greatest "Bard" healer the world's ever known- He is simply the Bard of Clanthew Boulevard!

The Ballad of Bay

For my daughter, Baylix I'd like to sing this song I wrote to one who loves a tale, But it's likely she is dead somewhere, or sitting in a jail. She has no fear to give her pause- her excitement is too great, Forgetting to release her spells until it's much too late. She attacks her foes with confidence-without a single care, Knowing that kind Empaths and Clerics will be there. So if she wiggles to the left when she should have waggled right, Her friends will go and hunt her down, in the day or darkest night. They'll drag her to where help is found, and hear the tale she tells. When healed, she'll jump up to her feet to the ringing of her bells. Then you'll see her later on, arriving from the Keep, Where she's been "visiting" the dungeon for singing folks to sleep. That tangerine blur cartwheeling off from the bin after she mingles, Can be heard from at least 2 rooms away, betrayed by her hat's jaunty jingles. I'd sing to her, but where is she- in Langenfirth or Leth? There's no point asking where she is... she hasn't rubbed her gweth.

Crafting

The Forge

In the forge the day is long- Making steel from iron and dust. Lifting from the burning fire, Armor fit to fuel men's lust. In the forge the work is hard- Pounding hammer onto plate. Waves of heat flow with each tap. Success left in the hands of fate. In the forge the fire reigns- Throwing sparks that burn and sting, Skillful hands that turn and shape, Armor fit to give a King. In the forge when metal cracks- Curses fill the steamy air, Then the forger starts to melt anew, His strong determination rare. In the forge when water cools- And steam begins to rise and hiss From heated metal cast and formed A look of pride is not amiss. In the forge when all is done- The Armor, every test has passed. The one who wields the hammer sees, Gauntlets forged and made- at last!

Darker

Ancient

Into the ground, I fall again. Pushed by words that tumble down- Sliding like rocks down a mountain. And I am undone. So many years of sight Wasted in a moment- Blinded and rendered useless, And I am overcome. Into the shadows, I fade once more, Pressed back with words Spiraling fast- with no warning, And I am alone. So many steps I've taken, Stilled in an instant, Hidden by a thousand grains of sand- And I am lost. Into the past, I find myself Paths marked by forgotten things, The familiar now strange, And I remain. So many times, I fly... yet;Into the depths, I disappear.

Blindsided

Without warning, it is at melee, Striking me with its weapon With a singular hit so powerful It resonates through my body and stuns. Eyes closed in pain, I fall prone, Weapons and defenses meaningless, And the inevitability of my death- An unquestionable fact. Hurt and confused, I try to focus- Evaluating the critical injuries. Wounds external create a mere shadow Of internal carnage that steals my soul. As quickly as the attack came, it ends. My assailant moving silently into the distance, As if the acts of this day never occurred, While I lay flayed open and dying. Disoriented, alone, and broken, Silent tears slide down my dust-covered face, Falling, unnoticed, into the dirt and rock, Where the shell of my body rests. As my heartbeat begins to grow faint. My eyes see sunlight for the last time. Into the ether, I release my final breath, Formed around the sound of your name. And I, without hope or favor, Struck down blithely by one unknown, Await the words that point me to the Starry Road, As I take my place before my god.

The Mountain

In Ilithi's Cold, I fell. This is what happened before I was sent back from the Starry Road. Through cold and dark, we walked, our hands entwined, In the freezing cold, with Snowbeasts in sight. Testing our skills- our Bardic voices raised- Arising victorious from the fight. Huddled up closely to stave off the cold, Searching lost caves where the faithful would pray, Finding more about each other to love, Sharing our histories along the way. Through the Frozen Heavens, we were passing, When down came a torrent of ice and snow. As fast I fell charging toward my fate, The biting wind escorted me below. When the Mountain finished having its way, I lay with body shattered- skin and bone You scrambled down, searching until you found me. You offered me comfort, and I did not die alone. You'd said by my side you would always stay, But instead, the Mountain took me away.

Encouragement

Light

In all ways, the light remains- Dutifully exposing the paths we walk- Keeping our feet fast upon uneven ground. In darkness deep, the light diminishes- Never fully extinguishing so we have hope- Yet leaving us faltering, to stumble and fall. In love's embrace, the light enfolds- Shining brighter than ever before- Making clear the way ahead. In early morning, the light rises- Blanketing the world with its brilliance- Stealing away the cover of the night. In all ways, the light remains- Bringing warmth to our often cold world.

Food and Drink

Apple Brandy

The window's opened to the breeze, The moonlight shines above the trees. The day is over now. I gaze at you. My need is great. I smile, and knowing I can't wait, I walk to where you are. I am drawn in by your tempting heat. I savor how you'll taste so sweet. I pull you close to me. The scent of you intoxicates The effect that you have elevates The dreamy mood I'm in. The nightly ritual we share I've tried but nothing can compare To you, my Apple Brandy!

Bacon is Better

This song was commissioned by Baylix It seems there's a matter of great debate By those who feel that ham is great, But when Ham and delicious Bacon compete It is Ham that will always find defeat. For no matter the glaze that covers it, Ham will always taste like shiii- something really bad that no one wants to eat, But Bacon prepared well will never miss The chance to fill your mouth with deliciousness. Whenever generations pass down their story You'll hear mighty tales of Bacon's superiority And the horror of finding it's Ham they're serving To those who are hated and not deserving. Bacon, not Ham, is the tastiest snack. Ham, as a food, should be sent back And the kitchen closed and the cook let go Because Bacon is better, as we well know. So this concludes the great debate And it's clear that Ham just isn't great Compared with Bacon, sizzling and hot, Which gives you pleasure- while Ham does not.

Barmaid

There, at the bar, I was, And picked up a tray- Then something special happened, And I was changed that day! No more did I stumble, Or spill steins of ale, Or when taking down orders, Did my memory fail! I stopped mistaking cheap wine For the fancy liqueur. When bringing absinthe, Hands steady and sure! The whole place applauded! The patrons approved! I wondered whose magic Had my bad luck removed! For some things we're grateful And don't question why! But since that good day I've held my head high! So, when you go get drunk, My fine skills you'll observe! I'm now Super Barmaid! ...To Deliver and To Serve!

Lament for a Bottle of Wine

I'd like to sing a song for you, of a happy, horrible day. It is entitled "Lament for a Bottle of Wine". You may want to find a handkerchief... The evening was perfect! The friendly company fine! We sat laughing together Drinking the very best wine. The vintage- exceptional. The conversation- profound. Every moon rose and then set, While we enjoyed round by round. Then came the tragic moment... Our money spent-pockets bare- We tried to pour one last glass, But there was no more wine there! Our drunken hearts were broken. Every patron heard us gasp. How the wine had disappeared, Our clouded minds could not grasp. Many tears fell in our grief. We sang out a loud lament, 'Til the barkeep (OUR HERO!) Had a new FREE bottle sent! Our great sadness turned to joy! Our grief gave way to pleasure! But wait! Now this one's empty!! ...No more wine to treasure!

