Andrew's Songbook

[RollinsCat]

It's election time in Lor
The hopefuls line the floor
Flints and Jaks and Orebashers
It's election time in Lor

Lor the free, Lor the proud,
Our glorious city Lor!

It's election time in Lor
What will you vote for?
Independence, or do you want
Rael inside your door

Lor the free, Lor the proud,
Our glorious city Lor!

Even before the days of Raklin
We've been standing strong
From Galerights to Svendowskis
It's to Lor that we belong!

Lor the free, Lor the proud,
Our glorious city Lor!

So vote most carefully
Listen closely to each plea
Don't let footstomping decide for you
Your vote will keep you free!

[RollinsCat]

Arioso,

I saw your posting in the inn today. Someone had torn one down and left it on the table. If you are in need of an illusionist in the future, Mist and Muse willing, I will help you with your play.

Let us hope the storm passes soon, and such an avenue for play is open to us.




Night Sky

I am indeed in need of assistance, although I prevaricate as to the reason (mostly - I have two plays written, and lack only actors).

Willie the Bard is about to do some shows.

I have used his name a few too many times than I think is comfortable without substance, and so the venerable and not-as-talented-as-Andrew Willie shall be singing in a few prominent locations.  I will need all the help I can muster to not look like me; the poor singing I think I can handle on my own.

I would of course prefer your assistance above anyone else's in this sensitive matter, Mist and Muse willing.  If there is even a single thing I can do to assist you in the meantime, I am at your disposal.

Perhaps when your skies clear you'd like to be in a play as well?  I think you'd enjoy being Lord Pale...


Arioso

[RollinsCat]

*scribbled*

In a dark dark street
On a dark dark night...

[RollinsCat]

Heard a little story of a seaman bit ago
Sailing to the docks of Leringard
He washed ashore and promptly jumped right back into the drink
With a tale of fire-eyed monsters falling hard

(We've seen odder things, yah?)
(Oh yeah -- his name was Francis)

Francis spread his tale of woe to any open ears
Hoping someone else had seen the beasts
Ended up in the Leaky Keg to sleep off two week's drunk
Before his liver landed him with the priests

(Poor fella was beside himself)
(Prolly didn't smell too good by now, either)

It was to this inn my informants made their way
To see Francis regarding his ordeal
But poor Francis wasn't there to speak and they found instead
A businessman who offered them a meal

(Guy Poul -- ever heard of him?)
(Me neither)

Our friends became suspicious the longer dinner ran
Spoke their need to talk to Francis soon
Guy offered to guide them to the man who they still sought
Through twisting alleys by the light of moon

(The back alleys of Leringard?)
(Can you see where this is going?)

Francis gone the group were beset by Dracha Garra
Battling long into the misty night
Those dragon-stealing cultists took their best shot at our heroes
Until one upped and scampered from the fight

(Dracha Garra -- I get shivers just saying that name.)
(Fiery-eyed monsters -- draaaagons, maybe?)

Our friends searched the high and low looking for the cultist
But he'd found a darn good place to hide
So they went on to the Blackwatch to ask for their assistance
And found themselves being taken for a ride

(Them Blackwatch don't do nothing but for themselves, ya know)
(Buncha thugs iffn you ask me)

The Blackwatch didn't care about cultists in the city
But they sure did care about that Guy Poul
Our heroes were "encouraged" to forget what they had seen there
And left without a word by the watch that makes the calls

(Wonder who they're protecting, hmm?)

An' that's the story or my name ain't Willie the Bard!

[RollinsCat]

Muse save me from myself
Muse protect us waywards
Muse lay me down to sleep
With sweet and sober chords


Just One.

I'm burning up inside
All senses opened wide
Wrestling the desire to fight this fire with fire
I'm burning, burning up inside

Funny how things fade a few years down the line
Just one sip won't hurt
Just one sip
Just one...

There's a wire in my brain
I trip it now and then
The smell of corn mash or the clink of iced glass
I'm burning, burning up again

Funny what you'll justify after all this damned time
Just one sip won't hurt
Just one sip
Just one...

I'm restless at best, reckless at worst
A drunk, a liar, a cheat
I want what I want when I want it right now
High on my merry conceit

I'm burning up inside
I've thrown away my pride
High and dry in the ocean but drowning in the heat
I'm burning, burning up inside

[RollinsCat]

Buddy wants me to learn to sail.  I kiss my sobriety wholly goodbye, then.  But maybe this is a chance to find Bella?  


