Original Submissions of type 'Songs'

  • Tilted Stool, The by Narffle
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Sung by Kune, of House Kadius.


    Sung by Kune, of House Kadius

    Der's a spot in the bar dat's real special ta me, 'cause it's got me more action than my paysack, see...
    ...I dunno how it makes da ladies think in dat way, but it keeps all comin' an' I don't gotta pay...

    O' - it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
    Ya give it a sit an' women come from afar,
    Dey don't wanna talk about try'n der luck,
    Dey just wanna take ya home an' give ya a...

    Well..now...

    ...me'n mah friend walked inta dis place, a purty woman 'cross da way with a real nice face,
    Mah friend says, "I got da drinks, 'cause I seen her first", but I knew a better angle than da quench her thirst...

    O' - it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
    Ya give it a sit an' women come from afar,
    Dey don't wanna talk about try'n der luck,
    Dey just wanna take ya home an' give ya a...

    Well...now...

    ...dis shapely young lass was slummin' from uptown, scannin' o'er da crowd with a big ole' frown,
    We started ta talk, but it wasn't quite fair, der's just somethin' about dat lucky old chair...

    O' - it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
    Ya give it a sit an' women come from afar,
    Dey don't wanna talk about try'n der luck,
    Dey just wanna take ya home an' give ya a...

    Well...now...

    ...one night this old hag stumbled in all late, not enough teeth, but plenty'a weight,
    ...a fella next ta me scooted down toward the end, so I got up an' said "Ya can have MY seat, friend!"

    O' it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
    Ya give it a sit, doubt she can see dat far,
    Nah, I don't mind neighbor, you can sit right here,
    Gonna get me some sleep, but you should start on the beer.

    'Cause it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
    Da women see ya sittin' der, dey don't care who ya are,
    Now every now an' den I gotta give up mah seat,
    but it sure beats dodgin' them on my feet.
    Sung by Kune, of House Kadius


    Der's a spot in the bar dat's real special ta me, 'cause it's got me more action than my paysack, see...

    ...I dunno how it makes da ladies think in dat way, but it keeps all comin' an' I don't gotta pay...


    O' - it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,

    Ya give...
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  • Three Drunk Half-Giants by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Story of three drunk half giants, writted by the bard Kelinna Hessa.


    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa

    Some friends and I in a common room
    . . . Was playing Spice Run one night
    When into the bar a commoner ran
    . . . His face all a chalky white.
    "What's up", says Mruk, "Have you got me Egg?
    . . . Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
    Me Aunt Mariah be Krath'd!", says he,
    . . . "The fekkin' bar's on fire!"
    And there was Mruk upside down
    . . . Lappin' up the whiskey on the floor.
    "Booze, booze!" The commoner cried
    . . . As they came knockin' on the door

    (claps twice loudly)

    Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
    . . . And somebody shouted Dwire! DWIRE!
    And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
    . . . When the Old Grey Kank caught fire.
    "Oh well," says Mruk, "What a bit of luck
    . . . . Everybody follow me.
    And it's down to the cellar
    . . . If the fire's not there
    . . . Then we'll have a grand old spree."
    So we went on down after good old Mruk
    . . . The booze we could not miss
    And we hadn't been there any bit of time
    . . . Till we were quite pissed.
    Then, Ogan walked over to a wine barrel
    . . . And gave it just a few hard knocks

    (claps twice loudly)

    Started takin' off his old brown pants
    . . . Likewise his shoes and socks.
    "Hold on, " says Mruk, "that ain't allowed
    . . . Ya cannot do that thing here.
    Don't go washin' clothes in the wine barrel
    . . . When we got naki beer."

    Then there came from the old back door
    . . . A local Serjeant of the land
    And when he saw our drunken ways,
    . . . He began to scream and curse.
    "Ah, you drunken sods! You Krath'n clods!
    . . . You've taken to a drunken spree!
    You drank up all the fine wine
    . . . And you didn't save a drop for me!"

    And then there came a mighty crash
    . . . Half the tavern roof caved in.
    We were almost covered by all the sand
    . . . But still we were gonna stay.
    So we got some tacks and some old sand sacks
    . . . And we nailed ourselves inside
    nd we sat drinking the finest mead
    . . . Till we were bleary-eyed.

