There is a mer in town who has the titles of Bard and Dibellan, but he does not accept commissions for his songs. And while he visits Dibella's shrine for hours and mentors young artists new to Her worship, he does not practice the arts Dibellans are most known for. Refuses offers, even, from anyone who scrounges up the courage to ask. He wears dark clothing, and always carries a lute on his back.

Sometimes he can be found busking on a corner, playing songs on that battered lute that made you think of high vaulted ceilings and golden summers, songs that make you smile. 

When it rains, he plays tunes that make you weep, instead. When he sings on these days, it's always about love. There are gossips who think he's star crossed with someone he can't have, and when he overhears them, the smile he wears looks painful.

As it happens, the mer has children old enough to have children of their own. They're a motley bunch, and not a one of them has Bosmer blood that anyone can see, but they love him dearly. They visit him every few months, and it's the only time you can remember him laughing honestly. When questioned, only one of them gives a straight answer. 

He is a widower, and in mourning. Has been for these past fifty years. The humans in town marvel at that- surely he doesn't need to mourn that long? Oughtn't five, maybe ten years be long enough for anyone? The mer, though, only nod.