Songs by Isolde Garibaldi



  • The bard Isolde Garibaldi, more well known as a novelist, puts on a rare string of performances in various inns and drinking holes from Peltarch in the north to Norwick, Mavalgard and Kront in the south. She performs alone with her yarting, encouraging whatever audience she gathers to spread it on rather than tip the performer. Should anyone still insist, any coin gathered goes straight back to the crowd and another round. The song is always the same, performed with distinct conviction and underneath it, a simmering rage:

    The Ballad of Frobrook

    Shall I sing to you, of Frobrook, the lost?
    Of hardworking people, who all payed the cost
    For the ambition of one Leslie Fim
    The leader of bandits, would-be brigand king

    Rallying forces, protecting the weak
    So goes the story our bandits would speak
    But I have seen children who ne’er shall feel
    The sun on their faces, nor anything real

    Dead in a ditch lie the villagers all
    Mothers and fathers, the young and the old
    Outside the village, discarded like trash
    To make room for Fim’s new favoured cast

    ”Come all ye homeless, find shelter and food
    We will provide”, claims this merciless brood
    Who would deal death, sew destruction and spite
    Only to claim they’re who can set it right

    ”You need but pay us what’s rightfully ours”
    That is the claim behind this tragic farce
    Pay for their "service" in sacking the Jewel
    Pay for protection, in lumber and fuel

    Frobrook was peopled, with promise and threat
    Serfdom disguised behind free housing let
    Should anyone question, or make known the cost
    They’re just as expendable as those first lost

    Frobrook is burning, in rubble and ruins
    Who set the fires? Why it’s Fim’s own doings
    Theirs were the blades and theirs were the arrows
    That put the people ~again~ to the barrows

    A handful still live, to speak this grim tale
    A minstrel was there, and to no avail
    She sought to find some small glimmer of light
    Some small little mercy, but no, only blight

    ’Round Kront they will say these folks are protection
    But I’m here to tell you that lie needs detection!
    Now, let us call them by names they deserve
    Cutthroats and killers, robbers and worse



  • Isolde sits with her yarting on her lap, strumming and tuning it with little plinks as she looks out onto the audience of this inn or that, somewhere in the Nars region. She smiles and begins in a conversational, easy tone, while the notes from her yarting slowly begin to form a gentle, uplifting melody:

    "You know… I often get told I view life through rose-tinted glasses. Typically by bitter people calling themselves realists, and me hopelessly naive. In the past I'd get quite in a huff at that sort of thing, but these days I feel kind of sorry for the accusing party. I've concluded it's them that need their eyesight checked, and so, in the spirit of generosity, I wrote this little number. I call it...

    Garibaldi's Glasses

    Let me lend you my glasses
    Won’t you see through my eyes?
    Do you want to trade places,
    In the view of my town?

    Here, her voice grows gruffer and in a little parody of certain other songs circulating, she sings:

    Peltarch, the quaint little town in the north
    Peltarch, where pigs slurp from the trough
    Peltarch, steeped with lies and oppression
    Peltarch, the ramshackle fort falling down

    She pauses, gives a wry smile to the audience before beginning anew:

    Let me lend you my glasses
    Won’t you see through my eyes?
    Do you want to trade places,
    In the view of my town?

    Where you see pompous rulers,
    where you see inept guards,
    My gaze falls to people,
    that are all trying hard:

    I see idealistic bards,
    in their blue Cerulean garb
    Serve the city and the crown,
    though they have a different mind

    I see fishermen and bakers,
    clerks, stonemasons, Wavebreakers,
    Toiling on and starting over,
    building up!

    She pauses to raise her free hand, inviting the audience to chant along with her:

    ~New and Improved!~

    I see children playing games,
    romance blossoming again
    Life springs up amidst the ashes,
    of the blows that fate may lash us

    This is my town – do you see what I see?

    Peltarch, it’s the Jewel for refusing to break!
    Peltarch, where we fall and get up again
    Peltarch, spiced with intrigue, with history, mystery
    Peltarch, where my stories are grown

    This is my world – do you see what I see?

    I see wants and dreams collide,
    But people living side by side
    Yes, we argue, scheme and bicker,
    but in the end there’s something’s thicker

    Bonds of friendship, love of home,
    common decency alone
    Understanding, compromise,
    Not just ruin, fight and flight

    Please, won’t you try?

    Won’t you see what I see?
    See the stars and not the void
    Let people surprise you!
    There is wonders yet untold

    There’s kindness everywhere,
    Hands held out you could have shook
    Is it hiding in plain sight for you,
    Is it simply overlooked?

    ~Dare to hope!~

    Is disappointment so bad that you’d rather stay mad?

    ~Learn to trust!~

    That a hug is worth giving and it will trump a fight.

    ~Look for the light!~

    If you see but a glimmer, I got this song right."