    Later that night, when the fire was out
    . . . We came up from the cellar below.
    Our bar was burned. Our booze was drunk
    . . . . Our heads was hanging low.
    "Oh look", says Mruk with a look quite queer
    . . . . Seems something raised his ire.
    "Now we gotta get down to Kurac Bar,
    . . . I need some Spice to get higher!"
    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa


    Some friends and I in a common room

    . . . Was playing Spice Run one night

    When into the bar a commoner ran

    . . . His face all a chalky white.

    "What's up", says Mruk, "Have you got me Egg?

    . . . Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"

    Me Aunt Mariah be Krath'd!",...
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  • Stay A Little While Yet by Morninglight
    Added on May 2, 2005

    A lover requests of their lover to not leave yet.


    Crimson streaks the night-dark sky,
    And dawn has come much too nigh.
    The city begins to stir and wake,
    And my arms you must forsake.
    Stay a little while yet, love,
    Till the sun is high above.
    It will be long ere we meet,
    So stay here a while, my sweet.

    Let your day's work bide a bit,
    While my lamp's still brightly lit.
    My bed's soft, your arms are tight,
    Surely it can still be night.
    Stay a little while yet, love,
    Till the sun is high above.
    For many days we must part,
    Give this morning a late start.
    Crimson streaks the night-dark sky,

    And dawn has come much too nigh.

    The city begins to stir and wake,

    And my arms you must forsake.

    Stay a little while yet, love,

    Till the sun is high above.

    It will be long ere we meet,

    So stay here a while, my sweet.


    Let your day's work bide a bit,

    While my...
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  • Salarr Sword Song by Barzalene
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Thanna Salarr paid to have this sung every tenday for a month as an advertisement.


    They all come to Nak,
     When they want to buy a sword.
    They go to Salarr,
     They go to Salarr.

    They all come through Nak,
     When they're on their way to war.
     They go to Salarr,
     They go to Salarr.

    Everyone know my baby,
     Got the best blade in town.
    Everyone knows Salarr man,
     Got the sharpest blade around.
    They all come to Nak,

     When they want to buy a sword.

    They go to Salarr,

     They go to Salarr.


    They all come through Nak,

     When they're on their way to war.

     They go to Salarr,

     They go to Salarr.


    Everyone know my baby,

     Got the best blade in town.

    Everyone knows Salarr man,

     Got the sharpest...
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  • Runner Song, The by Barzalene
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Purchased by a T'zai Byn Sergeant.


    The best day of the week is Nekrete
     If you don't mind all day on your feet
    As you shovel latrines
    Until they are clean
     Then it's back to the Gaj for a drink

    But I'm drink with the runners again
     Yes, I'm drunk with the runners again
     On a new contract bid
     We all made some sid
     And I'm drunk with the runners again

    I'm sitting back at the bar
    With pride for the Byn in my heart
     We hunted and rode
     And we fought till we won
    Then we all headed back to the Gaj

     But I'm drink with the runners again
    Yes, I'm drunk with the runners again
    On a new contract bid
     We all made some sid
     And I'm drunk with the runners again
    The best day of the week is Nekrete

     If you don't mind all day on your feet

    As you shovel latrines

    Until they are clean

     Then it's back to the Gaj for a drink


    But I'm drink with the runners again

     Yes, I'm drunk with the runners again

     On a new contract bid

     We all made some sid

     And I'm drunk...
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  • Pair of Brown Eyes, A by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa.


    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa

    One summer evening drunk for a spell
    . . . I sat there nearly lifeless.
    And old man in the corner sang
    . . . about where the wood reeds grow.
    And on strummer a fella sang
    . . . about a thing called love.
    And it's how you are kid
    . . . and what's your name
    . . . . And how would you bloody know.
    In blood and death 'neath
    . . . a screaming sky
    . . . I lay down on the ground.
    And the arms and legs of other men
    . . . were scattered all around.
    Some cursed some way'd,
    . . . some way'd then cursed.
    Then way'd then bled some more.
    And the only thing that I could see
    . . . was a pair of brown eyes
    . . . that was looking at me.
    But when we got back
    . . . onna parts one to three
    . . . there was no pair of brown eyes
    . . . waiting for me.
    And a rovin' a rovin' a rovin' I'll go
    . . . for a pair of brown eyes.
    I looked at him he looked at me
    . . . all I could do was hate him.
    While May and Philomena sang
    . . . of my elusive dreams.
    I saw the desert, the rolling dune where
    . . . his brown eyes were waiting.
    And I thought about
    . . . a pair of brown eyes
    . . . that waited once for me.
    So drunk for a spell I left the place
    . . . sometimes crawling, sometimes walking.
    A hungry sound came across the breeze
    . . . so I gave the walls a talking.
    And I heard the sounds of long ago
    . . . from the old well.
    And the birds were whistling
    . . . in the trees
    . . . Where Whira was gently laughing.
    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa


    One summer evening drunk for a spell

    . . . I sat there nearly lifeless.

