As she came down the steps into the tavern, the noise of conversation, food and drink orders, dropped in volume with each step downward. By the last step, when Lorelei could actually gaze upon the crowd, every dirty, bearded, scarred face was turned toward her, with the exception of the blind musician at the far end of the low-ceilinged room.

“Hello boys, is it just me or haven’t you seen a woman recently?”, Lorelei’s melodious tones seemed to ring in the absolute silence; not even the scrape of a chair or unsuppressed belch.

“Minstrel!, Do you know the song of the lorelei who lure sailors to their doom? A silver piece if you know the old song, a gold piece if you have a new one!”

The musician’s affirmative reply could barely be heard over the rising sound of voices. “A gold piece for a song!” Afterall, one gold piece was a good month’s wage for a working man, sailor or not.

Lorelei had barely turned to the stunned barkeep to order when a not-unexpected hand was placed on her shoulder.

“You need a man”