• (Placeholder) Menu

The Bar Sees It All

Upon the polished, well-used bar, among the pints of ale, An untold story waits for one who'll gladly tell the tale. Years have flown past, since that good day The first stout was set down, Upon the lengthy block of wood Hewn just outside the town. The bar sees it all! The bar sees it all! Absinthe and Whiskey, Bloodwyne, Rum, or Beer, Lager and Champagne- Each one, you'll find here! The flirting, singing, and fighting, The sorrow, joy, and hope, Contests of strong constitution Find who's strong and who's not. Drunks who lean hard on its surface, Grieving, happy or lost, The couples that find their 'true love' (at least 'til morning's frost). The bar sees it all! The bar sees it all! Absinthe and Whiskey, Bloodwyne, Rum, or Beer, Lager and Champagne- Each one, you'll find here! To old friends and those who've just met, Health, wealth and joy to share, To freedom and peace in our time, Raise your glass in the air! The stories are never-ending. Each person plays a part. Placing a glass on its surface Gives a story its start. The bar sees it all! The bar sees it all! Absinthe and Whiskey, Bloodwyne, Rum, or Beer, Lager and Champagne- Each one, you'll find here! Yes, the bar sees it all! The bar sees it all!

The Inn

Beneath the stars and moons above There walks a couple so in love... Despite the fact they've only met- They will have a night they won't forget! In the Inn! In the Inn! Find a room and step within! Silent looks or noisy din, You will find it in the Inn! On Riverhavens busy pier, Trav'lers come, in need of beer. To Noble or Pierless, they quickly walk For foamy stout and bawdy talk! In the Inn! In the Inn! Get a moongate from the bin! Thieves and Mages, Men of tin Drink together in the Inn! When Crossing's folk have gone and gwethed And the chatter leaves you quite... deprethed, Just drag your favourite honey down. Find a room and remove her... In the Inn! In the Inn! Ale is plenty, as in sin! Mourn a loss or toast a win! All is well within the Inn! An Empath's job is rarely done. The blood and gore is not much fun. So follow the sodden, drunken path, And order up a stout-filled bath! In the Inn! In the Inn! Where the drunkard drinks his gin. Before he leaves, she'll kick his shin, But you'll still find him, in the Inn! Yes, when its quiet as a pin, Or craziness has settled in, You will not find better kin, Than those you'll meet within the Inn!

Friendship

My Friend

Form: French Rondeau Commissioned by Rawtubby I look to you when I'm laid bare, When life throws me into despair. A greater friend I could not find, With both interests and thoughts aligned. I can be sure that you'll be there. You come to me when life's not fair, When trouble finds you unaware, As you look to me to be kind, I look to you. Our friendship no one can impair. Loyalty, love, and trust we share, Neither leads or is left behind, Both are equal, our fates are entwined. To see a friend whose joys I share, I look to you.

Fun

Faeries Wheel

Through the gate and pay your fare! Don't stop or hesitate! Step right in and snuggle close, leave your worries now to fate! For though the height of the Faeries' Wheel might intimidate, Excitement wins the day as you start to levitate. A lurch! A swing! Then you've left the ground, and to the sky migrate, The height gives new perspective as the crowds accumulate. The Faeries' Wheel! The Faeries' Wheel! One silver buys a ride! Come right in! Step right up! Your carriage awaits inside! The scent of delicacies from below waft up and permeate, While you make a note to try the tasty foods the cooks create. Halfway up the Faeries' wheel, the people fascinate And upon their faces, eager smiles show it's time to celebrate! A subtle swing- your body reels, then vertigo's effects abate. A long deep breath and you smile in relief as your senses modulate. The Faeries' Wheel! The Faeries' Wheel! One silver buys a ride! Come right in! Step right up! Your carriage waits inside! Witness the trail of people as they circumnavigate The many festive tents they've set up on this big estate. The Faeries' Wheel! The joy it brings your smiles illustrate! Still, at the top, the distance from the ground seems very great. Suddenly your heart stops- and with yourself you hold debate, Was that a flying gnome?! There is no time to speculate! The Faeries' Wheel! The Faeries' Wheel! One silver buys a ride! Come right in! Step right up! Your carriage awaits inside! Outside the swinging carriage, the views simply scintillate! You beam at your companion as you both luxuriate! All too soon, the ride will end, as your descent will indicate, And to your fondest memories, the Faeries' Wheel you'll relegate. But for the final moments before the Faeries' Wheel you must vacate, Savor the grand experience you've had. Let your happiness resonate! The Faeries' Wheel! The Faeries' Wheel! One silver buys a ride! Come right in! Step right up! Your carriage awaits inside!

Gambling

Written for Kobmand's party Money is flowing, Smiles are fading, When another gets a win; But tables soon turn And smiles return! Lady Luck kisses them again! Men are crowing, Women glowing, As they view the evening's gains. The liquor flows And flirting grows, Gambling pales as the dancing floor reigns! Couples are slowing. Outside it is snowing As they merrily dance cheek to cheek. Bodies are shifting And lovers are drifting- Private spots for kissing they seek! Dirty plates are growing. The hungry are stowing Food that delights and satisfies. The cook is cheered. Being cut off- feared, As guests loosen belts with sated sighs! Guests, easy-going, The fun starts plateauing, As the evening goes along. Drinks are soon finished, But the joy's undiminished And the guests join the bards in each song! With weary glances knowing, Goodbye kisses bestowing, As the clock ends this time of mirth. Kind words they toast To hostess or host, Praises for fun and a feast of great worth!