    And old man in the corner sang

    . . . about where the wood reeds grow.

    And on strummer a fella sang

    . . . about a thing called love.

    And it's how you are kid

    . . . and what's your name

    ....
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  • Ol' Callis by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a dwarven tale as first told by Kragendar Stonebelly.


    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a dwarven tale as first told by Kragendar Stonebelly.

    Ol' Callis was a pikeman, pikeman, pikeman
    . . . Work'd Stormways many years ago
    At Upwards Gate or so it's said
    . . . Watching strange folks walk to and fro

    Ol' Callis was a guardin', guardin', guardin'
    . . . On Drov's watch, a dead-late shift
    A banging on the gate he hears
    . . . By a figure not moving too swift

    Ol' Callis did some thinkin', thinkin', thinkin'
    . . . That night he'd do a good deed.
    Opens the side-door for an ol' hag
    . . . His orders he did not heed.

    Ol' Callis was a watchin', watchin', watchin'
    . . . The ol' crone tore end to end
    A silt-flyer had attacked her
    . . . For his aid he'd made a friend

    Ol' Callis was a listenin', listenin', listenin'
    . . . As the woman did impart
    Ask him to find her sister
    . . . With a gift box he did depart

    Ol' Callis went a deliverin', deliverin', deliverin'
    . . . With five hundred coins in his hand
    He oath'd to keep the box shut
    . . . It was the crone's only demand

    Ol' Callis wandered homeways, homeways, homeways
    . . . Fell asleep without his wife
    She opened the gift box to find
    . . . Men's parts severed by a knife.

    Ol' Callis was a frettin', frettin', frettin'
    . . . Skipped work that afternoon
    Went to the Tavern of The Eye
    . . . His task he'd finish soon.

    Ol' Callis went a wanderin', wanderin', wanderin'
    . . . The crone's sister he did find
    She saw the box's seal broke
    . . . Though old she was not blind

    Ol' Callis left a runnin', runnin', runnin'
    . . . He knew'd he had been bad
    She scream'd and hollor'd curses
    . . . The sister she was quite mad

    Ol' Callis was a itchin', itchin', itchin'
    . . . His manly parts he could not feel
    It turn'd all black and fell off
    . . . Now Ol' Callis speaks with a squeal
    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a dwarven tale as first told by Kragendar Stonebelly.


    Ol' Callis was a pikeman, pikeman, pikeman

    . . . Work'd Stormways many years ago

    At Upwards Gate or so it's said

    . . . Watching strange folks walk to and fro


    Ol' Callis was a guardin', guardin',...
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  • Message from the Old North Road, A by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Slightly modified version of the song by the bard Kelinna Hessa.


    Written by the bard Kelinna Hessa

    Was there ever a message sweeter . . . Than that one from the Old North Road,
    >From a grim old fellow, you remember? . . . Dying in the dark on the Old North Road.
    With his rough face turned a little, . . . On, a heap of scarlet sand,
    They found him, just within the scrub, . . . With a drawing in his hand,

    With a stained and crumpled drawing . . . Of a woman's aged face;
    Yet there seemed to leap a wild entreaty, . . . Young and living-tender-from the face
    When they flashed the lantern on it, . . . Gilding all the purple shade,
    And stooped to raise him softly, . . . That's my mother, sir," he said.

    "Tell her"-but he wandered, slipping . . . Into tangled words and cries,
    Something about Kalb and Kockre, . . . Something dropping through the cries
    About the songbird by the fire, . . . And mother's ginka-pies; and there
    The words fell, and an utter . . . Silence brooded in the air.

