Foghair's Songbook
Whale Ride
Commissioned by Ghazkull
Whale ride, take it easy Whale ride, take it easy Whale ride, take it easy Whale ride, take it easy I'm in a mood The waves feel right Move with the music We can dance all night Oooh whale ride Oooh Whale ride, take it easy Whale ride, take it easy Slow down, get down, got to Sahuagin one more time Hold me, whirl me, slow ridin' whales ride so fine Woo! I'm in a mood The waves feel right Move with the music We can dance all night Oooh Whale ride, take it easy Whale ride, take it easy Slow down, get down, got to Sahuagin one more time Hold me, whirl me, slow ridin' whales ride so fine Whale ride, teasey, whale ride, pleasey Whale ride, teasey, whale ride, pleasey Slow down, get down, got to Sahuagin one more time Hold me, whirl me, slow ridin' whales ride so fine Whale ride, take it easy Whale ride, take it easy Slow down Get down Slow down Get down Come on, girl Take a whale ride with me Come on, girl Take a whale ride Oh, dance good Ohhh, dances so good You like it, yeah Dance so good Oh, I feel just right Dancing under light, feels so right Dancing under night, feels so right We've got to dance all night We've got to dance all night Dance, it feels so right We've got to dance all night Dance, it feels so right We've got to dance all night Dance, you feel so right Dance, stay all night Whale ride!
To A Sparkling Dove
(from the perspective of an anonymous 3rd party. Posted 09/29/15)
(I do not have the hots for Sparhawk *wink*)
Where is my sparkling dove,
you lit up my days with your hue,
where are you now little love,
sunlight reveals aught of you.
I gossip and listen for news,
none else since my man passed,
missing your strapping elf thews,
no other male has surpassed.
Take off your helm and your gauntlets,
show me those starshine green eyes,
turn down that spinning blue lantern,
daydream, it weakens and dies.
Stroking your hair into place,
wiping the sweat from your brow,
show me your eer young face,
eternal an evergreen bough.
Ode to a Mermaid (Level 5 Bard Review)
10/08/15
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense attuned, as though her water I have drunk
Rose tip’d breast, hidden ‘neath her shells
Unseen, untasted since her daughter was a babe
Hinted, teased, revealed by daughters carefree garb
Still all untouched by sands slide thru the glass
Sandy cove and shifting dunes, angry crashing waves
Breathe, relax, reflect, I lay me down to rest
Youth's sweet laughter giggles forth
Mother's comb stops at neck
Please stay, good Sir here in this place
Good dreams you will be blessed
I wake alone, blinking eyes
No sign of sun kissd head
No lilting laugh drifts to the skies
I shake sand from my bed
A dream all wet, a mouth all dry
A scream, a sigh, a debt, goodbye...
The Lexie Clause
Posted: Sat Nov 28 22:57:01 2015
In honor of the petition to grant Lexie permanent citizenship in the realms of TFC I offer up, the Lexie Clause:
Whidder nagging or nitting, braggging or kwitting,
but Lexie alwiys nose.
Sum sey shes too hiper, some say OmG,
but Lexie alwiys nose.
So sumwon hails her, so somewon rifts her,
but Lexie alwiys nose.
Sew I say reap hrr, sew I say keep hrr,
cuz Lexie alwiys nose.
With my thanks to DarkClaw for the idea,
Foghair
Song of the Dwarf
Posted: Nov 28 23:41:27 2015
With thanks to DarkClaw for the opportunity...
To the tune of Song of the South by Alabama.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cCVEciId810
Song, song of the Dwarf
Sweet truffle pie and I shut my mouth
Gone, when graphics came in?
May-be you should go and look again
Vide games on laptops, vide on the phone
We all played vide games but we never fell in
Daddy used punch cards, real technocrat
They oughta get kids today to code like that
Sing it!
Song, song of the Dwarf
Sweet truffle pie and I shut my mouth
Gone, when graphics came in?
May-be you should go and look again
Well somebody told us id Software fell
But we were so blinded we couldnt tell
Vide games were bright and we were dim
But that old Dwarfs gonna save us all
Well one imm got busy and another stepped down
The bank got the server and it moved cross town
Tyn got a compiler that could gdb
He bought a new server and upgraded the db
Sing it!
