[The Bard's Canvas]

[chrijone]

[SIZE="6"][FONT="Garamond"]Introduction[/SIZE]

Within this book you will find the many songs and poems, ballads and performances that I Eschallus Tyrneladhelu. Morningdove. Have collected and wrote to be performed, may the aspiring bard use them with wisdom and spread our beautiful art to all corners of Faerun.

Dance of the Feywild

The Dance of the Feywild is a very potent and powerful song if played correctly. It is an eldritch tune that holds a very deep and powerful connection to the lands of the fey and the magics they control. It has the power to attract the fey should it be played at celebrations held near mushroom circles and glades in the woods. It is to be played with lute or panpipes. The song is very upbeat and it's aim is to promote emotions of joy, wonder and general happiness in it's audience. When performing it, ensure that you are yourself in good spirits or the song will not work and it ruins the song.

[hide=Dance of the Feywild]
Come ye now to where the flowers grow, spirits so high and neve-er low! Dance with fey and YOU will see! That a lovers heart beats, beats so free!

I see a pretty maiden from afar. I wander closer, very much like to know who you are. I sing this song, in wonder, am I wrong. Will you be mine this night of nights, beneath the moon we will dance - perhaps a spoon?

Feel the meloday strike your soul. Feel it coming, take ahold! Of your feet now, move with mine! Oh I see a maiden who's beauty should be a crime-e

Come ye now to where the flowers grow, spirits so high and neve-er low! Dance with fey and YOU will see! That a lovers heart beats, beats so free!

Let me tell you, of a land I knew. There ran river and was forest thick as oak. A place of little people spoke, for it was too beautiful to capture with just word. The notion, you'd think absurd.

In these lands of fey and dance. A man was known to loose his pants. But worry not now, little boy. Your stones are safe here in this land of joy. Find a maiden and sing to her, this almighty eldritch lure.

Come ye now to where the flowers grow, spirits so high and neve-er low! Dance with fey and YOU will see! That a lovers heart beats, beats so free!
Come! Ye! Now to where the flowers grow! Spirits so high and neve-er low! Dance! With! Fey and YOU will see! That a lovers heart beats, beats so free-e![/hide]

Shaded Mystlocke

Shaded Mystlocke is song that is written about the many strange happenings in Mistlocke, it's prophecy of Last Keep, it's factions and the common event  of adventurers attempting to reach for the stars and ultimately falling. It is to be sung whilst a melody, eerie and rich is played upon fiddle or lute. It is designed to chill and to bring about emotional connections to the audience.
 

[hide=Shaded Mystlocke]
Look to prophecy!  Perhaps you will see, the madness behind, each sage and his rhymes or shall it be revealed in time? Do you believe there is sense in it, is it truth or myth? I hear you ask of songs I sing, of roaming tribes and kings. Of crowns and lands, smothered in shadows.

See me in the shadows![Shadows!]
Shades in the dark!
See me in the shadows! [Shadows!]
Dreaming in the shadows!

Mistlocke. A town of wonder and legend. To be something more, than whatever came before? The aspirations of the young warrior taken to flight, he spreads his wings and leaps from the cliff to this, his final sight.

See me in the shadows! [Shadows!]
Shades in the dark!
See me in the shadows! [Shadows!]
Dreaming in the shadows!

How bitter the treason, that they lied, all the answers to his riddles they chose to hide. Down in Mistlocke where the mist lingers, there is a heavy hearted man. Down in Mistlocke where the mist lingers, there sits an an old stag. Down in Mistlocke where the mist lingers, there is a sly crow.

Riddle the shade!
See them in the shadows!
Monsters in the dark!
See them in the shadows!
Sleeping.

We band together, whether we wither the weather, yet we will see! This is the land of Ymph and all upon it shall glimpse that death is a natural thing, sorrow such sorrow it can bring. Look not now into the past and see of them the last, moments they had. Think more of their memories and all their beautiful stories, they are what you should keep in your heart. To grant you warmth from the dark.

See me in the shadows! [Shadows!]
Shades in the dark!
See me in the shadows! [Shadows!]
Dreaming in these shadows!
Where darker shades still sleep.
[/hide]

The War of Ymph

The War of Ymph is a poem written about the war with the maiden and how we clash with each other instead of with unity against her and the dreaded army she commands. It is aimed to strike at the hearts of people, to test them for that emotional response. Many can relate to having lost a loved one as "The father mourns his son" perhaps if many come to understand it's meaning we will see brighter days ahead.

[hide=The War of Ymph]The fields been left in sorrow,
A father mourns his son,
Forever gone.
The sun shines bright,
And anger rises!
Lorn and lonely,
Torn apart-
Don't you think,
It's time to stop now!
We were charmed and fooled,
By the wretched Maiden's gaze.
Don't you hear them?
Crying!
Crying!
Come take them away,
Over the mountain!
To mist and safety!
War and anger left to reign!
Clash of steel resounds,
By the blindless we're driven insane!
Reason is muffled in wars bloody sound.[/hide]

Oh Rover

Oh Rover is a short poem about the never ending adventures and mysterious paths of a wanderer. It speaks mainly of the Wyrm Watcher's forest and the mystery it holds. It was aimed to promote people to explore the island. Which it does it a certain extent, forge your own path and never may you loose sight of the stars.

