A dyed green poster fluttered on the road to Cyrene:

A TASTE OF
BAGWAR'S COPSE
COMES TO
CYRENE

Come party with the Bardds!

VOTE CATELARIA
for Ty Beirdd Soloist!

2 Miraman 653
Ty Beirdd Performance Hall
FIRST 25 ATTENDEES RECEIVE A FREE GIFT


Finally! The brawny sailor breathed a sigh of relief. Even the chops at the edge of the world were a cinch compared to finding Cyrene beyond all these blasted mountains. If only there were ships that could sail right through the air and drop him splat down into the middle of the city.

Nothing for it now, though. Barely a month to go until the Grand Finale concert at the Beirdd hall.

A suspicion remained that this was some massive practical joke, fished up by the last captain he'd disobeyed. Him? A singer? Only to the tortoises in the sea and gulls in the air above Zanzibaar! A quest to find a soloist to perform in Cyrene sounded like a fool's errand.

Still. That Phelia Traseran had been so earnest, and not at all annoying for a landlubber. It was hard to say no to her hopeful lavender eyes.

Rumours had made their way to port of Ty Beirdd auditioning everyone from Trixy in Mysia to one of the Great Mhunna's bodyguards. They said that Assai Anemides had found a native in Shala-Khulia with more than a passing sense of rhythm, and Tiglia from Bagwar's Copse, now styling herself as Catelaria, had been discovered by Madelyne Jinx-Ech'lir. Tough competition for a sailor.

Nothing for it now - he'd come this far. Better practice the song Ty Beirdd wrote for him once more before he arrived in Cyrene. It would be more than his ego could take to forget his words in front of the Provost, Perl de Feura. He was coming to win. Fame. So close...could he really do it?

"I'd made my life on Zanzibaar, where tigers prowl the night.
Where palm trees kiss the sea of stars, and a man can test his might.
I've served on many ships as crew,
And as the captain's strong right hand.
But sure as fish have fins, I knew! I've got to be...be my own man!
I'll be the captain of my fate, with a ship to call my own.
With strength of heart as my first mate, it's time I'm leaving...
I'm leaving home.

I'll miss my island's fruit and spice, and towering rubber trees.
But I know that leaving is the price, when adventure's overseas.
So bring on mountain snow and cold, and blinding blizzards too.
I've heard her name and now I'm sold - Cyrene, I'm meant for you!
Yes, I'm the captain of my fate, with a place to call my own
With stout respect as my first mate, Cyrene will be my...
She'll be my home.

I've heard your rum can kick and burn, and Celia can entrance
And moonlit strolls upon Lake Muurn are perfect for romance.
But most of all the songs you sing, your devotion to the Arts!
Your inspiration is why, Cyrene, you're closest to my heart.
I'll harbour happy in your gates, with a House to call my own.
With all the Beirdd as my first mates, I know I'm coming...
I said Ty Beirdd, I'm heading...
Hey Cyrene, you ready?
I'm coming home!"

Penned by My hand on the 6th of Lupar, in the year 653 AF.