Song, song of the Dwarf
Sweet truffle pie and I shut my mouth
Gone, when graphics came in?
May-be you should go and look again
Sing it!
Song, song of the Dwarf
Sweet truffle pie and I shut my mouth
Gone, when graphics came in?
May-be you should go and look again
How The Bat Got His Wings (Level 15 Bard Review)
Foghair says (in common), 'I would like to tell you the story of how the bat got its wings'.
Foghair pauses and smiles.
Foghair says (in common), 'Once upon a time, oh best beloved, in the Caverns of NKai, there lived all manner of dark and mysterious creatures. And the most dark and mysterious of them all was Bat. Few could tell you what he looked like in those days for he liked to be so terribly dark and mysterious. But we do know that its skin and its fur were most mysteriously dark - for when it climbed out from midst the slippery-slidey shadows at the back of the Wind-Worn Ledge outside its Calm Cave you could scarce tell the difference tween its skin and its hair or tween his face and its toes.'.
Foghair pauses for a moment.
Foghair says (in common), 'In those days, all the creatures of the caverns knew not to trouble with that Ledge or that Cave, for that was where the Bat made its home. And woe betide the animal who landed upon it or hunted near it or dropped the bones of their prey upon it without first paying compliments or weregild to the Bat. For the Bat was firm and the Bat was just and the Bat protected its home from all who might trespass upon it.'.
Foghair pauses and takes a breath.
Foghair says (in common), 'Every day at Sunrise and every day at Sunset, the Wind would blow through the Caverns and Bat would climb out upon its Wind-Worn Ledge, spread its darkest arms, and feel the Wind caress its darkest fur.'.
Foghair pauses and looks out at the assembled people.
Foghair says (in common), 'Oftentimes, in Darkest Night when none of the other dark and mysterious creatures were awake, the Bat would climb up out of the slippery-slidey shadows of the Calm Cave and look up into the gale-force winds that swept through the Caverns of his home. It would count the bones of the statues and it would name the patterns of rocks on the walls and it would dream of catching the Wind as it howled through the caverns.. as it howled throughout all the caverns... Bat caught the Wind and became one with it, until it couldnt tell where one began and the other ended. What once was only the Bat, now the Wind, blew out of the Caverns and into all of the realms of all the world. He flew high and he flew low, topaz eyes gazing down upon all the places hed only scented, only dreamed of in Darkest Night.'.
Foghair looks up, as if watching something fly across the skies.
Foghair says (in common), 'As he flew, his wings grew longer and he grew stronger until one day he flew so fast, he outran the sun and the moon and flew over a desert and for the first time in his life flew out into Brightest Day. In Brightest Day, his topaz eyes glowed and he swooped and turned, reveling in the warmth of the sun on his fur. In Brightest Day, best beloved, Almond Eyes gazed upwards and saw his revelry. At first she thought him another mirage, just more waves shimmering in the desert heat. For in the golden light of Brightest Day his true colors shone. What in Darkest Night looked dark and dreary, in truth, shimmered and gleamed like the purest silver.'.
Foghair tilts his head and grins happily.
Foghair says (in common), 'Oh best beloved, if you could have seen him as she did! Parched from the desert heat, Wind flew down to the oasis where Almond Eyes rested and splashed the cool waters of the pool onto his fur then spread his wings to fly again. But her gasp at his beauty so near stopped him.
There in that desert, Wind and Almond met and their Bond began.'.
Foghair catches Ghazkull and Samiyah’s eyes.
Foghair says (in common), 'Wind and Almond flew upward laughing and followed the breeze. For days and weeks and years they flew, chasing the sun, chasing the moon. Their adventures became the stuff of legends. How he became a Vampire Bat for her blood tastes just like the almonds in her eyes. How he took her back to the Calm Cave for their first kiss. How he allowed her father to tear his heart from his chest to protect her from that fate. How he said good bye to his Sister, and was Found instead of Lost'.