    Just as he was drifting from them, . . . Out into the dark, alone
    Poor old mother, waiting for your message, . . . Waiting with the songbird, all alone.
    Through the hush his voice broke, "Tell her . . . Thank you, Physician - when you can,
    Tell her that I kissed her drawing, . . . And wished I'd been a better man."

    Ah, I wonder if the red feet . . . Of departed battle-hours
    May not leave for us their searching . . . Message from those distant hours.
    Sisters, daughters, mothers, think you, . . . Would your heroes now or then,
    Dying, kiss your hand-drawn faces, . . . Wishing they'd been better men?
    Written by the bard Kelinna Hessa


    Was there ever a message sweeter . . . Than that one from the Old North Road,


    From a grim old fellow, you remember? . . . Dying in the dark on the Old

    North Road.

    With his rough face turned a little, . . . On, a heap of scarlet sand,

    They found him, just...
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  • Mah Trusty Old Boot by Narffle
    Added on May 2, 2005

    A man's boot takes him places.


    I always walk with a limp 'cause I'm always missin'...
    ...mah trusty old boot and I'm always wishin'...
    That I could somehow keep it on my feet!

    Cause it's always droppin' in the worst places...
    ...fallin' whenever I take up my races...
    ...and it always gets me in a lotta heat.

    Y'see there was a time when I went out wenchin'...
    Had a fine girl, but her fingers weren't wrenchin'...
    Her brothers came runnin' - she was screamin' out her mind!

    So I ducked 'round a corner and we started off a runnin'...
    Dodgin' all the slants - 'cause it was us they was a'huntin'...
    ...when I had a strange feelin' I'd left somethin' behind!

    It...was...mah...trusty old boot with a big, bone buckle...
    ...smooth black leather, always gave me good luckle...
    ...I don't know a better pair e'er did be...

    OH...it was mah trusty old boot with da thick, gray laces...
    ...always got me outta bad places...
    ...I just don't know what made it turn on me!

    Der was this other time, when da templars were askin'
    ...bout some assassin who'd killed ole' man Baskin...
    I swore up an' down that we'd just bought us a fresh pie!

    But there was somethin' left that got them a'thinkin'...
    ...that I might look like a thug who'd been a'drinkin'...
    ...an' I know just what they found to think I'd lie!

    It...was...mah...trusty old boot with a big, bone buckle...
    ...smooth black leather, always gave me good luckle...
    ...I don't know a better pair e'er did be...

    OH...it was mah trusty old boot with da thick, gray laces...
    ...always got me outta bad places...
    ...I just don't know what made it turn on me!

    So once I was doin' some chores for a man in a field,
    mighty hot day, but a damn good yield,
    had a young daughter, pretty as a woman could be!

    Well, we were headed on home from a hard days workin'...
    ...but somethin' in the back'a mah head was a lurkin'...
    ...and I saw da farmer walkin' with his daughter toward me!

    He said he found a nice boot with a big, bone buckle...
    smooth black leather, all clean and no muckle...
    Found 'dis boot with his daughter and a bottle'a wine!

    He said, "It's a good old boot with some thick, gray laces..."
    ..."Mah daughter'll marry who's foot it paces..."
    I said, "Well, sir, in that case - it looks like MINE!"

    It...was...mah...trusty old boot with a big, bone buckle...
    ...smooth black leather, always gave me good luckle...
    ...I don't know a better pair e'er did be...

    OH...it was mah trusty old boot with da thick, gray laces...
    ...always got me outta bad places...
    ...but every once an' awhile it let me be!
    I always walk with a limp 'cause I'm always missin'...

    ...mah trusty old boot and I'm always wishin'...

    That I could somehow keep it on my feet!


    Cause it's always droppin' in the worst places...

    ...fallin' whenever I take up my races...

    ...and it always gets me in a lotta heat.


    Y'see there was...
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  • Lookin' Fer My Love by Narffle
    Added on May 2, 2005

    A man goes to town looking for love.


    O - 'round the hills and 'round the sands, I searched for a lovely young lady's hand...
    ...grabbed my sword and I grabbed my kank, emptied my bladder and I emptied my bank.

    So out I rode inta the deep dark sands, with borrowed boots and indebted hands...
    looking for a woman who'd take me in, or at least to a bar or a decent inn.

    I came to the first town, walls quite high, women in their teens showin' me a little thigh...
    ...rode on into town and tethered my beast, I was lookin' mighty sharp - I'd say at least!

