Mother,
I am sure you won't get this message
As you were never good at keeping up with Sapience happenings
But something told me to try tonight

I am ninteen years old now
A proud citizen of The Shadow Court
Under the guiding eye of Lord Twilight

No, I did not join the cult of Beastlords
And I am not someone's singing servant
But I did make a name for myself...

It may not be etched in stone
Nor carved in blood and battle
Nor am I swimming in wealth
I bring joy to people's lives through song
My Voice is in sync with my Rapier on the field
And I dance better than before!

I wander the Lands for inspiration and rehersal
My movement's in rhythm with my own tunes
And my enemies fall to the floor!

And so I may not be the Flamefang father wanted
The Xorani who dances and sings
To her own drum...

But you were wrong about the Bard life, Mother
I wouldn't trade it for the World...
Now I have a lute to strum

Be well. I think of you often...

Penned by my hand on the 12th of Glacian, in the year 751 AF.