Sailing off from Leringard
Hauling wood and timber
Sailing from my girlie's heart
I'm sure gonna miss her

Heave and ho the rigging mates
Heave and ho the tiller
Heave and ho and hold the lines
This storm wind's a killer

Ocean's swelling angry now
Waves over the gunwhale
Hike the sides and shout your prayers
We don't lose our mainsail

Heave and ho the rigging mates
Heave and ho the tiller
Heave and ho and hold the lines
This storm wind's a killer

Winds are dying and we're not
Bless the Lady Doom
Winds are dying ship's afloat
We'll be in port soon

Heave and ho the cargo mates
Heave and ho the lumber
Heave and ho and clear the hold
So we can get some slumber




I met a lass on the shores of Fort Vehl
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin
Her face wasn't much but her coastline was swell
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin

This lass had a beam that could suck a man in
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin
Her luff was a flappin' so I asked for some trim
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin

Whiskey, ale vodka and gin
I'll drink any one with a song and a grin
I'm a fair man till I'm lookin' for sin
With my whiskey, ale vodka and gin

She took offense and flatly refused
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin
Till I offered my bottle of fine dwarven booze
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin

Twenty sips later she was ready to sail
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin
So I dropped my plank and offered my rail
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin

Whiskey, ale vodka and gin
You ain't much to look at till I get some in
I'm a fair man till I'm lookin' for sin
With my whiskey, ale vodka and gin

She climbed aboard and I started to strafe
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin
But my line wasn't set right and started to chafe
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin

I reset my line and was soon nearly through
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin
She hadn't reached port so she stopped with "heave to"!
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin

Whiskey, ale vodka and gin
Drinkin' one each will make your ship spin
I'm a fair man till I'm lookin' for sin
With my whiskey, ale vodka and gin

She came hard about till her bow was her stern
And hoisted my boom with a shake and a turn
Then brought us to dock while yelling LAND HO
Pulled down her skirts and disembarked with a glow

I ain't seen that lady since I sailed for Lor
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin
But you know if I do I'll be askin' for more!
Whiskey, ale, vodka and gin

Whiskey, ale vodka and gin
Drunk from a bottle, a mug or a tin
I'm a fair man till I'm lookin' for sin
With my whiskey, ale vodka and gin!

[RollinsCat]

For Annwyl and Ysgraine.

As much as it hurts me to write it.


Born into a house of love but outside looking in
Watching love wither caring hands slowly from within
The dancer grows to understand that love destroys the heart
But then...but then --

Born into a womb of frozen earth and icy hills
Trained and set aside to fill another's place and wills
The shaman grows to understand that love's just a distraction
But then...but then --

A turn, a bump, a clumsy touch
That moment when our lips brushed
An accident of fate in a second, in a rush
And then...and then --

That spark that heralds passion needs a name all of its own
A fanfare silent as a tingle that sings "you're not alone"
Together we have built a house of trust gained from the other
And this day we are making it our home

[RollinsCat]

My Dearest Symphony,
 
 I have made it here to the temple in North Point and found myself lovingly embraced in the arms of my brothers and sisters. I had feared their judgement and that they would turn me away but such was not the case.
 
 Father Leidanos and Brother Tarmaren, as well was Sister Wina have allowed to me to stay to help in the halls those that I may be able to while I await word of where I am to be assigned. There is a chance that I may be assigned in Krandor but I will go where the aid is needed most.
 
 I am certain that for once in my life I have truly been called down the path I was meant to be on. I truly have a chance to make a difference. These hands were made for My Caring Light to work his will through me. I have no doubt.
 
 Since I have come through the doors I have seen things that would tear at your heart My Love, and my own. It was not until I watched my brothers and sisters here that I truly understand how much courage and love fills each an every one of them. The compassion within them to comfort and aid the sick and to stand by the dying when their last breath is taken. It is heart wrenching but also so rewarding.
 
 While so many look harshly on them for their gentle ways, I can only look upon them with the deepest respect and admiration and pray that in time His Healing Light also shines within me.
 