Jack the Pirate (For Rudius)

Written for my story-loving brother-in-law, Rudius Lift up your glasses and slurp down your ale, While I share with you, friends, a most terrible tale! Now Jack's been a pirate for many a year. He's sailed with the best- rode the waves without fear; But there's one thing that makes the lad quiver and hide, And that's jolly old Mary, Jack's salty old bride! Well, Mary has known that her man was a snake, A debauched, drunken sot and a nasty old rake. How her parents would weep if they'd lived long to see The insulting, mean rotter Jack'd turned out to be! Jack went to sea, with a mighty fine crew, Leaving poor Mary home to mutter and stew, 'Bout the years that she'd laboured to provide a fine home, While that bastage went to sea to pillage and roam! Jack arrived back, peg leg moving REAL slow, Duffel bag dragging. He didn't want to go, Just to listen to Mary who'd harp ON and ON About where he had been and how long he'd been gone! The first thing Jack noticed was the cottage all dark. Not a lantern was lit. There was nary a spark. No warm light poured forth. No smoke rose from the flue. So Jack took a deep breath while anxiety grew. His hand shook, his heart beat a tune in his chest. In all of their years, Mary'd not took a rest From screeching and hollering- loud as she could About keelhauling pirates, who'd been up to no good! His torch shone, but light fell on a big empty room. The chairs were all gone- it was still as a tomb. Jack paced through the house, but found nothing but dust. What had happened to Mary??;Find out he must! Well, while Jackie pondered, far away on a beach Sat Mary and Armand, from the King's mighty fleet! They snuggled and cooed, kissed while passing the time, As they waited for snacks and a flagon of wine. What Jack never learned applies to us, too. If you don't treat your love well, your love won't be true! You will end up with pub food for years without end, And that mangy ole parrot will be your sole friend! And, good friends, one more lesson to learn from this song: If your pirate comes back but doesn't stay long, And upon each return sits all day and drinks beer, And the kids 'aven't seen 'em in many a year... Go find a new love with humor and grace, A very tight bottom, and who makes your heart race, Leave your sad pirate to parrots and treasure, And run off with someone who will love without measure!

The Hunt

"I've written this song to commemorate those cherished moments that some of us hold so dear. It is called, "The Goblin Hunt", but any hunted creature applies. Katamba starts to slowly set. The clouds grow thick, the stars- obscured. The forest's trees and clearings sigh As we approach without a word. Our eyes grow sharp as arrow tips, Our senses keen- our prey observed. The trap is sprung, our weapons raised, Our soft footsteps are barely heard. We hunt and fight 'til Xibar's rise, When woodland folk, at last, have stirred. Then wear our bows and sheathe our swords, All treasure stowed. Success assured. We trace the paths our steps have made. To tavern's door, once wounds are cured. We drink our fill and celebrate To bolt and steel-- To Goblin's lured.

The Violin

Smooth curve of acorn's majesty, Shaped with skill to fit my hand, I rest my chin upon your edge, And caress your strings with care. I draw my bow against your strings, Which, taut and tuned, do spark and soar, As gently I embrace your neck, To tame my song's true form. In quiet space or revelry, Your tunes arise with dulcet tones, Leading dancers into flight, Or mourners to their drink. I rub your shape with softest silk, To shine and polish my delight, I pluck or pick or softly bow, Depending on my mood. And every time my violin rests, Upon my shoulder's pale soft skin, I close my eyes and know I hear- The language of my soul.

Guild Related

Outside the Bank

Many pairs of eyes are there, Looking for the careless ones- Ones without the means to see Their pockets being lifted. Many pairs of hands reach out, Keeping care to be unseen, Unseen by those with many coins, Whose pockets they have lifted. Many pairs of eyes watch close, Looking for the hidden threat. Lucky- those who can prevent Their pockets being lifted. Many pairs of hands reach out To catch the jugglies one by one, To gain great skill, so they can keep Their pockets safe--unlifted. Coin by coin- Mark by mark, They practice their profession. No Guild to seek-Their home the street. They master this transgression. Yes, coin by coin-mark by mark, Their deeds cause such contention. The hidden ones who take your coin If you need more perception.

Phelim

Commissioned by Zynell for the Order of the Apostles' Dream Event 439 AV Dry your tears, they are starlight now. Against the heavens' blackened shade They are diamonds in the night. Tamsine, be ye comforted, And look what I have made. The nightingale flew across the sky Where once there was no light. And drew the eyes of Tamsine Who saw how the stars shone bright. Strike your hammer, and craft four moons. Amongst the twinkling stars I've laid They'll rise and fall, marking the night. Kertigen, you'll be revered, For the moons that you have made. The nightingale flew toward the moons While Kertigen observed his flight, And set them turning in their place When he reached their heavenly height. The fourth moon hatched and danger woke. Phelim's ambush our demise delayed So we can sleep in peace each night. World Dragon, be awake no more And end the chaos you have made. The nightingale left the creature to sleep In Elanthia's heart- a prison tight. Now Peri'el sings her soothing songs, And they've saved the world from darker plight. We walk under his cloak of stars. Beneath his moons, we're unafraid We dance and celebrate tonight. Phelim, we acknowledge you, And the wonders you have made. Sweet nightingales remind us all Of greater deeds, of wrongs made right, And how we have Phelim to thank For sweet dreams that give us such delight.

The Guardian

Commissioned by Dantia for Empath Guild Alfar Warrior Celebration 1-22-2021 I call to you when danger's close and I find myself in need. Tranquil, graceful, stern or majestic, you arrive to intercede. Silent protector at my side, all harm to me you will impede. Your faithfulness a mystery, you honor a forgotten deed. I thank you, my Alfar Warrior. This ancient debt you feel you owe- That holds you to this life I lead, In far more ways than I can say, Was paid in full so long ago. My enemies fall one by one, and to your strength they must concede. Ethereal or imposing, with little effort, you succeed. When I am faced with those who'd hurt me, you step in with ernest speed. That you come at my summons, to what bargain did the fae accede? I thank you, my stalwart Champion. This ancient debt you feel you owe, That holds you to this life I lead, In far more ways than I can say, Was paid in full so long ago. Your weapons ever at the ready as into battle you proceed. Whether fierce or serene your unspoken warning my foe must heed. Your watchful eyes stay fixed upon me while I tend to those who bleed. I ponder about the code of honor that holds you to your creed. I thank you, my Guardian Spirit, This ancient debt you feel you owe, That holds you to this life I lead, In far more ways than I can say, Was paid in full so long ago. Yes, This ancient debt you feel you owe... Was paid in full so long ago.

The Bardic Guildhall

This was written specifically for a Bard Guild Meeting. Versions for other guilds are planned and will be below. In our Guildhall, bards are found teaching those who've newly joined, Telling tales and singing songs while sharing happy banter. In our Guildhall, hunts are planned, armor glints when hit with light, Defensive spells prepped and cast by each bardic enchanter. Each of us upon our journey stepped inside the Guildhall's doors, Joined and chose to walk the path that brought us to this day. In some small way, we each have guided how our Guild is shaped and formed, Whether we are on the stage or fighting foes at melee. As we reflect on where we've been, the rubble on which these halls sit, The pain and sacrifices paid by those who came before, Let's value where we are right now, move to the future with intent, Defend against our every foe and let our voices soar. In our Guildhall, songs are sung, performances and plays are writ, Thoughtful feedback melds with praise, and music fills the air. In our Guildhall, books abound in libraries that beckon us, Introducing us to lore and history we can share. Every way that we are different, bolsters how we are the same, Creates a bond between all those who feel the Bardic call, And anyone who joins will know they're family from the start, For In the Guildhall, In OUR Guildhall, In our Guild, We welcome all.

