Wandersong Bard Novels & Stories

"Tomorrow, the whole territory will know your name." "The big pack sponsors are making huge trouble for Rowan now," Selene Moonwhisper laughs over the phone line. "The Silverhowl Bard Guild is losing all its power fast. Meredith had to stop all her song recordings today. You won the first fight, Eloise!" "I am happy to hear that," I say, sitting at the big table. "What about the song part?" I ask, because I want to know if Trial Elder Ronan picked a wolf yet. "They did not choose anyone yet," Selene says.

Boro turned back to the plate of roasted chicken, potatoes and rice placed in front of him and ate his dinner all while entranced by the music. As soon as he was done eating, Boro waited for the song to finish and the two to take a break. He asked the bar woman, Rendra, for two more mugs of beer. She looked at the mug in front of him, still more then half full and then grinned. "The knarled man playing at bard is Evin by the way" Rendra informed him. "He treats Isbella like his daughter so watch your manners. If I hear anything about you being vulgar with her... Not even that sword will protect you"

The voice that bends emotion, weaving itself into the hearts of those who listen. Legends say the mate of a Windsong is bound deeper than fate itself. When two sing together—Windsong and fated—they create a harmony that forges a bond unbreakable, a thread of magic that ties them not only for this lifetime, but through every life that follows.

He grabbed his phone and dialed the Brittania Star Name Registry. A voice, detached and impersonal, delivered the blow, "Sorry, the 'Jessica' star has fallen." His heart twisted in agony. "Stars didn't just fall, did they?" Desperate, he shouted, "I'll buy another—no, ten more! All named 'Jessica'!" However, the voice on the line regretfully informed him there were no stars left to name. The call ended as dawn crept across the sky. Barefoot, Anthony wandered the streets, the sharp stones biting into his feet.

Jarngrimr winked from below on the deck: "Parroting my songs are you, turtledove? I composed that for my old love Freida, now enemy. How about you top this one, Yolanda? And Turry - you must sing too!" We all belly laughed, Yolanda throwing me like a shining coin into the aether, snow blushing white down on my cheeks, then she caught me with the elegance of a dappled mare. Jarngrimr belted: I move like the winds through a pine barren and my heart is crystallized, atrophied ice. My sclera are fogged with the dead, bleeding souls of my raven boys, don’t touch the gale of my lungs, for I breathe out ruin and rue.

None could explain how life had grown from stone, but for some reason, they smiled. --- The Wanderer’s Path Liora journeyed north after that, through mountains and forests untouched by memory. Sometimes she slept beneath the stars, sometimes beneath roofs offered by kind strangers. In every place she went, something changed. A quarrel between lovers ended in forgiveness. An abandoned chapel filled with song again. A river long poisoned began to run clear. She never announced herself as anything special. When people asked who she was, she only said, “Someone who listens.”

she whispered back, though a soft, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "It is not the fire," Xander corrected softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as they reached the edge of the cleared space in the center of the plateau. "It is you. You are the brightest thing in this entire forest." The fiddlers, sensing the arrival of their leaders, seamlessly transitioned the music. The fast, breathless jig slowed, melting into a deep, resonant, and profoundly ancient melody. It was the Song of the First Winter—a piece of music that spoke of survival, of finding warmth in the darkest, coldest nights, and of the unbreakable bonds forged in the frost. The drums laid down a slow,

The most powerful of the Pirate Lords was now that much stronger. But Ledomir had also acquired the services of Maharis LongFinger, an elven bard of great renown in Black. Maharis had a voice that people described as other-worldly. I was looking forward to hearing her perform. There was another reason why I was looking forward to the party: the whole thing was my idea. I'd explained what I was thinking to both Ledomir and the Wolf, and I'd even loaned them the money to hire the elven bard.

Such units, they are called Wanderers, their strength continues to grow with each Transition…. - Their?! The sorceress called YOU a Wanderer! Vic exclaimed. “Yes, I did,” Matzher agreed easily. - And it just so happened that the Wanderers do not give their blood. Too much power is being transferred. Yarsi let out a short breath. “I understand, that’s why you can’t help me.

“Well, well. What do we have here?“, He said as he moved closer. She jumped to her feet ready to flee. “Young woman, I am not here to harm you. My lord has offered to take you in for the night. Bandits are in these woods at night, and they would not be as kind.“, The vassal said as he had a hand on the hilt of his sword. She could remember the name of that. That was a sword. She looked over the male in front of her. She knew she could run, but he would overtake her in a matter of moments. She inclined her head. As to say thank you. She walked out of the lean-to and closer to the vassal. She was slow in her movements. She looked at his clothes as he looked over hers. His eyes widened as he ha