 ~Minu

[RollinsCat]

I hear the Blackwatch saved orphans from harm
Bout time you all had a moment of pride
It's a start, it's a start -- one you can build off of
And it's getting' on time to decide

One right don't fix a thousand wrongs
But one step can lead to the next
I'll break the silence -- they're thugs, yours or not
And you can start writin' the rest

The good news I'm singin' is this ain't Prantz, not yet
You can still speak your mind -- mostly
But folks do disappear when they talk inconvenient truth
And that ain't no accident if you think closely

Who runs this town? Who is the Law?
Who stands behind the curtain of secrets and bribes?
It's your right to know
It's your town, it's your show
Those kids are one payment on far too many broken lives

The watch's there to keep order but whose order they keeping
They ain't taking orders from the mayor or Queen
Ask who they're helpin' and ask who they're not
And that's a good place to begin

One right don't fix a thousand wrongs
But one step can lead to the next
I'll say it out loud -- they're thugs, yours or not
And you can start writin' the rest

So think what's I'm sayin' and think round the box
And talk to each other fore the secrets turn to lies
A town guard should be something you can depend on
And not an object of fear or surprise

[RollinsCat]

That Marcus - I need to sing with him more often.

Another hangover.  Annwyl is disappointed.  I feel rotten.

But - new songs for Willie, courtesy of Marcus and a bottle of whiskey.

Keyhole in the Door

I had just come home and I took a room
I was all settled down to recline
When I saw a delectable maid go by
To the room next door to mine
Like a bold adventurer then
I set out to explore
And I took up my position by
The keyhole on the door

The keyhole in the door
My boys, the keyhole in the door
I took up my position
By the keyhole in the door

She first took off her slippers
Her dainty feet to show
And then she took her knickers off
And revealed her so-and-so
And when she stretched out on her bed
I couldn't stand no more
It was one, two, three, I turned the key
In the keyhole in the door

The keyhole in the door
My boys, the keyhole in the door
It was one, two, three, I turned the key
In the keyhole in the door

She didn't say a single word
But she took me in her arms
And pretty soon I was much engaged
In charting all her charms
But just in case some other sailor
Might see the sights I saw
I hung my trousers right above
The keyhole in the door

The keyhole in the door
My boys, the keyhole in the door
I hung my trousers right above
The keyhole in the door

That night I rode in glorious style
And other things besides
And on her rocking seas, my boys
I had such lovely rides
But when I woke next morning, boys
My instrument was sore
As if I had been using it
On the keyhole in the door!

The keyhole in the door
My boys, the keyhole in the door
As if I had been using it
On the keyhole in the door

Be warned by this, young sailormen
And listen unto me
What I caught then, no fishermen
Have ever caught at sea
Beware the pox, the hidden rocks
That lie in wait ashore
It's safer far to bend your spar
In the keyhole in the door

The keyhole in the door
My boys, the keyhole in the door
It's safer far to bend your spar
In the keyhole in the door!

After half a bottle neither one of us could come up for a name for this one.

A toast to noble lady
In cheer she tips her glass
And when her cup is empty
She flashes us her -
 
Assassins in the courtyard
They'll have to catch him quick
He's out to find a lady
And stick her with his -
 
Dicker with the merchants
And haggle over stock
Be sure its by the arm length
Not measured by his
 
Cocktails after dinner -
And songs sung by a bard!
Advances from a comely lass
Are sure to make him -
 
Hardened in the oven
His tankard is the best
He spun it on his potter's wheel
And shaped it like -
 
Abreast the men stand ready
Their weapons poised for war
They're dreaming of last evening
How they spent it with the -
 
Hoarse a man lies dying
A little death in bead
He thinks no way is better
His wife gives him good -
 
Heading to a party
She's happy to have stayed
For the rumour down in Leringard
Is that everyone gets -
 
Laid out on the table
Fair trimmings and a roast
Good gentles stand together
I'd like to give a toast!

To Leringard!

[RollinsCat]

Anthemusa

I wanted to let you know Willie's concert went off very well. I hope to tell the story in person, the better to hear you laugh - and as such, I have another request of your time should you have it to give.

I need to learn some of your art of disguise. I understand your skill has been honed for decades longer than I've been alive. But if I could learn and reliably reproduce even a tiny fraction of your talent, it would help me greatly with where I seem to be going. Illusion I already understand somewhat, conceptually at least. But makeup? Well, you saw my attempt at a Willie face.

I hope your time is such that you can entertain a teaching role. I promise to be a very good student and bring an apple for you each lesson and you are welcome to spank me if I even try to goof off in class.

Arioso

[RollinsCat]

*Andrew sits on a wooden stool by a stone-topped table, deep in the Rofireinite temple in Fort Vehl.  His cloak is rolled up inside his pack.  His silver heart and clef necklace is in his fingers, zipping back and forth on the silver chain around his neck.