• (Placeholder) The Guildhall (Magic Users)
• (Placeholder) The Guildhall (Non-Magic Users)

The Langenfirth Bard Guild

Written long ago about a very simple, but very special place that holds deep and lasting memories for me. Portions of this song were used in "Ode to Langenfirth" South from Theren's mighty gates There lies a little town. The people know you as you pass, And smiles are readily found! "Langenfirth" for hearth and home. "Langenfirth" for ale. "Langenfirth" for hunting grounds, And Rangers from the trail. "Langenfirth" for barge and boat, Ship and quick moongate. "Langenfirth" for swimming-climbing- Or fishing in the Lake. "Langenfirth" for friend and mate, "Lang" for child and kin, "Langen" holds a special place, Someplace deep within... Near Langen's Temple, Wharf and Bin A modest shop is found And here amongst the bows and bolts, A surprising gift was found. For when passing by the Bowyers, In the quiet you would hear, Threads of music fill the air (between long sips of beer!) And what, pray tell, prompted the noise, And who performed the tune? It was just the ‘Langen Bard Guild’ Meeting back in Jarrod's room! The strings, winds and percussion Shared the space with Jarrod's bow. And the Bards would sing and drink there Until Jarrod made them go! You'd hear the sweet Faenella's Grace While you browsed the Bowyer's wares As the Bards would teach each other... Glad that Jarrod didn’t care. For the peaceful room they borrowed Gave the Bards a place to sing. So that's why as people passed this place They heard the melodies ring. Some said without a Leader, This 'Guild' did not exist, But the merry Bards that met there Dismissed the ones who would resist. We encouraged, taught and practiced- Passed on History and Lore. We hunted, scraped and bundled, While enchantes filled the store. We may not have had a 'Silvyrfrost', 'Ezruh', “Tasdean”, 'Yaziyi' or 'MacFrae' But the Spirit of the Bardic life Was present there each day. We would practice, flirt, and drink there, Laugh as good friendships we'd build- And lived peacefully within the walls Of our Langenfirth Bard Guild. "Langenfirth" for hearth and home, "Lang" for friend and kin, "Langen" holds a special place, Someplace... deep... within.

The Life Wheel

Written for Claribel, about the Wheel in the Paladin Guild in Hibarnhvidar A Paladin's Story from long, long ago, you'll find carved out of stone in their guild. When you move a wheel you'll see part of the tale. With each turn, here's the story you'll build. A baby was born but her Mother was lost. While holding her, her Father grieved. A young Dwarven woman left a great gift- a baby who, one day, her people she'd lead. Her father, who loved her, was an architect of great skill, so the story is told. Pointing to a mountain, he gave her a hug. Always in his heart, this child he'd hold. This young woman grew into a warrior great. There was no battle too big to fight, Although circled by dragons, her war hammer swung. With great courage, she showed them her might. Revered and respected, with honor she led. Her courage was known far and wide. The woman was carved with her hand on her heart, while 'round her head an aura or halo reside. She led her people with war hammer in hand. Skeletons and other evil beings she fought. This Dwarven woman in armor was beloved by all, for the gift of their freedom she brought. Walking through a mountain pass then went The Fist, as now this woman was known, She waved as she left to find vigilance, which on the sixth carving we're shown. Returning, her arms went 'round an older man as he pointed to a mountain face. The woman asked her father to build her a home, while this happy reunion took place. The Fist taught many others about leadership, and courage and honor combined. With a proud lion, did she interact, we observe as the panels unwind. In the last of nine panels, chiseled in the stone, is a carving that shouldn't be missed. A large fist is raised up in front of a star, and we're told that here sleeps The Fist. Through the years it has stood very near to a tomb where a coffin and armor were placed. You can see it yourself in Hibarnhvidar, though with a dark maze you'll be faced. Now you know what's been carved on the panels you see when the Life Wheel's been carefully turned. And heard how a baby grew up to become The Fist, whose story you've learned.

Traders

A trader's meant to walk and roam To search the lands for silks and stone To bring to those who live at home A taste of the exotic. A trader's meant to find the treasure That brings their customers real pleasure So they give their money without measure To obtain the true exotic. A trader's meant to lean and smile To shake your hand without sly wiles To make each person forgo denial And covet the rare exotic. A trader's meant to show their wares To make their contracts,raise their sales While you empty your pockets unaware To own the new exotic.

Historical

• (Placeholder) Gorbesh
• (Placeholder) Neithrel

Inspiration

• (Placeholder) Inspiration

The One Who Leads

When inspiration moves my quill And sunrise over hillsides spill She leads me swiftly where she will. I follow where she leads. Sometimes she leads to oceanside, Sometimes to where my feelings hide, She finds the places I reside. To you, she sometimes leads. My deepest thoughts flow through my pen And I start writing once again. In silence or by noisy din. I start to take the lead. My confidence, each shattered piece, Salvaged so gently, fears decrease. Doubts, once so strong, their whispers cease. I revel as I lead. Her eyes I feel upon my page Words fly like birds freed from their cage The wounds of quiet pen assuage. She smiles while I lead.

The Quill

A Shakespearean Sonnet for Fenlyn. A page before me sits- no ink upon, It's endless space awaiting words that sync And meld as I am beckoned by the Dawn With quill no longer poised to move the ink. I watch the world through frosted window pane As now it starts to open wide its eyes- Inspiring, teasing Muse, whose whims ordain Gives breath so words no longer paralyze. Where once the barren page made mockery In rapid turn displays her deepest heart, And Ink, the dye that carries thought to Thee, Entrusts the pen to quickly make its art. Grateful that my quill no longer seizes- Joyful while the muse writes as she pleases.

Love, Found

Beloved

This song was commissioned by a newly engaged friend to her intended. They have since traveled far from the Realms, but her experience is likely shared by others. I offer it with their permission. In and out of love, I've been. I've felt the lows and highs. I've fallen deeply, lived with love And said those last 'Goodbyes'. But with each love, I kept my finger Clear of jewelry's charm. I kept my hopes reserved a bit To keep my heart from harm. Sometimes that's been successful, and my heart survived intact. Sometimes the blow has wounded hard, with a shattering impact. But love's resiliency healed those wounds, When you came into my life. For us both, the love grew quietly Then you asked me to be your wife. Your merry heart and cheery smile Caught my heart off-guard. You make me laugh and share with me Both the pristine and the marred. You say you miss me whenever I am gone, That you rejoice when I am near. You lend your strength when I have need, And dissolve my every fear. It's true I thought myself immune from holy bond and vow. It's true I thought the past would keep me closeted somehow. But... OH! The joy that fills me When I see your smiling face, The warmth that makes my life complete, And sets my heart to race! I didn't think that it could happen, Least of all to me- But love surprises each of us With what's destined to be. I've found you, my Beloved, and my heart does sweetly croon. I hope others, too, will feel love's tap, 'neath some unsuspecting moon.