Foghair shakes his head.
Foghair says (in common), 'Those are all stories for another time. Because tonight, best beloved, before you sleep, I want to tell you of an end to their story, and of new beginnings.'.
Foghair sits up a little straighter.
Foghair says (in common), 'Because one long day, best beloved, when Wind and Almond had both reached pinnacles of strength and knowledge and it seemed like there was nothing left to learn and nowhere left to find, Wind stood in a Fateful Garden and swore, though his voice cracked and his heart ached at the cost. He swore in the presence of friends and gods and masters of old.'.
Foghair looks to the East.
Foghair says (in common), 'He swore to the Wyrm.'.
Foghair looks to the West.
Foghair says (in common), 'He swore to the Wyldess.'.
Foghair looks to the North.
Foghair says (in common), 'He turned topaz eyes to the Weaver and he swore. He who once had never seen the sunlight. He who once thought himself dark and cold. He who once knew nothing of friendship or kindness...'.
Foghair looks down at the floor and his voice lowers.
Foghair says (in common), 'For half the path of the world around the sun he has puzzled through riddles for the Wyrm. For half the path he has run with the Wyld Hunt and learnt the lessons of rebirth. For half the path he has followed the Weavers path, puzzling over clever words and teaching and aiding friend and foe alike. Half the path of the world around the sun remains and he draws closer and he struggles and he strives.'.
Foghair raises a fist to the sky.
Foghair says (in common), 'Under the shadow of the Ebon Hand.'.
Foghair slides his hand across his eyes.
Foghair says (in common), 'Under the eyes of the Huntress and Lady.'.
Foghair says (in common), 'He suffers, he dies, he sacrifices. He strengthens. He is reborn.'.
Foghair’s face slowly creases as a smile grows like the dawning of the day.
Foghair says (in common), 'Ever since that Darkest Night and ever since that Brightest Day, all bats have had wings, and they have used them to fly! If you listen close, you can hear their cries each night, calling one another to wild adventure.'.
Foghair stands and searches the crowd.
Foghair says (in common), 'And what of the Bat who became the Wind?'.
Foghair stops searching as his eyes fix on Ghazkull.
Foghair says (in common), 'He will succeed, best beloveds, we know he will.'.
Ode on a Massive Turkey
Posted: Fri Dec 4 18:15:05 2015
commissioned by Golson
Thy tail-feathers shake as you flee sharp blades
And teeth of Team GLaM and Dezmond
All wearied, you fall to your rest at last
And bid adieu to cruel gods who sent you
To peck, and hide, and beg on cursdly tasty legs.
For but one last look at skies of freedom
By your three hundreds you fell,
To the twin blades of Golson
One and one hundred more died,
in fierce battle with young Malice
And thank those few kind gods for Lexie,
who slew but ten and one of you.
My thanks for small kindnesses from gentle
souls of the Suicide Mage and his friends
If unable to find us or if unwilling to swing
the axe, I do not know
Many of my strutting kin did escape their grasp
tho dancing walk or outstretched fan ought
mean their end to a een a blind old cat.
Great numbers they had, on Suicide Squad
But not Grand Lord Finder nor comely vixen,
were enough to help the dying mage
Time and again he sought his end,
In Masters den, and in crashing waves
To Tempest he flew, and to Tempest he died,
again, again, and oer again.
As silent witness, I watched with bated breath
As my brethren were brought low
Hot tears dripped to my feathers as I heard and saw,
As one by one they cried their last
Alone of my kind, I saw the trophies collected,
And counted, and watched as they wipe off blood.
In the guild I stood, til brief kindness of the gods freed me,
Alone but alive in safety of Void
Unliving, but unkill'd.
Longest Night and Longest Day
Tue Dec 8 16:33:41 2015
To: all
On the night of the winter solstice in my old home we would celebrate the longest night with drinking and joy, staying up until the break of day with merriment. But the hangover the following morning was as nothing to the pain of one longest day, when a petite former-slave tried to see justice done and was, for her careless words, cut down in the prime of life by evils hidden behind a veil of justice and balance. This is her story.
