The tall man kept strumming his lute and suddenly started singing in a clear voice. He sang a song from times long past, of the the heroes of his youth, the Grand Conclaves of Mages and their wars against Dragon Kings long since forgotten by those not well vested in the bardic lore. He sang of heroics and tragedies, keeping the speed and tune of the songs fast and positive. His fingers danced on the strings of the lute with the skill of a man who had dedicated a very long time of his considerable lifetime practicing his craft.

Martel walked around the bar with a confident saunter, a spring to his step as he played and sang. A good natured, warm smile on his lips as he went from the heroic and tragic songs to a fun drinking song about a farmer and his pig - The song was admittedly quite bawdy and rather explicit in it's wording, but it was all in good fun.