Elements

• (Placeholder) Falling
• (Placeholder) In the Garden
• (Placeholder) Ranger Love

The Ledge

Yavash sets as I awaken As the Sun reaches its highest point. I see white clouds drift slowly by me, While the winds brush off this ledge. I ponder countless steps we took, On island, and in lives apart; The climbs and drops that quietly led us Together, sitting on this ledge. On this ledge, I recall the adventures I have daily, at your side The thrills when running through great danger; And yet, how tenderly you take my hand. Off this ledge, you want to show me Things that made you who you are Your smiles that easily you give me More brightly shine when we are here. Off this ledge, the island beckons, The secret places, sacred shrines, The Springs, and other lovely places, You wanted to take me to see. On this ledge, we sit and look out Over the Lake that reflects the moon In the quiet, our soft breathing, And our heartbeats are all we hear. I wonder as I share with you, The parts of my life before we met, If I will have become less to you When we step off this ledge. Then you look at me in silence Taking in my face and form Soft reassurances and acceptance giving As together we sit on this ledge. On this ledge, your words- pure magic- Imbed themselves into my soul. I hold them closely, cherish them My heart falling madly as you speak. And in my eyes, you see the wonder The joy I feel when you are near Sharing my excitement for the years to follow When we step softly off this ledge.

The Muse

The Paragon and His Love

He sits up to tell her tales, Of exploits brave and wrongs set right. He brushes back her silken hair, And kisses her to sleep each night. The silent forest breathes his name, It's trees stretch up to meet his eye, It's birds grow quiet when he walks- To hear the tune his footsteps sigh. She holds tight to both his hands, When doubt creeps in and tests his soul. She is there to cheer him on And push him, onward, toward his goal. Her hips sway gently as she moves, Her laugh brings joy to all she meets, When by chance, she coyly smiles, Roses envy her blushing cheeks. He lifts her sorrow- feels her pain- His arms relieve all emptiness. His lips bring her to sweet release, With naught but just a simple kiss. The wind is still, the clouds abate, The world itself on axis slows, Just to catch a tiny word- That from his lips perchance may flow. When in the dusk, proud Xibar sets, And Katamba rises in the sky, It is her magic bids them move (And the twinkle set within her eyes.) She knows the man behind the myth, Accepts as due his well-earned fame. She is there to soothe his brow, And tend his wounds from battle's flames. He looks with longing in his eye, And smiles at her with mischief great. He steals a kiss with quiet stealth, And snuggles closely when it's late. O'er ages plenty, men have come, With talent, skill and handsomeness, But he stands out among them all- His strength reigned in by gentleness. She lays the path that he will walk She sees the boy inside the man. She can bring to HIM the joy, She sees him bring to all he can. Her kindness- known both far and wide Her voice like birds within the woods, Her eyes like pools of shimmering light, She embodies all that that counts as good. He comes home to sweep her up, In arms that missed her smile and form, He gazes softly in her eyes, And kisses her with feelings warm. His bow is swift, his arrows true, His chivalry is quite renowned. His eye for beauty quite refined, When faced with fools-patience abounds. She gives him strength when he is weak- When foes attack from ev'ry side. It's her small hand that brushes back, The tears he cannot keep inside. Her flawless skin is smooth and bright, With inner beauty shining through, That brings to her a glow unmatched, By other ladies' normal hues. She places all her trust in him, His trust in her- a treasure's worth. Her smile lights up his daily life- He fills her life with gentle mirth. They walk together in the sun, Through rain, strong wind, and blizzard cold. They gaze into each other's eyes, And to each other, tightly hold. The Paragon, and She, his love, Will forever happy be, And may their joy bless you and yours, And all their happiness inspire thee.

• (Placeholder) Treasure

Two

Reside on love's foundation, Building joy one can't define- Increasing the duration Of how long two souls combine. Combine two hearts, entirely, And let not the past intrude. Fill up those hearts completely- Passion, trust, and joy include. Include faith and confidence Each one has in their lover. Fears be of no consequence, When two lives join each other. Other hurts fade completely, When their secrets they confide. Two lovers blend perfectly When in love's light they reside.

• (Placeholder) Waterfall
• Wedding Song for a Friend

Love, Lost

• (Placeholder) Long Days

Passerby

The Passerby: Early on a dewy morning In a home with windows wide, A woman sat, with pen in hand, Writing on a piece of parchment, Humming to herself then stopping, Trading pen for a harp of gold. Woman in the window: More quickly than my pen can write, The thoughts of you come tumbling in, Now on my page are broken lines With spaces where the words should be. Words you said resound within me To places where all hope was gone- Taunting me with cold indifference Reminding me of all I've lost. More quickly than my voice can sing, The thoughts of you come tumbling in, Now my song lacks all notation, With chorus replaced by silence. The Passerby: I paused at once, filled with sadness, But then she raised her voice again, Her tone had shifted, head held high, Her voice rang out with hopefulness, Eyes not haunted any longer, Fingers flew o'er her harp of gold. Woman in the window: Then I look toward the future To find that I will thrive again- Maybe then to start believing One day I will be loved once more. More quickly than my pen can write, Or faster than my voice can sing, Words and Melody together Combine in me and heal my soul. The Passerby: Early on a dewy morning In a home with windows wide, A woman sat, singing a song, Raising her voice to the heavens... First words of loss, then words of hope, While playing on her harp of gold.

Regret

The face I know as well as my own stays etched in my memories and dreams, As clear to me and just as vivid as the last time I gazed upon you. The eyes always twinkling with mischief... the lips trying in vain not to laugh- The hands that brushed the hair from my face... all gone now, leaving my life vacant. I remember the day you left me, your voice telling me the call had come For defenders to don their armor and march in service to save our lands. I turned to shield you from my sadness, to wipe the tears I knew should not fall, And as I moved to go to your side, I saw your back as you walked away. I have waited so many seasons for you to return back home to me. Instead the soldiers came to our door to say how valiantly you led. They said you fought in many battles, keeping our people safe from danger. But the enemy's sword struck cleanly and the Cleric's prayers could not raise you. They said Huldah claimed you, kept you there, and on the Starry Road you would stay; Never to step into my embrace. You would not be coming back home again. I would have kissed you, held you closely, had I know your life would be taken. I'd have cherished each tiny moment. You would have left assured of my love. Now you are one with the stars and sky. And all I have are my memories.