He flips another page, a letter.  The quiet is broken by metronomic feet walking past, armored ones by the gentle clanking reverberations.  Then the sound fades down the hall.  He turns the letter over onto the pile he's already read, makes a note in a small ragpaper journal.  His long fingers carefully lift a sheet of thin vellum and smooth it flat.  Dust motes swirl in the sunbeam illuminating the desk.  His eyes never leave the page.

It isn't until those tiny dust dancers are no longer visible in dusk's gloomy bustle that he tucks the journal in a pocket and carefully places all the papers together.  He feels compelled to tuck the pages flush and make sure each scrap and note is in it's place.  Must be something about breathing Rofierinite air - although I'll grant them this, they keep excellent history.  He ties the heavy leather binder shut and slings it under one arm, heading back to the prim-faced woman from whom he obtained it.

Later in his rented room, he lights a few candles and sets out ink and quill, paper and blotter, and his drying sand.  He sits at the cramped writing desk, singing to himself, and begins his ritual of correspondance.*


Greetings, Paladin Brendimeere.

You do not know me; my name is Andrew Reid.  I have been perusing the information regarding the trial of one Saida Rothsford, nee Pepperin, and have found your name mentioned many times as well as letters written by you.

I have of late been a person of interest to Miss Rothsford.  She is a fixture around Port Hempstead, a place I frequent.  My most recent encounter with her resulted in myself being charmed after refusing implied gifts in exchange for...well, I didn't ask.  She attempted to force me to kiss her in public.  Given what I know of her I'm fortunate that I was able to get free of the charm she cast.  I have no doubt that I'd have been held up on rape charges had she been able to complete whatever she had in mind.

I'm sorry to be long-winded, as a singer and storyteller it's in my blood I suppose.  What I am asking for is an audience with you or failing that, information that may help me in dealing with her.  I do not imply murder when I say that - to be clear.  Only that she's a danger and information is my strongest weapon to avoid that danger, and you would appear to have a lot of it.

If you would grace me with some of your time I would be much obliged.  If not, I take letters at 137 Leringard in Leringard, Kingdom of Trelania.

Thank you for reading, sir, and I hope to hear from you.

Sincerely,

Andrew Reid

[RollinsCat]

Walking to Vehl.  Dedicated to Willie.

Walking to Vehl I was thinking of you
Singing to the rain with my head in a stew
Too long since I've seen you, I was in a fair funk
Consoling myself with a bottle of brew

Up ahead on the road was a tall thin old man
He moved slow but steady, boots scuffing the sand
I reined in my pace and greeted him kindly
And gave him a glance as I strolled close at hand

His skin thin as parchment, his age clearly showing
His walk was a shuffle but still he kept going
On his back a guitar harp and violin
Each one of them yew and each of them glowing

He turned and looked and my heart skipped three beats
I had a hard time staying up on my feet
His face mirrored mine but for forty odd years
Myself was not someone I expected to meet

The old man just smiled and chuckled a wee
Coughed twice and pulled out some fine old whiskey
He uncorked the bottle with a swift little twist
Took a long drink and then passed it to me

You found me, he said with his rusty old tenor
I wondered if you would, I've been walking forever
Bout time you caught on to things that you've been avoiding
And I'm glad you've figured out you're not all that clever

He reached around slowly, patting his pack
And removed that glowing violin from his back
The bow was a line of pure light in his hands
While his voice - and his eyes -- hit my soul like a tack

You're standing barefoot on the knife's edge of youth
Kid, I've paced cross that floor, I've faced that truth
You've run and you've hidden but it's time for some facts
Take just one moment to think and relax

While he sang we came to fork in the road
Not one I remember nor one any map showed
He stopped then to face me and kept up the song
While I listened in awe with my head fully bowed

He sang to me, Son, you see I'm quite alone
No woman, no children, no place to call home
I play and I sing but there's not a  one
I can cleave to or hold close or call all my own

You're not here just yet -- you've still got time
So think bout your future and not just your next rhyme
I hear it each time your heart aches for love
I'm listening, son, and so's She, up above

No one is making you stop chasing skirts
But let me tell you, being alone really hurts
Remember whose heart you wear on that cloak
And remember this day when we stood here and spoke

He gave one more nod, his grey hair wet with the rain
And turned, moving stiffly, along the right lane
He was soon lost to sight - I stayed rooted in place
Staring down each road again and again

But I'm walking to Vehl now, the path feels new
Pondering the twists and turns we pursue
My step feels lighter though my pack weighs no less
I'm walking to Vehl and thinking of...you

[RollinsCat]

*Two candles are lit in rapid succession.  Ink, paper, quill, blotter and sand are tossed on the table without pause, utterly lacking the sensual enjoyment of preparation normally observed.  The paper is flattened by a pair of shaking hands.  The quill is dipped too deep, blotted too fast.  The penmanship - usually a source of pride - quivers on the page.*



Paladin Brendimeere.

