Author's Notes: I am absolutely certain that Cadwell's musical repertoire is much more than could possibly be displayed considering the limitations of online gaming and computing.
Standard disclaimer: I do not own any of the wondrous creations of Bethesda Softworks or Zenimax Online, however I certainly lay claim to misspellings, mistakes, tweaks, spells and characters of my own invention.
Credits: the poem 'The Jumblies' is currently in the public domain, but was originally written by Edward Lear. Check it out – and read it aloud to your favorite 5-year old.
~~Warming By The Fire~~
Tabinah Faryon and Durakh gra-Sharn slowly approached the irregular group gathered around the aged looking lute-player. Few of them showed much reaction to his song, but he nodded his head as cheerfully as if the scattered applause was a hearty accolade.
This close, they could see that the erstwhile bard was wearing the same sort of homespun that most had on and was wearing a three legged cooking pot as a helm. He was holding a short-necked lute.
"Well, I've hardly begun to demonstrate my versatility. How about a rousing tale of exploration and adventure, what?" He bent over the lute again and strummed a sprightly tune. His voice was rough, but merry as he sang:
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
Pausing in the lyrics, he kept strumming as he looked about at the assembled audience. "Now catchy, what? So when the chorus comes round again, join in!"
Durakh frowned slightly. "Jumblies?"
They went to sea in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they went to sea:
In spite of all their friends could say,
On a winter's morn, on a stormy day,
In a Sieve they went to sea!
And when the Sieve turned round and round,
And every one cried, "You'll all be drowned!"
They called aloud, "Our Sieve ain't big,
But we don't care a button! We don't care a fig!
In a Sieve we'll go to sea!"
He gestured with the neck of the lute, and began the chorus. A few hesitant voices joined in.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
Tabinah was looking closely at the assembled listeners. She murmured quietly. "I don't think these are fading quite the way those Soul Shriven at the camps did."
The orisimer nodded. "You may be right. He feeds them with song, and they feed him with attention. Perhaps being alone here is the greatest danger."
Near the bench upon which the lute player rested, there was a chair, and sitting on it, a small instrument that Tabinah did not recognize. It looked like a drum head, but round the edges were small metallic plates. As she considered what it might be, a chunky looking small creature that looked like a mini version of a very overweight cliff racer hopped onto the chair. With a stubby looking beak, it poked at the drumhead.
There came a jangling sound as many of the little metallic plates shifted. Apparently they were only held loosely in place.
The lute player paused in his singing and softly strummed a few chords. "Excellent suggestion my good friend Honor. A bit of accompaniment on Pandeiro would be just the thing!" He looked around to the assembled listeners, as if gauging who to choose.
Durakh stepped forward. "Can you teach me to play such a thing?"
Tabinah blinked in surprise. The orisimer certainly did not waste time.
"Ah, a new student of the musical arts, is it? Well, I say it's quite the beginner's instrument, a delight to learn. You'll see a grip on one side, just pick it up and shake in time to the music. Honor is more into the percussive aspects of playing, but I rather suspect that is because he has no hands."
Durakh picked it up. Tabinah could see that there were small openings round the ridge where the pairs of metal disks had been inset, and one wider space clearly meant as a handgrip. The orisimer gave it a long shake and the disks jangled quite loudly. If someone had crossed wind chimes and over-enthusiastic drumming, this would be the result.
"Off we go!" The lute player spun into another verse.
They sailed in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they sailed so fast,
With only a beautiful pea-green veil
Tied with a ribbon by way of a sail,
To a small tobacco-pipe mast;
And every one said, who saw them go,"
0 won't they be soon upset, you know!
For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long,
And happen what may, it's extremely wrong
In a Sieve to sail so fast!"