The End

A letter to the wind that sighs a name I cannot speak, For tears come close and fall like rain and words seem pale and weak... To that wind I softly share The things my heart holds tight, To honour the great love that grew O'er magic, starry nights... The whirlwind night on garden swing When interest first took hold... The public courting o'er the gweth Which I considered bold... The care you took to share with me The past that led you here... The charm that flattered with fine words And overcame my fear... These things, I ponder in my heart Since your return to home, Which left our promise unfulfilled And left me on my own. The walk we took with kisses giv'n After every pace... The advice to take it slow and savor Passions tempting race... The party guests that listened close As you professed you cared... The blood that rose from dagger's tip When a private vow we shared... These things, I ponder with intent Since you chose to roam, Which left our promise far behind, And left me on my own. Your gentle touch against my lips As each soft kiss was placed... The handfasting that bonded us- Your intoxicating taste... The words you sang into my soul That proved your love was mine... The words I sang to you, beloved, That proved my love was thine... These things, I ponder in my grief Since my heart you've now outgrown, Which turned our promise into dust, And left me on my own. I never thought, but dared to hope, to hold your heart always. I never thought, but dared to dream, to keep you in my sway. Clearly, the days of "We are we" were just a passing tone, For your free-wheeling days have come, and I'm here on my own. I always knew your charm would draw great numbers to your side. I always knew I'd share you, but thought to always be your bride. Alas, our bond did not endure and one has become two; And I am left alone with naught but memories of you. My grief still shadows haunted eyes- Lies hid beneath my smile- Its presence pounding in the heart That loved you without guile. I hoped your love would grace my life... And surely thought you'd see, The joy that filled my very soul While my heart was claimed by thee. I've heard that love and happiness have found you once again. I wish you'd found them in my arms... Signed, Your Angel of Langen

• (Placeholder) The Bay

Love, Seeking

• (Placeholder) Together

Love, Threatened

• (Placeholder) The Elven Lovers

Love, Wistful

Empty

Filling dark and empty spaces Wandering 'round marketplaces Seeking thrills the world debases Stealing coin and hiding aces... Those days when all I did was falter, Those years when all I did was wander, Something was missing in my soul. Running from all my disgraces Filling dark and empty spaces Hoping there would be no traces Of their names or of their faces... Those days when all I did was falter, Those years when all I did was wander, Something was missing in my soul. My mind constantly retraces Times when I've felt your embraces Filling dark and empty spaces- You've pulled me from pointless chases. Those days when all I did was falter, Those years when all I did was wander, Something was missing in my soul. When you see me- my heart races All I was- your word erases. Every hurt- your love replaces, Filling dark and empty spaces. Gone are times I did naught but falter, Those years have passed when all I did was wander, Now, nothing's missing in my soul.

Half a World Away

I huddle in the storm, With just my cloak to shield the rain. There's just no easing of the autumn winds, Or the fear that brings me pain. The early dawn is creeping, And the pale light brings the day, But the rising sun won't change That you're a half a world away. If the barge won't bring you home to me, And all the boats have sailed, Then sit in solitude and know My love has never paled. For as long as I have favour, With the blessed gods above, You will always have a refuge Filled with my eternal love. So as I huddle in the storm, With pale light beckoning the day, I pray that you'll be sound and safe, While you're a half a world away.

The Gift

Upon the barge I met a lady, soft and noble-born Who, as she watched the waves, appeared to be wistful and forlorn. I asked what sort of trouble this- to bring upon her tears And she sang these solemn words as 'Haven disappeared. I knew the gift he gave me had an orlog deep inside-- That as he kissed my cheek, the workings waited for the chime. I knew that as he held me tight- so close within his arms, The day would come when I had lost those subtle lover's charms." I always said I'd bear his love as long as he desired, And throughout my many years with him, we created a great fire, But then, one day, he set me free and went along his way, Holding me to the words I frequently used to say. Your love's a gift you give to me to hold within my hand. When you come reclaim it, be as gentle as you can. When you gaze into my eyes and slowly turn to leave, I'll give it back and thank you for the love you gave to me. I heard the lady speak these words. Despite her tears she seemed content. I waited there, in vain, for bitter rage and sad lament. I later smirked and just assumed when her lover had turned to go She'd fallen on her heart and begged him not to make it so. But later I pondered quietly, while deep in love's embrace. As I watched the light play on his skin and kissed his handsome face. I knew I'd given my heart, even though he might toss it away A choice I'd not regret if he only kept it for one day… I said to him, "Your love's a gift I'd hold within my hand. I'd just hope when you reclaim it, You'd be as gentle as you can. If one day you gazed at me and slowly turned to leave, I'd give it back and thank you for the love you'd given me.

Unrequited

A traveler sat in the pub As I ordered a mead, And she began to tell a tale Of overwhelming need. She spoke of longing, love and loss In quiet conversation. My mead -untouched, I stared at her In quiet fascination. O'er every trail I walk upon, O'er every road I wander, O'er every ship and boat and barge, My mind goes back to you. My mind goes back to days long past, When I was blithe and merry, Days when, winking-flirting, I would seek to win your favour. Instead you turned to gaze upon A gentle, fair-haired beauty, And I began my traveling To cure my wounded heart. O'er every path that leads me on, O'er every sandy desert, O'er every brook and creek and shore, My mind goes back to you. My mind goes to your jet black hair, Your smoky, charcoal eyes... Do they darken- black as night- Upon her tender kiss? Do your hands, upon her face, Tremble at her beauty? Good Glythtide, ease your servant's pain, And cure this wounded heart. O'er every town my feet pass through, O'er every village gate, O'er every wood or stony bridge, My mind goes back to you. My mind tells tales of moments shared, And laughter given freely, Times before you made your vows, To your fair-haired beauty. And memories of when I stood, Before the newly wedded, Somehow wishing you both joy, Which broke my wounded heart. O'er every place I find myself, O'er each location traveled, O'er every journey that I take, My mind goes back to you. My weary mind knows far too well, That blessed Glythtide's favour, Will one day fall upon my soul, And end my traveling days. On that day both blithe and merry, Once again I'll be... ...when I've at last forgotten you- And healed my wounded heart. The traveler's story ended thus With hopefulness assured. But I couldn’t see her past my glass- For the tears that fell and blurred. I swore that I would tell her tale of lovers thus divided For love is worth all of the world, Even when it's unrequited.