Please disregard my previous letter, if you indeed received it.  All matters have been resolved and I will not need to communicate with you.

Thank you for your indulgence.


Andrew Reid

[RollinsCat]

You walked around in circles and I followed in a line
The monkeys were the chorus and the elephant kept time
The audience was waiting for the fat lady to sing
Twenty blackbirds in a pie flew on beaten wing
And I was still behind you making lines across the sand
You joined them with your shuffling timed to the beastly band
I didn't want to walk into the lion's waiting den
So I pull the sword from your ivory neck and kill you with my pen

But it's not the day for that talk, my love
It's not the day for that

You took your golden scissors and you cut my heart right out
And served back to me in a sauce of bitter stout
I admit it tasted better than I thought it ever could
But then I'm quite the masochist and you knew that I would
The thorns and daggers in your eyes turned to roses in your mouth
So I turned my line inside your sphere and headed to the south
But you're never really done with me and so you closed the loop
Now I'm trapped inside your nightmare and drinking your noise soup

But it's not the day for that talk, my love
It's not the day for that

I'm weary of the pretense and I'm tired of the show
I want to pick my music up and I really want to go
Never let them see you sweat and never miss a line
Be careful who you star with in the theatre divine
But words of wisdom rolled off me like water on a duck
Now every time I look at you I only feel stuck
Screaming feeds the frenzy and tears have no effect
I should really tell you but I can't be that direct.

And it's never the day for that talk, my love
It's never the day for that
It's never the day for that.

[RollinsCat]

*the writing on this short scroll is italic script; the letters are not the usual strong strokes but show signs of a trembling hand*

Minu.  Minuet.

This is my fifth draft and still I can't get it right.  Yes, so long as you'll have me - there, now you can read the rest without wondering.

I was, am, still willing to be a part of your life along with Omer.  I hope for your sake he pulls his skull out of his behind and realizes what he's tossing aside in the name of his pride; but if he doesn't, well, more for me.  Is that too honest?  I hope it made you smile.

Love cannot be forced and love must sometimes be shared.  We both understand this.  If he comes around, or if my other love wishes more someday?  I will never make you choose and I know you won't force the same on me.

I had a lot more to say but I think I'll tell you after we have proper make-up...conversation.  

Love,

Takeshi


P.S. Tiger misses you.  He spent days whining under the bed.




My Dearest Andrew,
 
 Love can not be a forced choice, as I feel it has been made, not by you but by Omer. So I have sent a letter to him, to ask him if he can understand my feelings, and how much I love you and how I am not willing to let that go.
 
 I await to hear word from him, but I wish you to know I do love you, I treasure you, and my heart is always going to be with you. Your Muse has blessed us with an understanding and unbreakable bond, and I feel as if my heart has been forced to make a decision to simply push love away for the sake of another, to choose not only between friends but what I know and embrace as the truth between us both.
 
 I know there was an understanding between us that should the others love return it would be understood, but now that that decision is upon us. I can not simply turn my back on the love we share.
 
 If you truly can should your love appear, please let me know Andrew. Please I ask of you only this that you be honest with me as you always have.
 
 Your Minu so long as you will have me,
 
 ~Elohanna

[RollinsCat]

*the writing of this short note is a neat italic script in black ink*

Jay. Or is it J?  Or Jai, perhaps?  I've never asked.

I have my ear to the ground regarding your request; I've heard a lot of rumbling regarding the orcs in mid-Brelin.  But that's not why I write.

Recently Quantum organized a trip to the Ice Marshes and I went along.  He had heard a rumor that a lich was harboring up that way.  I cannot now (thanks to an untimely demise and copious amounts of ale) remember the exact name he gave but I believe it's your selfsame lich of interest because there just can't be that many of them.  Maleicious?  Marasomething?  Muse, I can't recall.

At any rate the majority of the trip was uneventful, until we were trying to leave.  It was then that a contingent of remarkably powerful undead, including the vampire that was the death of me, popped up like ice daisies.  Decaying ice daisies.

I would give you a full recounting except that I was a thin charred lump of flesh until Elly raised me so I would point you to Quantum for details.  But I felt  you should know; if you're hunting it, it has a presence there.