    So I found me a girl they called Big Ole' Beth - with a chin full'a hair and a dragon's breath!
    She wasn't too bad, if you liked 'em hairy - but not the kinda girl you'd -choose- ta marry.

    (whispered to the crowd) If ya know what I mean.

    So I tracked down a woman called Screamin' Sue, with a name like that she'd surely do!
    If wasn't 'till after we'd knocked the boots, that it wasn't during sex that she'd let her voice loose!

    (whispered to the crowd) If ya know what I mean.

    So the next day I saw Smoooooth Careena, had ta blink my eyes ta make sure I'd seen'a!
    But when she laid on down, like a sweet ole' tune - I tried to slip in, but there wasn't quite room!

    (whispered to the crowd) If ya know what I mean.

    So I rode back inta those deep dark sands, forgot my boots and I washed my hands...
    of all them women who'd taken me in, in the bar, in the dark - in the decent inn.

    I finally got home, no money to my name - and I sat by the bar lookin' like a poor shame.
    When a lady walked by and she grabbed my 'broom' - drug me down the old road and into a room.

    She said, "Boy, I never knew when you'd show - I've been waitin' for you ALL day, you know!"
    I said, "You know you're the only one in my life, my love, my heart, my dear old wife!"

    (whispered, with a wink) If ya know what I mean.
    O - 'round the hills and 'round the sands, I searched for a lovely young lady's hand...

    ...grabbed my sword and I grabbed my kank, emptied my bladder and I emptied my bank.


    So out I rode inta the deep dark sands, with borrowed boots and indebted hands...

    looking for a woman who'd take me in, or...
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  • Lookin' Fer a Little Fun' by Narffle
    Added on May 2, 2005

    A man goes into town looking for some fun.


    I rode into town with a terrible frown, I was looking for some fun that night.
    When I saw a few men walking toward a wood pen, they was stablin' down their kanks alright.
    So I said, "Hey man, with the pretty good tan - where ya go ta get a drink 'rond here?"
    And he shifted his feet, thumbed on down the street an' said, "Black Hell Pits has da beer!"

    It was da biggest, baddest place ya e'er seen in yer life! Painted black and lit by the sun.
    There must'a been fifty folks goin' inside - and I figured I'd make fifty-one...

    I pushed open the door, moved over the floor as I made my way on to the bar,
    So many pretty lookin' women that I felt like I was swimmin' - an' it didn't seem ta matter you ya are.
    So I ordered some flame, and the women came - they were pawnin' at me like they knew.
    That I was the best damn lover, fighter, somethin'-of-an-other - this side'a da Gol Krathu...

    It was da biggest, baddest place ya e'er seen in yer life! Ladies moving upstairs with the sun.
    There must'a been fourty fellas goin' upstairs - and I figured I'd make fourty-one...

    Well, I opened da door and a little bit more, I was havin' me a damn good time.
    These girls were workin' the buttons on my jerkin, they were pourin' me a few glasses'a wine.
    An' when bed was shakin' and the boards all quakin' - I heard a big shout down the stairs,
    So I grabbed my clothes, why? who the krath knows - but I raced to join all the stares...

    It was da biggest, baddest place ya e'er seen in yer life! Fellas fightin' like it was all fun.
    There must'a been thirty fellas fightin' downstairs - and I figured I'd make thirty-one...

    Guess I jumped down below and started to go, they were in for a one-man storm!
    So energetic, my gloves were magnetic - punchin' folks 'till they got all worn.
    Den da soldiers came in with a big ole' grin - and they started draggin' folks to the street.
    I got hit in the mouth and went down south, but I managed to keep on mah feet.

    It was da biggest, baddest place ya e'er seen in yer life! Folks streamin' toward the door in a run.
    There must'a been twenty fellas jumpin' through windows - and I figured I'd make twenty-one...

    O - it was da biggest, baddest place ya e'er seen in yer life! Blood flowin' like bottles'a wine!
    That's when I caught a purty lass fleein' da scene, but dat's a whole 'nother story'a mine...
    I rode into town with a terrible frown, I was looking for some fun that night.

    When I saw a few men walking toward a wood pen, they was stablin' down their kanks alright.

    So I said, "Hey man, with the pretty good tan - where ya go ta get a drink 'rond here?"