On the first night of solstice a good god gave to me
One ... Mighty rift.
On the second night of solstice a good god gave to me
Two venomous fang-marks
and One ... Mighty rift.
{ song repeats with a new line added each time }
Three bags-o-Lexie hide
Four tickling turkey feathers
Five (stolen) simple rings
Six tormented vamp-bites
Seven transports to Tempest
Eight bell-rung head shots
Nine grave-dancing ghouls
Ten slices from cake-thief
Eleven purple Lex-skin drums
{ song concludes with one big breath in and }
On the twelfth day of solstice a good god gave to me
Twelve swats from a briar switch
Eleven purple Lex-skin drums
Ten slices from cake-thief
Nine grave-dancing ghouls
Eight bell-rung head shots
Seven transports to Tempest
Six tormented vamp-bites
Five (stolen) simple rings
Four tickling turkey feathers
Three bags-o-Lexie hide
Two venomous fang-marks
and One ... Mighty rift.
-Written by Foghair
-Commissioned by Lexie
Winter's Lament (Level 20 bard review)
Foghair says (in common), 'I present, for you, a journey of the senses. Close your eyes and join me...'
Foghair makes a complicated gesture.
The room goes dark.
{He cast darkness}
Foghair says, 'Open your eyes, and see…'
In the darkness, someone strikes a match
As it flares to life and your eyes grow accustomed to the change, a scene unfolds before you.
You're in a freezing cave, looking out the entrance at a snowstorm raging.
A voice whispers, 'Look behind you'.
The cold grips you as you turn slowly, fearful of what you might find.
Behind you, facing outwards, hackles raised, teeth snarling, is a white wolf, frozen in time.
A voice from deep within the cave, whispers:
- Baring its teeth in the frozen cave
- the white wolf guards its den
- No sign of what it tried to save
- in homeland of its kin.
- Warm caress from caring hand
- thaws lone patch of fur
- Scents arise in barren land
- and memory from her.
- What came of them I died to guard
- she seems to question me
- What chilled me thus in ice so hard
- so far from frozen sea.
- My mate long dead from hunger
- My cubs they cry for more
- I'll make my stand, I'll kill this band
- My line, forever more.
The light of the match flickers, and dies, plunging you back into darkness.
Foghair takes you by the hand and leads you out, into the storm
Foghair makes a complicated gesture.
The room goes quiet.
{He cast silence}
The storm quiets and you find yourself before a hole, cut down through the middle of a frozen lake.
You blink, to clear the snow from your eyes, and a tableau unfolds before you.
The voice from the cave says softly:
- Eyes of bistre gazed upon him
- His spear raised in his hand
- Cold hungry eyes, staring back
- Long winter cross the land.
- You need to eat, his stomach growls
- "Please, good sir, delay your feast"
- Across river's ice, winter howls
- "I think and speak, I'm no mere beast".
- Rough sealskin parts but not thru blood
- Now milky flesh and long brown tresses
- Now other hungers like a rising flood
- And against her neck the spear he presses.
- Unchained for years, but she cannot leave
- Her sealskin hid she knows not where
- Her body he uses, without reprieve
- Til she bears him a son, with seal-hair.
- "Take your hide, I'll keep my boy"
- He barks at what he used
- She takes long look at her little joy
- And imagines his body bruised.
- She took her freedom and nothing more
- And looked back from the lake
- She watched, and cried, with bistre eyes
- Vengeance, to undertake.
Foghair makes a complicated gesture.
Opening a portal to A Path by the Sava River.
{He didn't actually portal the crowd there, but they were intended to imagine he did}
It takes a few moments for your senses to adjust.
When you can see again, you find yourself on a path next to a strong river.
In front of you stands Foghair, younger than you remember him, with a bloody spear in his hand.
On the ground lies the hunter from the ice, his hair grown grey and his face lined with age.
Foghair's bistre eyes burn with rage as he plunges the spear, once more, into his father's heart.
Foghair strips a wide belt of dark brown seal-skin from the old man's body and wraps it around him.
Foghair transforms in a flash of darkness, and a dark brown seal barks and dives into the river.