Lullabies

• (Placeholder) Burden
• (Placeholder) Sleep

Sleepy Lullaby

Close your eyes while the music plays. Let the warm fire soothe you. Set aside your worries. As the moon shines down, close your eyes. Gone are the troubles of the day, Lifted up to the sky, Released like birds, they fly. Dispersed like mist, they fade away. The day that held you in its grasp, Without a needed rest Puts you, safe, in your nest Removing its restrictive clasp.

Memorials

• (Placeholder) The Ballad of Kittrinna Muffkins

Places

Ode to Langenfirth

Commissioned by The Theren Guard for their event, "Songs for Therengia" Portions adapted slightly from "The Langenfirth Bard Guild" Langenfirth for hearth and home. Langenfirth for stout and ale. Langenfirth for hunting grounds and for Rangers on the trail. Langenfirth for friend and mate. Langenfirth for child and kin. "Lang" fills a very special place held somewhere deep within. Within a quiet, peaceful clearing, an ancient fir tree stands, And I, atop its splendor, my gaze unfettered, view the lands. Once I sought adventure, blind to the time the journey would take, Leaving my fair village on the shore of Gwenalion's Lake. I saw many wondrous places, far away from where I'd been. Elanthia's jungles, isles, and towns- all muses for my pen. Each day I wandered I discovered wells of inspiration, But in the depths of night I felt a quiet desperation, I trained my sword, wrote my songs, and studied every dusty tome, But I missed Danduwen Forest and the comforts of my home. In Langenfirth, I hear owls call when darkness comes each night, Smell the fresh scent of fir trees, and follow trails of dappled light. There are sweet primroses and bright yellow cat's-ears by the roads, Woodmice dart throughout the hedges, to the sounds of croaking toads. On the lake, the patient fishermen cast out their line and wait, While teeming fish play in the lake, avoiding the tempting bait. All along the wharf where barrels sit near crates piled around, A duck waddles between the stacks, seeking food upon the ground. The wind whistles, while I watch treetops wave toward each northern hill As they meet the green-clad mountains, and all other life stands still. I revel in the bright blue sky sometimes hidden from the trail By the dense, dark leaves of her forest that form a verdant veil- When inside the Bowyer's shop we once claimed as a Bardic Hall Jarrod's infinite patience with our merriment I recall. At long last, with joy, I have returned to see those things I've missed, Finally to taste her ale, walk the paths that wind and twist. I cherish the warm embraces from the friends I knew before. Although I had adventures, being back home means so much more. Atop her ancient tree, I gaze out at these beloved lands, Standing high above the quiet, peaceful clearing, where it stands. There is no town that can match my village's every wonder, No sweeter place for songbirds than her trees which I walk under. The Binfolk's laughing camaraderie also plays a part In making Langenfirth the town I keep closest to my heart. The blissfulness she brings me cannot be measured or surpassed As I listen to the sounds that tell me I am home at last. Langenfirth for hearth and home. Langenfirth for stout and ale. Langenfirth for hunting grounds and for Rangers on the trail. Langenfirth for friend and mate. Langenfirth for child and kin. "Lang" fills a very special place held somewhere deep within.

Scenes from the Bin

Commissioned by Lillietta, who gave me names, a little bit of information, a basic concept, and some ideas for phrases she wanted me to use in this song. The binfolk are a happy bunch who laugh throughout the day And the Lady behind the Curtain peeks out. Let's hear what she has to say! The ones she sees as she sits 'round the bin are honorable or at least they try. But then Lasaia starts making some mischief, while Shelken sits nearby. Queen Vadne and her consort, Fitzgor, observe their kingdom large, Just a few quick steps away from the trail, the tanner and Barge. Vadne's Special Ranger, Senthic, observes Harsh's frequent gestures. They laugh upon the antics of "hidden" Hoger and Baylix- their Jesters. Nilme comes and takes a seat as they drag a body in. Oh, it's just Koramoor, he must have died- yet again. People bring boxes to pick- as many as they can carry And Almarius might bounce in, with a smiling Dairy. Brehm, Kintryn, and Merilwen stop by the court, With Vixonia, (her virtues Stelling will exhort)! And if you watch closely you might see Miranza, Rush past Theren Guard recruiter Aaiyaah. Intrigue fills their merry court as Darkgaze, by the tree, Tempts those who might join his secret cult by offering them tea. Mireillere and Malykai come and relax in this idyllic scene, And Lady in Waiting, Lillietta, closes her eyes and begins to daydream. She imagines groups of people and names them as they pass. Will her titles spread far and wide, for groups that gather en masse? A keg of Bards pass out liquor So the enclave of Empaths gets sauced As the head of a warren of Rangers FINALLY finds the trail- no longer lost. Next comes a commune of clerics And a nest of necromancers at war. Look at the lightning of a wrath of War Mages! Can you hear the blunder of Barbarians roar? A mystic of Moon Mages come through a gate As the Lady continues to name. Sneaking by is a pocket of Thieves, A penance of Paladins look on with disdain. Awake from her daydream and present once more, Lillietta smiles at those she is so thankful for. She sees so many friends and so many faces, Who stay for a while before running off places. And if you stop by, you'll be welcomed in By the binfolk that sit by the Langenfirth bin.

The Trail

Written about El'Bains Outside the sleepy village streets, A quiet spot doth, hidden, lie, Under treetops- shadowed,still... A sanctuary's blessed peace. In times of healing, training, chatting, Scraping, counting, braiding grass, This small spot doth serve us dearly, With respite from the hunt. Friends gather among the sloping glade, Sharing knowledge- honing skills, Laughter mingles with the distant Calling of a bird. In morning, eve or noontime sun, In winter's chill or spring's fresh breeze, In private thought or group debate, The trees, our secrets hold. Outside the sleepy village streets, Within a walk to hunt or swim, Our quiet spot doth, hidden, lie, It's sacred peace we seek. No matter where our feet do travel, Inn's that host our weary bones, Our small spot will be there waiting, For our return to home.