    And he shifted his feet, thumbed on...
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  • Longshanks Windspear by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a story first told by Kragendar Stonebelly


    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a story first told byKragendar Stonebelly

    They call him K'lek N'gar, Longshanks Windspear,
    No one known here, has caused so much fear,
    And we know K'lek N'gar, lives in a land full of anger,
    Running all around, the dry desert there!

    Everyone detests, that leader of the gith,
    Ever so hateful, he struck Krag forthwith,
    Stabbed him right here, with a jagged spear,
    And pulling clear, Krag's flesh did adhere!

    They call him K'lek N'gar, Longshanks Windspear,
    No one known here, has caused so much fear,
    And we know K'lek N'gar, lives in a land full of anger,
    Running all around, the dry desert there!
    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a story first told byKragendar Stonebelly


    They call him K'lek N'gar, Longshanks Windspear,

    No one known here, has caused so much fear,

    And we know K'lek N'gar, lives in a land full of anger,

    Running all around, the dry desert there!


    Everyone detests,...
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  • Long Black Veil by Bakha
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Based on a traditional folksong.


    Ten years ago, on a cold dark night
    Someone was killed, 'neath Lirathu's light
    There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
    That the slayer who ran, looked a lot like me

    The Templar said son, what is your alibi
    If you were somewhere else, then you won't have to die
    I spoke not a word, though it meant my life
    For I'd been in the arms of my best friend's wife

    Chorus
    She walks these dunes in a long black veil
    She visits my grave when the night winds wail
    Nobody knows, nobody sees
    Nobody knows but me

    Oh, the blade's raised high and eternity's near
    She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
    But late at night, when Whira moans
    In a long black veil, she cries over my bones

    Chorus
    She walks these dunes in a long black veil
    She visits my grave when the night winds wail
    Nobody knows, nobody sees
    Nobody knows but me
    Ten years ago, on a cold dark night

    Someone was killed, 'neath Lirathu's light

    There were few at the scene, but they all agreed

    That the slayer who ran, looked a lot like me


    The Templar said son, what is your alibi

    If you were somewhere else, then you won't have to die

    I spoke not a word,...
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  • Little Party, A by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Kuraci drinking song.


    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa

    Oh, we had a little party down in Red Storm,
    . . . There was Mosert, there was me, and the other fellar made three.

    Oh, we had a little party down in Red Storm,
    . . . And we had to carry Mosert before he was dessert.

    Oh, we had to carry Mosert through the desert,
    . . . And we had to carry him to the Outpost.

    And the reason that we had to carry Mosert through the desert,
    . . . Was that Mosert couldn't carry anymore.

    For Kurac, for Kurac,
    . . .The Post resounds the cry, we're out to do or die.

    For Kurac, for Kurac,
    . . . We'll win the fight or know the reason why.

    And when the fight is over we will buy a bunch of booze,
    . . . And we'll drink to Kurac 'til we wallow in our shoes.

    So drink, tra-la-la
    . . . Drink, drank, drunk last night

    Drunk the night before
    . . . Gonna get drunk tonight like we've never been drunk before

    'Cause when I'm drunk I'm as happy as can be
    . . . For I'm happy I'm a working for the Kurac family

    Oh, the Kurac family is the best family
    . . . That ever that even did see the Silt Sea.

    There's the Salarr and Kadian,
    . . . And just forget the fucken Byn.

    Sing Glorious! Victorious!
    . . . One barrel of beer for the four of us.

    Sing Glory be to Kurac that there ain't no more of us,
    . . . For one of us could drink it all alone,

    Here's to the Kurac. Dead drunk!
    . . . What lucky we to be
    . . . With the Kurac family,

    And a six bottles of booze
    . . . . That we can't refuse!
    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa


    Oh, we had a little party down in Red Storm,

    . . . There was Mosert, there

    was me, and the other fellar made three.


    Oh, we had a little party down in Red Storm,

    . . . And we had to carry Mosert before he was dessert.


    Oh, we had to carry Mosert through the...
    Continue Reading...

  • Knocking Boots by Barzalene
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Traditional Folksong.


    Well, I know my baby love me,
    But sometimes he's got to roam
    Ye-e-e-es,
    I said I know my baby loves me,
    But sometimes he's got to roam.
    Been walking through the desert,
    Going to bring my honey home.