Foghair makes a complicated gesture.
The room is cleared of unnatural influences.
{He cast naturalize}
Foghair shakes his head, as if clearing out the cobwebs
Foghair sits down on the floor and bows his head, 'Thank you'.
A Sonnet
[ 13] Foghair: As requested, a sonnet
Fri Apr 29 10:08:57 2016
To: all
My Weird's eyes are nothing like the sea
Blood is far more red than her hair's red
If coral be white, why then her skin so dun
If love be kind, cruel are the words on her lips.
I have seen treasures shining, gold and green
But no such wealth see I in her scales
And in some meals is there more delight
Than in the breath that my darling reeks.
I love to see her fight, yet well I know
That dancing hath a more pleasing sight
I grant I never saw a Lady go
My darling when she swims clumsy in the water.
And yet, by the gods, I think my love is true
As any you belied with false compare.
Foghair, with more than a little help from the Bard
About A Pussy Cat (Commissioned Work)
[ 16] Foghair: About a pussy cat
Sat Apr 30 13:58:22 2016
To: all
About a pussy cat
Let me tell you a story...
Once upon a time, long ago, there were no kitty cats. No servals,
no bobtails, no tigers, no roar.
What we did have, were lots and lots of snakes. Big snakes,
little snakes, sidewinders, moccasins.
And the smartest of them all were the great rattlesnakes.
Humans hated them. They were scaly and dark, they bit our ankles,
and they poisoned our veins.
So we killed them, every time they were seen.
Soon the snakes were not nearly so many.
The smartest among them grew worried, they fretted and schemed.
They realized that humans were their greatest threat, and that
only by concealing their true nature could they survive.
So one by one, the smart ones began to change...
Their smooth scales became sleek fur...
Their forked tongues grew together...
Their rattles of warning they hid deep inside...
But some things they kept, for pride inhabits us all.
They kept their slitted eyes...
Their sharp fangs...
The ends of their bodies became their swishing tails...
And most of all they kept their love of the dark places of the world...
And we humans were fooled, and took them in...
We lent them our warm hearths and cold milk...
We let them sleep with our kith and kin...
We let them indulge their predatory instincts and we smiled when
they showed us their kills.
But look into their eyes and you'll see it.
The dark nature. The cunning grin. And the knowledge that when you die...
before you body begins to cool... they will feast.
And yet the stupid ones, the boa constrictors, the sidewinders,
the moccasins...
the ones with venom dripping from their lips
are still here.
Because some creatures cannot learn. Some creatures will always
bite the hand that would pet, the hand that would feed, the hand
that would cuddle you close to a warm heart.
So silly. So careless. So stupid.
We'll be over here, Lexie and I, petting smart little pussy cats
and feeding them scraps of meat.
Loss and the Ta'nayu'ka (level 25 Bard Review)
Sun May 29 2016
This happened not so long ago and I know it to be true.
Aboard the Te'nayu'ka, that wonder of magic, they carry all manner of delicate things beneath the waves.
Spider-weave silks, dwarven steel, and spices from all the reaches of the realm. But some of their most valuable cargo is
travelers like you and me. This is the story of one such woman, and her tragic fate.
What race she was, I do not know, for it was not of import to he who told me this tale and it matters not
to me. We are all one, we who think and dream of better days. We know she was clever, though, and perhaps more
so then most, for what she uncovered is something that had been hidden from most. I am not ashamed to say that I,
too, knew nothing of this intrigue until I started looking into the truth of the tale. For I've spoken with
many who were on the great submarine that trip and to other, more sinister, creatures who also share blame
for her death... and the deaths of many others to come.
So... dim the lights and gather round. Hold close your ale and closer still your friends and lovers.
For this tale bodes ill for us all.
Aboard the Te'yanu'ka, that wonder of magic, traveled five passengers on the route from Rowengard to
Thalos. They were, each of them, lost in their own thoughts and cares, save one. One of them was dreadful seasick
and thought of nothing but the end of the voyage and solid ground. One of them was wrapped up in shadow, his
thoughts hidden by the dark hood of his cloak. One of them had kelp-green hair, and the look of someone who'd
sell her mother for the right price. One of them had visions of wealth and power, once she reached port and
sold the cargo she had stored below. And the last... the last was a young bard, all bright light and song,
stymied but unworried by her failed efforts to start conversations with her fellow passengers. Giving up on
teasing news of their travels, she fell back to filling the passenger berths with music and song.