Therenlethgenfirth, The Musical

This tale is a journey that I hope you'll find lyrical. It's name is "Therenlethgenfirth"- the Musical! It was strictly uncharming business that led me to join Fenlyn, the Bard. He asked if I wanted to travel up North to see if Marauders and Creepers were hard. He warned me his sense of direction was weak, that we may never reach where we're going- He stated he didn't go on great adventures, but I wondered if he was truly unknowing. Down the Boulevard to the Northeast Gates' large doors, Past the Guardsmen high up on the wall, Through Farmlands, Grasslands, Open Forests and Woods Rolling Hills, Meadows, Foothills, and all. We traveled the Northern Trade Road through the trails, Past the village of Kaerna's great Inn, Through Burned Forest and Lava Field, Tunnels and Bridge- The journey of Nilme and Fenlyn. We went out to the Landing, "Her Opulence" in sight, Crossed the Faldesu to the next stop. Went straight to the Barge and Gwenlion's Lake- There were Creepers and Vines to be fought! Stepping onto the Wharf in the town where I'd lived, my fine guide quickly looked 'round for traces. Searching for something familiar, he realized too late- Langenfirth and Leth are two different places! It took a brief moment to get us on track. You can only imagine my mirth, When Fenlyn said "Write a song, of the Bard, who took you to 'Lethgenfirth'. We traveled the trail that I'd followed for years, and went off the North Road to roam. As we went toward the vines we intended to hunt, he asked if 'Ferenlethgenfirth' I called home. He queried 'Therenlethgenfirth', and pondered awhile, while the forest path led to Ker'Leor. We hunted and talked- had a really good time as we spoke of adventures and more. We had time both to bond and to gamble a bit, as the Barge trudged on back to the Pier. We pondered philosophy, peaches and song, as the next leg of our journey drew near. From the Wharf to the Ferry, to the North Road's small dock, our journey was of unlimited worth. We went to the Bard Guild and there found our friends to share the tale of the great 'Therenlethgenfirth'!

Sad/Wistful

Reunion

Didn't I used to know you?! Weren't you and I good friends? Sad how, without contention Even a good friendship ends. I recall those merry days. Though so many years have passed. You must know better than I Why our friendship didn't last. Your face looks so familiar But you've changed- that much I see. We must have grieved for the loss, Missing how we used to be. I had heard you moved away- To fulfill your lifelong plan- While I stayed... Did we lose touch? Is that how the end began? Funny that our paths have crossed! Did you recently return? Are you happy, loved and well? Have you nary a concern? Were these past years good to you? Does a partner share your life? Do you play your songs on stage? Has your life been free from strife? Me? Oh, it is no matter. My story is not that long. I stayed, I loved, and I lost- I made choices, right and wrong. I'm of little consequence, It is you that found great fame! About our former friendship- It is really such a shame! I hear our merry laughter. And the stories we would tell. You seem very distant now Though we knew each other well. Do you remember hiding? The GuildLeader's angry gaze? For hiding his rare whiskey, Which he didn't find for days? You're late?;;Don't let me keep you! Here's to safe paths on your way- Happiness to fill your life, And great joy in each new day. You say that I'm mistaken? You have never seen my face? You've never spent time with me? My name you just cannot place? You've some friends you have to meet? Who have long been in your heart? Those that knew you long ago- And of which I'm not a part? Didn't you used to know me? Weren't you and I good friends? How could you forget these times? Is this really how it ends? Well... goodbye, my former friend... How sad you cannot recall, The long talks and laughs we shared- All those years in our Guildhall.

• (Placeholder) The Boat
• (Placeholder) The Fallen Knight

Untrue

Sitting near the fire's warm glowing, I have come to finally know, That just because the words are said, It doesn't make it so. I assumed that one could leave, And keep a glad, unburden'd soul, But even when it should be thus, It doesn't make it so. People with their fine intentions, Often fool both friend and foe, But soon the truth comes shining through, And you can see what's really so. One can grin and meet you smiling. You'd never know how they felt low. Their carefree smiles are giv'n with ease, Still, it does not make it so. I'm no angel, if truth be told. I'm a beckoning siren with a devilish glow. I can tell you oft I'm a shy young maid, But these words don't make it so. Illusions deceive, if you want to believe. I've believed and felt many a blow, For sadly, even when you wish it would... It doesn't make it so.

Original Stories

Toy Solider

Written for Tavern Troupe story challenge 1/10/2021) For me, Leth was simply a blur barely acknowledged while running to ferry or gondola. However, finding myself in no particular hurry one day, I decided to take time to look around. A formidable line of deobar and alder trees line either side of the Alder Bower Gate. Passing through these towering protectors of the town’s homes and shops, I began to discover what many already knew: Leth Deriel, with its quaint charm, is actually a lovely place. This Elven village I'd been running through, I saw with different eyes. I enjoyed a glass of Wild Honey Mead at the Taproot Tavern (cleverly held within a massive hickory tree) and perused the wares in several shops, pausing to buy some warm chestnuts by the Sana'ati Dyaus. I wandered amongst the maple, birch, e'erdream and other trees densely filling this woodland hamlet; listened to nightingales, calling birds, and unexpectedly- a peacock. The town I falsely assumed was sleepy and rural bustled with traders, townsfolk, and scholars who came and went from a University tucked within the trees. On Elder Bark Road, partially hidden beneath the roots of a sickly-looking deobar, I glimpsed a wooden figure. Reaching into the shallow cavity at its base, I extracted a soldier the size of my hand. It had been crudely carved, as if some child somewhere was just learning to whittle. Despite its simple form, the time was taken to fashion a uniform out of cloth remnants, but the once fine adornments had worn and faded from use and time. I imagined a loving caregiver overseeing its creation, smiling encouragingly as the wood was shaped and the sense of pride the budding carpenter must have felt upon viewing the finished results. Straightening the soldier's ragged jacket, I walked, eventually coming to a quiet arbor. A brief respite desirable, I settled on a comfortable ash bench, listening to the song of a cardinal perched nearby. As the bright red bird flew away, I found a spot to gently prop the toy. Subsequent travels through the area went at a slightly slower pace, my steps mindfully redirected to where the wooden protector faithfully continued to keep watch. After some time, my detour brought me once again to the quiet arbor. I noticed, slightly disappointed, the abandoned post where the wooden sentinel had been and pondered its fate while heading to the Southern Trade Route and the path toward Shard. Just past the Deobar Bower Gate, faint sounds of laughter drifted from a nearby cottage, set back a bit from the road. In the front was a beautiful but unruly garden where two young children laughed and played with the re-discovered toy soldier. Sitting near them was an older child and someone who was likely a grandparent, examining a small block of wood. With a nod from the elder, the older child took a knife and began to whittle, taking care and nodding as the kind voice explained various techniques. All is right and good.", I thought contentedly. The children had recovered their toy and were happily playing. I mused how, in years to come, the carver in training would be able to look back, both remembering pleasant times shared with the elder and comparing the soldier's simplicity with items he now carved. The pleasure felt noting how both quality and technique had matured, improving as the years passed, would perhaps provide the inspiration to teach whittling to a new generation of children, overseeing their creative efforts and offering encouragement. All because the soldier had finally found home.

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