When the Heavens Took Up the Quill: Liz Auvreen Doth Set Mur County Center Aflam

By Eleawen Galathiel

« The wind doth carry men’s lies, yet the forest doth whisper truth » – and upon this night, ’twas a guitar that did howl mine own. Upon the 26th of September, Mur County Center was no mere seated arena, but a sanctuary of riffs and wings. Thither did mine humble self slip, ivory quill in hand, ready to judge… and Erevan did teach me once more to judge aslant – with a smile.

Upon the stage: Liz Auvreen, bard of fire and stars, whose guitar doth spring into being with a snap of her fingers – a trick many a Durakiss rogue would envy, forsooth. Five songs, five tempests.

She did open with « Celestial Dominion », electric guitar aflame in very truth, flames licking the neck, wings beating the air. Then came « Astral Oathbreaker », an anthem of rebellion against the « thrones of silver flame » – let us be honest, mine heart doth praise any crown that trembleth. Then drew she from a bag of holding a runic lute with strings aglow, and murmured « The Eternal Voyager » – such sweetness of shadow and light that the rain did invite itself in, discreet as a Port Saban tax-collector.

Ah, the rain! Three masters of weather within the crowd, king and queen amongst them, and none did think to shut the heavens – Illiana Nehra did laugh full heartily, sheltering her companions beneath her wings. ‘Twas Leslie Flows, most dignified, who did settle the matter: « Lomidar hath e-extensive experience of rain. » Queen Jula did propose straightway a Temple of Rain – mark the idea, good readers, for it deserveth a subscription.

Yet the summit was « Starfire Bardess » – her own life in song, did Liz confess with impish grin, whereupon Her Majesty did cry « Naughty! », ringing most royally. The bard did dance, did fly above the crowd, and e’en Jackal the kitsune – two tails beating time like a metronome of embers – did let fall a most sincere « Holy shit » of wonder, ere demanding a « Second Encore », a notion forged by Leslie Flows and approved by the greedy hobbitses of the front row. The finale, « Iron Tempest », did set all heads a-banging: Rickul, Sabrina Valentine, Tia Nehra, Azaerysh – all upon their feet. « The storm… remembereth my name! » did cry Liz. So do we, fair one. So do we.

When three kings of rain forget to close the heavens, ’tis because a song is worth more than clear weather: Erevan’s jest doth wet the shoulders, yet ’tis the soul that stayeth dry – and singeth.