She sang of Wild Rovers, she sang of Lost Sheep, she sang of Dead Bunnies, but nary a peep. From the
four shadowed passengers, she shared on that trip, not a word could she garner, 'til a birdsong she lipped.
T'was a merry song of cartwheels and flights, with a tune that you and I would know as a reel. But the
passenger with the dark cloak wrapped in shadow sat up, all intent, at the language of the song. Why he seemed to
take such interest in a song from the Aerie Volant, the bard did not know, but she had a keen eye on her audience
as she had been taught. So when one of them sat up all straight and she saw his features for the first time, she
made note and thought next she'd try a song about the dark elves. She had few of those in her repertoire, and
fewer still that were flattering, but there was one she could try. So when she'd chirped the last verse about
the little aarakocran falling 'sleep in his nest, she moved straight into The Slave Girl's Lament. Now our young
bard was not at all fluent in the Drow tongue, so she played only the tune on her silver flute. She was quite
good, and you could almost see the tears of the young lady that first night, sold into to the Drow to pay her
family's debts. You could hear the dark wind, flowing with magic through her new home under the ground.
And you could hear her cries of laughter and joy, as she came to love master and with him, even after she won
back her freedom. T'was a happy song, she'd been told, in Drow lands. For it spoke to the rightness of
slavery and to the place of the Drow at the top of the pile. Not so to others, but she thought it unlikely
they'd know the Drow tongue, or a Drow song, so it seemed safe enough. To the others it'd just be another
tune to brighten a long voyage and they none the wiser.
As the notes faded, she looked around and smiled, for the attentive part of her audience had doubled in size.
Now the Drow was smiling at her, though many would call it a frightful smile, like that of a cat who's just been
quicker than its lunch. But the gnome who'd paid no attention but to his bucket of sick was now staring up
at her as well and, if he was white as a sheet, well that must be on account of his seasickness and not her
lovely playing, right? For she was a young bard, and talented and smart, but not yet as wise as she could
have been. Had she wisdom as well she might have stayed her hands and her lips at the strange reactions of
her audience, but she was just happy at having gotten their attention and had hopes of a few mugs of ale or
other payments she might normally receive.
So after smiling extra hard at the gnome, which narrowed the eyes of the Drow, and thinking to keep the
attention of her second possible patron, she picked a new song next. A song about the Glitterbone Fortress,
which was merely half-done and, to her knowledge, had not yet been seen by any of the outside. But songs
travel farther than any one bard might. For each bard will pass them along one to the other, and on and
on, that all thinking folk may hear of faraway lands and know that other races are not so different from
themselves. So she offered a wink to the seasick gnome, and she sung him a song from his home. At the end
she drummed out the beat with her boots and tried to get her audience to jump up and stomp with her,
Glitterbone Fortress, where all gnomes are welcome,
Glitterbone Fortress, it'll stand e'en tho hell come!
But as she looked about, none around her seemed in the mood to sing, to dance, to stomp or to prance.
So feeling a bit tired and more than a bit dry she bought herself a mug of ale and retired to her hammock.
As she swayed to her rest, she watched the dancing lamplight cross the ceiling and smiled happily at
the thought of another day and the thought of another chance to teach and entertain the folks around her.
She woke late in the night to the sound of movement. Her bard-trained senses recognized the soft-soled
boots of the Drow, moving quietly so as to avoid troubling his fellow passengers. But then she heard him
unstopper a skin, and she knew from the sound it wasn't the jeweled one she'd seen on his belt, but a
cheaper one, such as was carried by... She shifted silently and gestured with her fingers, casting a spell
of invisibility with the silence of a bard, and peered over the edge of the hammock just in time to see
the Drow tip a vial into the waterskin resting atop the gnome's belongings. She thought back to the
sickness of the gnome, and the sea seemed no longer the most likely cause. With care an expert in poisons
might slip just enough in one's water, night after night, to slowly poison their enemy and none would be
the wiser when the poor gnome who'd been so sick for days succumbed in their weakness. After all, everyone
knew that gnomes did not take well to the water to begin with, and for one to lose their life while
traveling beneath it would practically be expected.