    Walking the desert,
    Got me a new pair boots
    Walking out in the desert,
    Got me a new pair of boots.
    I could walk forever,
    These are walking shoes

    Went to the Kuraci
    Cause I had to get it right.
    I went to the Kuraci,
    Cause I had to get it right
    I'll be walking through the desert
    In the hot harsh old daylight

    Bought a Kurac tent
    Cause my baby got to sleep
    Got a Kurac pack
    Cause my baby got to eat
    Bought a sandcloth duster
    I don't know where he may be
    And I bought these boots
    Soon he'll be knocking boots with me

    Walking the desert,
    Got me a new pair boots
    Walking out in the desert,
    Got me a new pair of boots.
    I could walk forever,
    These are Kuraci shoes
    Well, I know my baby love me,

    But sometimes he's got to roam

    Ye-e-e-es,

    I said I know my baby loves me,

    But sometimes he's got to roam.

    Been walking through the desert,

    Going to bring my honey home.


    Walking the desert,

    Got me a new pair boots

    Walking out in the desert,

    Got me a new pair of...
    Continue Reading...

  • Jug of Mead, A by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Traditonal folksong.


    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa

    One evening on the day of Nekrete . . . As I was sitting resting my feet
    A small bird was restin' on a loreshi reed. . . And the song he sang . . . was "The Jug Of Mead."

    (whistles along with the melody for two bars)

    What more diversion can a lass desire? . . . Than to sit herself down by an alehouse fire
    Upon his knee a man she can need . . . And upon the table a jug of mead.

    (whistles along with the melody for two bars)

    Let the physicians come with all their art . . . They'll make no impression upon my heart
    Even a cripple forgets his plead . . . When he's snug outside of a jug of mead.

    (whistles along with the melody for two bars)

    And if I get drunk, well, me money's me own . . . And them don't like me they can leave me alone
    I'll chune me strummer and I'll rosin me bow . . . And I'll be welcome . . . wherever I go.

    (whistles along with the melody for two bars)

    And when I'm dead and in my grave . . . No costly stones will I crave
    Just lay me down near my sweet . . . With a jug of mead at my head and feet.
    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa


    One evening on the day of Nekrete . . . As I was sitting resting my feet

    A small bird was restin' on a loreshi reed. . . And the song he sang . . .

    was "The Jug Of Mead."


    (whistles along with the melody for two bars)


    What more diversion can a lass desire? . ....
    Continue Reading...

  • If You Want Me by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Two strangers meet and go home together.


    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa

    He sits alone waitin' for suggestions . . . She's so anxious avoidin' all the questions.
    Her lips are dry his heart is racin' . . . Don't you just know 'xactly what they're thinkin'.
    If you want me and you think you're ready . . . come on darlin' let me know.
    If you really need me just reach out and touch me . . . come on darlin' tell me so.
    She's acting shy looking for an answer, . . . Come on darlin', let's spend the night together,
    Now hold on a while, before we go much further, . . . Give me time so I can tell my mother,
    They walk slow to her new apartment, . . . At last she can tell him exactly what her heart meant.

    If you want me and you think you're ready . . . come on darlin' let me know.
    If you really need me just reach out and touch me . . . come on darlin' tell me so.

    Her heart's beating like a drum . . . 'cause at last she's got her lad home Relax darlin' now we are alone . . . Oh.
    They wake at dawn 'cause all the birds are singing, . . . Two total strangers but that ain't what they're thinking.
    Outside it's hot and windy, the sands a storming, . . . They got each other and no one's complaining,
    He says I'm sorry but I'm out of wine and fancy, . . . Never mind darlin' I don't think your chancy.

    If you want me and you think you're ready . . . come on darlin' let me know.
    If you really need me just reach out and touch me . . . come on darlin' tell me so.
    If you really, really, really, really need me . . . just let me know
    If you want me and you think you're ready . . . come on darlin' let me know.
    If you really need me just reach out and touch me . . . come on darlin' tell me so.
    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa


    He sits alone waitin' for suggestions . . . She's so anxious avoidin' all the

    questions.

    Her lips are dry his heart is racin' . . . Don't you just know 'xactly what

    they're thinkin'.

    If you want me and you think you're ready . . . come on darlin' let me know. Continue Reading...

