
It was a simple late afternoon, just after dinner, that people noticed something different in the village of River's End. Strange noises were coming from the hearth in the central square. Perhaps it was some naughty boy, or perhaps the sentries were raising the alarm: could the armies have begun to move earlier than expected? If so, the situation was far more than dramatic... it was disastrous.
However, the worried ones discovered their fears were unfounded: it wasn't naughty boys, it wasn't the sentries, but it was, although unusual, a minstrel. She had fiery red hair and clothes that were quite unusual but definitely in line with what one would expect of a bard, and of course, a wide hat, reminiscent of a duelist's, complete with feathers. In the center of the square, she was simply singing to the town. Happy songs, songs that can revive the heart, songs to reflect on, melancholy songs, and sometimes even songs of inspiration.
Among the songs sung, many considered popular emerged, including: Ever a Hero Be, The Crafty Maid's Policy, The Ballad of the Dream Weaver, the Ballad of the Wayfarer, and her version of Wind by the Fireside.
...But deep in halls dark and haunted
Even heroes bold, high-vaunted
Twice and thrice, to end up daunted
Think of loved ones deeply wanted
And much safer places to be...
Even heroes bold, high-vaunted
Twice and thrice, to end up daunted
Think of loved ones deeply wanted
And much safer places to be...
Come listen a while and I'll tell you a story,
of three merry gentlemen riding along.
They met a fair maiden and unto her did say,
"We're afraid this cold morning might do you some harm."
"Oh no, kind sir," said the maid, "you're mistaken,
to think this cold morning might do me some harm.
Yet there is one thing I crave, and it lies twixt your legs sir,
if you give me that it will keep me warm."
"Oh since you do crave it, my dear you shall have it,
if you'll come with me under yonder green tree.
Oh since you do crave it, my dear you shall have it,
I'll make these two gentlemen witness to thee."
The gentleman lighted and straight way she mounted,
and looking the gentlemen hard in the face,
said, "ye knew not my meaning, you wrong understood me."
And away she went galloping down the long lane.
"Come gentlemen lend me one of your horses,
that I might ride after her down the long lane.
If I over-take her, I warrant I'll make her,
return unto me own horse again."
This young maid was watching, she saw them a-coming,
she instantly then took her pistol in hand,
said, "doubt not my skill, or it's you I shall kill,
and I'll have you stand back or you are a dead man."
"Oh why do you spend all your time here in talking,
oh why do you spend all of your time here in vain?
Come give her a penny, it's what she deserves,
and I warrant she'll give you your horse back again."
"Oh no, kind sir," said the maid, "you're mistaken,
for if it's his loss then it is my gain,
and you are a witness that he gave it to me."
And away she went galloping over the plain.
I cast my net in the sea of night
And bring back a catch of glittering dreams.
Which will you have, proud lord, laughing lord?
This bright one, perhaps, or that?
Gleaming silver-blue, winking at you
With its own mysterious, inner light,
It is so beautiful.
Yet so is that one, and that, and this, too.
I cannot choose.
Take them all.
Take them all!
And bring back a catch of glittering dreams.
Which will you have, proud lord, laughing lord?
This bright one, perhaps, or that?
Gleaming silver-blue, winking at you
With its own mysterious, inner light,
It is so beautiful.
Yet so is that one, and that, and this, too.
I cannot choose.
Take them all.
Take them all!
Another morn brightens the rain
And so I must travel on again
To see fresh marvels ahead.
Eating wayfarers' bread,
The leavings are my only pain.
And so I must travel on again
To see fresh marvels ahead.
Eating wayfarers' bread,
The leavings are my only pain.
So as you shiver in the cold and the dark,
Look into the fire and seen in its spark
My eye
Watching over you.
As you walk in the wind's whistling claws,
Listen past the howling wolf's jaws.
My song
Comes to you.
Faerûn will grow warmer,
And the gods will smile.
But hold your heart against the storm
My love still walks for lonely miles.
And when you're lost in trackless snow,
Look up high where the eagles go.
My star
Shines for you.
In deep, dark mine or on crumbling peak,
Hear the words of love I speak.
My thoughts
Are with you.
Faerûn will grow warmer,
And the gods will smile.
Wait for the dawn, though shadows fall
I’ll find you, though it will take a while.
You are not forsaken.
You are not forgotten.
The North cannot swallow you.
The snow cannot bury you.
I will come for you.
Faerûn will grow warmer,
And the gods will smile.
But oh, my love, guard yourself well
All this may not happen for a long, long while.
Faerûn will grow warmer,
And the gods will smile.
But oh, my love, guard yourself well
All this may not happen for a long, long while.

Finally, after all the songs, she gave those present a simple gift: a silver brooch depicting a five-stringed harp made of leaves. Each person received one for their audience, if there were any, and then she teleported away. The red-haired woman seemed to return and depart practically every day, singing different tunes each time, but always at approximately the same time after a long and exhausting day.
//My perform roll for Mimic, if needed, under the spoiler.
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