She made no sound as she slipped from her bunk and followed the Drow out into the hall. Neither the Drow
nor the crewman they passed noticed her as she heard the Drow explain, in flawless sahuagin, that he was
bound to make water down in the bilges. She crept along, holding still when the Drow would stop to look
her way, seemingly more concerned about being followed than his supposed purpose would warrant. She was
not at all surprised when he stopped to throw the vial down into the bilges, where dark shapes
rippled beneath the surface and large something snapped at the surface to swallow the vial, no doubt thinking
it edible.
Aboard the Te'nayu'ka, that wonder of magic, the young bard died that dark night. The few of the younger
crewmembers I convinced to talk to me about that voyage were certain none had seen the young bard leave
the passenger's berth. They remembered the Drow carried nothing large enough to conceal her body when he
left the passenger's berth late that night, nor when he returned an hour later.
The Drow was made to make recompense to the captain, not for the loss of a paying passenger, but for the
danger to her business. If word were to come out that a passenger were murdered, and a bard no less, her
profits would be the least of her worries. For bards are sacrosanct in many parts of the realm, and in
the rest, we avenge our own. That is what brought me to this tale. We know of the captain's part,
because she confessed it to me, as she lay bleeding on the floor of the bridge of her ship. But it was
not she who killed the girl. So she sails under the seas even still. And we visit her now and then to
remind her of her silence. Everyone dies some day. But, by the blessings of the gods, one can be brought
to the very brink of death over and over and over again. For the one thing that never ends is pain.
We know now too why the Drow was so interested in the Aerie, and Drow, and slave girls, and in Glitterbone.
Why he was so suspicious of the young bard who sang, by sad happenstance, songs of them one after another
with a smile and a wink for the crowd. There is a plot, and it spreads across the land like a festering
wound. The Drow serve Terraithe, who they call Demon Borne, and Terriathe has plans for the gnomes of
Glitterbone Fortress. Their plans exploit weaknesses in the council of the Aerie Volant, in Aramat's
barbarian hordes, and who knows how far else. I have found some of their secret letters and I have seen
such proof as can not be contested.
And as for the poor young bard, who disappeared about the Te'nayu'ka that fateful trip? How do I know she
came to a tragic end? For I swam thru the bilges of that vessel. I fought the terrifying creatures that
feast in that deep dark... and I brought back... this. The bard holds up a silver flute, tarnished from a
long time in the water, bearing the maker's mark of Master Amati, instrument-maker to the bards.
I took it to Master Amati and he recognized it as his work. A lovely silver flute he made for a pretty
young bard with the sweetest voice, fluent in many languages, and curious to the end.
The bard grows quiet and takes a sad, deep breath. As he raises the tarnished silver flute to his lips, he
whispers, this happened not so long ago and I know it to be true. And he began to play a song of cartwheels
and flight. He played a song of tears overcome by love. He played the unmistakable chorus to Glitterbone
Fortress. The flute slides to his lap and he blinks quickly, then closes his eyes to the tears.
Foghair's Final Challenge (level 30 Bard Review)
Crocus Vernus 'Silver Coral'
Consider the crocus with widen'd eyes
Her petals not merely beguiling guise
Not so alone as she'd have you think
There are two who can send her, over the brink.
In moonlit field, she wraps up all closed
Hidden in darkness, cold but not froze
The moon with its fangs, shadows, no light
A glorious pattern, one vow to the night.
At sight of the sun she shivers and spreads
One stormy romance, all tinged in reds
Before him alone, will she gather up dew
Whose coppery rays outshine me, and you.
Narrow your gaze and look closer still
Hold tight to promises, strong as you will
With cares of the heart, don't hold your word cheap
Consider the crocus, her vows does she keep.