Andrew




*written on a slip of parchment that appears to have been tightly rolled*

Mechidli, his name is Mechidli.

[RollinsCat]

Written after Tyra's endless moaning over my drinking the other night.  

Some of us come here to make with the merry
And some of us laugh with fermented glee;
Some of us flirt with the maids quite contrary
And some of us come here to drink ourselves free

So bring
On
The beer
The ale, the wine and good cheer
Bring out the sloe gin and let's get to dancin' for the sauce can be takin' the blame

Some of us sit here to drown out a sorrow
And some of us sit here with no place to sleep;
Some of us sit here till dawn brings the morrow
And some of us salt our drinks while we weep

But bring
On
The beer
The ale, the wine and good cheer
Bring out the whiskey and let's get to frisky cause we'll be hanged for a fool all the same

Whether here for our woes
Or to sip in repose
We'll get drunk from our head to our toes...soooo....

Bring
On
The beer!



And traded the next day for this gem: I'm dedicating this one to Kurn even though I didn't write it.



Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog
It's all for me beer and tobacco
For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin
Far across the western ocean I must wander

Where are me boots, me noggin', noggin' boots?
They're all gone for beer and tobacco
The heels are worn out and the toes are kicked about
And the soles are looking out for better weather

I'm sick in the head and I haven't been to bed
Since first I came ashore with me plunder
For I spent all me dough on the lassies movin' slow
Far across the Western Ocean I must wander

Where is me shirt, my noggin', noggin' shirt?
It's all gone for beer and tobacco
The collar is all worn, and the sleeves they are all torn
And the tail is looking out for better weather

Where is me bed, me noggin' noggin bed
It's all gone for beer and tobacco
Well I lent it my wench, and now the sheets are drenched
And the springs are looking out for better weather

Where is me wench, me noggin' noggin' wench
She's all gone for beer and tobacco
Her  (clap) is all worn out and her (clap) is knocked about
And her (clap) is looking out for better weather

Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog
It's all for me beer and tobacco
I spent all me loot in a house of ill repute
And I think I'll have to go back there tomorrow!

[RollinsCat]

Lana;

I can understand your position, Milady.  Love often that way for me; too precious to leave, too large to horde.  As I write a lady I love may be in the arms of a man she thought lost and I will not begrudge her a moment if I know she's happy and I can still have my moments with her.

I thank you for the song and I will be delighted to add it to my songbook.  In return, a song I wrote for Tugs Sunnytoes when he made up the title and challenged me to fill in the rest.  I think you'll enjoy it and I hope you have as much fun singing it as I do.


*a separate scroll contains the words and music to The Farmer's Daughter*


I hope we can continue to share music, Lana.  Perhaps I shall write us a duet to amaze our friends and audiences with?

Yours in the Muse,


Andrew




Andrew,

A copy of the song you liked:

Sailors dance, sailors sing, sailors' hearts will all take wing!
For when those sailors get on shore, they'll find our Essa at th' tavern door.
Drink, sailor, drink. Dance, sailor, dance.
Oh, dance all night till broad daylight, and wake on the floor in the morning light,
While Essa dances on!

Soldiers dance, soldiers sing, soldiers' hearts will all take wing!
For when those soldiers get to town, they'll find our Essa in a stunning gown.
Drink, soldier, drink. Dance, soldier, dance.
Oh, dance all night till broad daylight, and wake on the floor in the morning light,
While Essa dances on!

Old men swoon, young men sing, and their hearts will all take wing!
For when our Essa struts and preens, men 'll fall like flies on the village greens
Drink, old man, drink. Dance, young man, dance.
Oh, dance all night till broad daylight, and wake on the green in the morning light,
While Essa dances on!

Essa is very like you, I think, with a heart big enough for the whole world. She loved my Benjamin dearly though, and I had not the heart to deny her. So, we shared him. I wish that we still could.

Your friend,
Lana

[RollinsCat]

Andrew,

I hope this note finds you well my friend.

I would like to meet you at the Wild Surge Inn sometime in the near future if your schedule will allow it.  As of late, I have been thinking a great deal of my past...my home...and my parents.  I do not believe I have ever told you the entire story of how I came to Mistone some years ago.

Feawen has been helping me cope with the thoughts flowing through my mind these days.  She said that I should talk more about it to our friends.  I consider you a good friend Andrew, and would like to talk about this with you and see if you can offer some insight.

Let me know when the next time you will be in Hlint, and I will make my way to the Wild Surge to meet you.

The Ales are on me!

Your friend,
Shadowleaf