At the end of verse the lute player gestured with his instrument to those nearby. Taking the hint, Tabinah started clapping rhythmically, doing her best to recall and sing along with the strange lyrics. Durakh alternated between shaking the Pandeiro and holding it out so that Honor, who was still perched on the chair, could reach over and give the thing a hard peck that sounded sharply on the drumhead.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
The song had more verses than Tabinah had expected, and each was more obscure than the last. She'd never heard of owls, or cranberry tarts or stilton cheese, and she wondered if just possibly he was making up verses and imaginary things on the spot. Although if he was, that probably boded well for his continued survival in this strange place.
The applause was louder this time, but still faded quickly.
Durakh was the first to step forward. "We seek a way out of this place; a path that will return us to Nirn. Can you help us?"
Caldwell looked surprised. Tabinah presumed that he was startled at the very idea of leaving Coldharbor, but his first words corrected that misunderstanding.
"Well, isn't it just the day for incredible things, what? That blonde half-giant seems to think she's headed back to Nirn, and here you are ready for the same adventure!"
"Half-giant?" Durakh asked.
"Lyssa Titanborn?" Er-Jasleen put in at the same moment.
Caldwell's expression brightened. "So you have met the dear girl, yourself, have you? She does tend to stand out in a crowd. Especially when she starts in with that oversized axe of hers. Thins things out, it does."
Er-Jasleen said. "She was the one who ssuggested the prisson revolt. She sspoke to many, urging us to free our fellowss, to take up armss and fight."
Cadwell nodded genially. "Quite right, nothing like a good revolution to warm the blood – brings out the suicidally heroic in a person."
Honor gave a short noise that was apparently meant as agreement.
Durackh asked. "Can you tell us where she went?"
"Well by all means," Cadwell gestured to what Tabinah had arbitrarily thought of as the eastern part of the river, "She can use all the help she can get. The prisoner she intends to rescue is in a pretty sticky wicket. If you fancy the idea of fighting your way through monsters, traps and possibly a few other things I think you'll enjoy catching up to her. Well, always assuming you survive the journey."
Tabinah's eyes widened. That sounded dangerous. She was aware of Durackh's grin. Danger and Orisimer. They just went together, didn't they? From the way that Durackh hefted her axe, Tabinah suspected the orc was ready to head off instantly.
The dunmer wanted a bit more information first. "You said monsters, traps and other things?" Tabinah said cautiously.
"The higher ranking guards, daedric nobility and whatnot. Difficult chaps at the best of times. They do tend to be a bit more testy than usual after the odd revolution or prison break."
"Wait," Er-Jasleen, held up a taloned hand.
Tabinah noted it looked slightly less, well, withered than when she'd first seen him waving folks along in the prison cell corridor.
"You mean there have been other prison breaks?" The argonian seemed troubled.
Cadwell looked surprised at the question. "Indubitably. Heroic types being what they are, every so often someone escapes, or some such adventure. Combine a few optimists, and it's just a matter of time before they decide that facing off the daedric nobles will be that much more dramatic if there's a riot at the time."
The three former prisoners absorbed this information silently.
Cadwell continued. "Now while there is the odd individual who is naturally heroic, well, that's just not always the case, what? So most of the prisoners, once free aren't looking for battle. They just want to settle down. And this is a lovely place, so of course some of them settle here." He waved his hand to indicate the various tents and campsites where the soul-shriven silently stood.
Er-Jasleen seemed to shrink into himself. "What happens to them?"
The odd knight shrugged. "Well, a life lived just trying to avoid trouble – that's no life at all, really." He nodded to one of the members of his audience, who stood silently immobile.
Tabinah felt cold settle into her belly. Just a little bit ago, she was sure that individual had been applauding. A little, anyway.
Cadwells said. "When you can't appreciate the joys of life, can't take in the beauty around you, can't relish the occasional spot of gallant questing, well then you just fade away. Happens a bit faster here is all."
Durackh hefted her axe. "Well then I say let's move.
Cadwell strung a few bars of a rousing march on his lute. "Excellent! And if by chance you do survive, do stop by and tell me how it went, what? I sense the making of quite the heroic tale!"