[hide=Oh Rover]Oh Rover,
The Mysterious forest's call,
To Mists neck deep,
And dungeons old,

The Mists were roaring,
On the hine,
The dead were moaning,
All through the night

The sky is green,
There is no dream,
And the end is nowhere in sight.[/hide]

The Song of Drakein

Drakein was a fearless little halfling I met in my travels. He lives for the hunt and to make his people strong. I was so inspired by his courage and curious of his way of life that I asked for him to sing and this was what he could manage, although with slight additions from myself. It is to be played with either panpipes and a lute with a drum or just drums.

[hide=Song of Drakein]Listen now and listen hard!
A tale spun by bard,
Of Drakein the fearless.

Fight good,
Power strong!
Will fight for kin very long!

Cat, Bird, Lizard good!
Will fight with power,
Earned through blood!

Will travel,
Find power,
Power to aid his kin!
This is the song,
Of a fearless little hin[/hide]

Sending Him On

This very short poem is to be read at the funeral or over the corpse of a person who has died. If the person is simply female, change all the him's to her's the poem is flexible like this. It is short and sweet and will ease the spirits passing to the hands of Kelemvor for judgement.

[hide=Sending Him On]
--Sending On--
We're sending him straight,
We're sending him true.
From this land,
Up to you!
Reiceve him well,
Good man he was!
Deserves not a hell,
But his gods.
[/hide]

[/FONT][/SIZE]

[chrijone]

[FONT="Garamond"][SIZE="6"]The performance of "I Knew Him Not".[/SIZE]

[SIZE="4"]This is a short performance depicting a man(or woman.) who's struggle with vampirism leads to the death his or her brother. It opens with a combat scene. Feel free to extend this with a partner but ultimately this aimed to be performed in most part alone. It is a great performance of sadness and sorrow, that a curse this man holds leads him to await his end in his halls. The aim is to show that even monsters have purpose and even they can regret. It's not all black and white, the world is made of many different colours.
[/SIZE]
[SIZE="5"][A  opening battle scene. The performer against their sibling brother, both wield swords and ultimately the performer wins. Ensure to make it clear the performer is the greater warrior. All text marked with speech marks isn't song and spoken to a figure unseen beyond the audience.]

[Drop sword.] "Oh what have I done? Crimson marks that which is soft of pale and mine, such innocence lost."

"A sad day is this, that thy vision is gone. Mine also- alas poor Samuel. I knew him not in the end." [Cast aside your eyes.] "For I knew him only as a friend!"

"But by mine hand we clashed, not as siblings. No as the dove took flight, such heated sword strokes like a man possed. In the end I was as much a brother to an ass as I was to him. Nay we knew each other not."

"For I was his foe." [Clench fist.] "Stained crimson forevermore. I weep inside for what has come to pass."

"That which was once of my closest kin now lays cold upon the grass." [Look away.]

[Hold silence and stare with agony and loss into an unanimated object. Lute moves to your hand.]

"He was but a brother, a child, a babe. Never held a sword before, much was he afraid."

"To rise against that which had been twisted. Mock the dove! Mock the dove! What have I done?" [Stare at killing hand in horror and begin deep dark melody.]

"Was it mine? These pretty fingers dipped in red. Crimson. Was it these? I cannot be sure." [Shakes head.] "No! I am sure that it was these betraying daggers to the back which pulled the arrow!"

"I shot the dove. Twas me" [Shake head in and drop hand to lute. Begin to play melody fitting of the performance. A cold melody, deep with sad tones. Feel free however to experiment.] "In the end. I knew him not." [Spring forth alive with music. The song begins, it begins at a quick pace but gradually slows down into a mourners lament as you realize what you have done.]

Twas me! Twas me!
I fired the shot!
Held the blade!
Too late am I!
My soul cannot be saved.

My vision now fades.
I see shadows, creeping.
This is my punishmenet!
For my heinous crime!
They whisper,
Softly spoken hooks through my flesh,
I am afraid.
I know they are waiting

These soft hands,
White doves painted red.
My tongue betrays me,
As does my head!
Callous silence now,
I brood in these halls.

Cold stone is my warmth,
The stained steel of my blade,
But my only friend.
Silence!
I hark!
To the cracking of my blackened heart-
What am I?
What have I become?

To of thrusted that sword,
Twisted and his life undone.
I cannot now make amends,
I wait for the day,
That a hero comes,
And this tale ends.

Sit tormented by,
Past ghosts and angered shades.
Within these lonely halls,
Where sadness plays.

Touch of sun upon my flesh.
The sting of flame.
Oh what have I become?
Here where madness rules,
I walk not under the sun.
I hunger,
Yet not for food.

My infernal craving.
Oh i weep.
Nightmares and visions.
Worse things steal away,
with my precious-
I weep.
Locked in these cold halls,
Sitting upon my throne.

A throne of torment,
With a crown of thorns.
I wait and I weep.
Of this tale,
Straight without bend!
I weep and I wait!
Till a hero steps forth,
And it ends.

[Stop playing lute, stare at sword hand. Word forgiveness but do not speak.]

"In the end" [Stare at fallen blade, stand taller and clench hand.] "I knew him not."
[/FONT][/SIZE]