  • Gal Ya Don't Meet every Day, A by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    A female bard asks bystanders to buy her a drink.


    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa

    Oh, my name is Kel Hessa, . . . I'm a canny gal, . . . and roving young lass I've been.
    So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.

    I have no land, I have no men of command, . . . I have never have any coins to spare.
    So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.

    So come fill up my glass with whisky and wine. . . . What ever it costs, You can pay.
    So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.

    Oh, I took up my kank, and him I did lose, . . . all down in the Grey Forest.
    So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.

    So come fill up my glass with whisky and wine. . . . What ever it costs You can pay.
    So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.
    So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.
    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa


    Oh, my name is Kel Hessa, . . . I'm a canny gal, . . . and roving young lass

    I've been.

    So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't

    meet every day.


    I have no land, I have no men of command, . . . I have never have any coins

    to...
    Continue Reading...

  • Finding a Man by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    A woman recalls her finding a man.


    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa

    Through a market, I wandered and strayed
    That I'd find me a man I might have some day.
    Well, I never dreamed when I strayed that way
    That the man I longed for was standing there.

    When he held me in his arms that night,
    I held him close, and I held him tight.
    And I swore that day forth, I'd love him all of me life.
    When he held me in his arms that night.

    He smelled of the sweetest perfumed skin.
    And I admit it now it drew me in
    Oh, his voice charmed me so I could not disobey.
    Every word was a dream that swept me away.

    Oh, the market became a more beautiful place
    The flowers more fragrant, and the clothing all lace.
    And his eyes, oh, his eyes! They begged me to stay
    But alas, after twenty something years later, I don't regret that day.
    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa


    Through a market, I wandered and strayed

    That I'd find me a man I might have some day.

    Well, I never dreamed when I strayed that way

    That the man I longed for was standing there.


    When he held me in his arms that night,

    I held him close, and I held him tight. Continue Reading...

  • Fightin' Man! by Narffle
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Traditional boistering tale of a warrior.


    Sit back in yer chair, grab a big ale - cause yer in fer a treat, a mighty big tale...
    ...the greatest warrior ever to be, a'course you know we're talkin' about me...

    So there I was fightin' one lone 'tok, nuthin' in my hands but a big ole' rock...
    ...swingin' it up and swingin' it down, about ten leagues outta town...

    Oh - this is the tale of a humble man! With a so-so blade, and a slow right hand!
    Runnin o'er the lands chasin' down my fate, drinkin' down a little wine, lookin' for the perfect mate.

    So there I was fightin' two big tembo, my scimitars blazin' an' my legs akimbo...
    ...swingin' it left and swingin' it right, about twelve leagues outta sight...

    Oh - this is the tale of a decent man! With a fair 'nuff blade, and a better right hand!
    Runnin o'er the lands chasin' down my fate, drinkin' down some more wine, lookin' for a pretty mate.

    So there I was fightin' three damn carru, shootin' my bow like a Blacking Heru,
    ...arrows in the thigh, arrows in the chest, about fourteen leagues out toward the west...

    Oh - this is the tale of a fightin' man! With a pretty good blade and good right hand!
    Runnin' o'er the lands chasin' down my fate, drinkin' down a lotta wine, lookin' fer a decent mate.

    So there I was fightin' four black kryl, swingin' down my axe - seekin' out the quick kill!
    ...choppin' all o'er that dity thing's shell, about sixteen leagues from the old town bell...

    Oh - this is the tale of warrior man! With a master's blade and damn fine hand!
    Runnin' o'er the lands chasin' down my fate, drinkin' too much wine, lookin' fer any ole' mate.

    So there I was fightin' a five-headed dragon, nothin' in my hand 'cept a half-full flagon,
    ...sloshin' to the left and sloshin' to rhe right, outdrank that dragon twenty leagues outta sight.

    Oh - this is the tale of hero man! With a legendary blade and a strong right hand!
    Sittin' in the bar, drinkin' down his fate, with his breath like wine, just lookin' fer a date.

    Final Chorus

    Yes - this is the tale of a hero man! With a legendary blade and a strong right hand!
    Drinkin' all day and singin' all night, and this is where the tale ends, all right.
    Sit back in yer chair, grab a big ale - cause yer in fer a treat, a mighty big tale...

    ...the greatest warrior ever to be, a'course you know we're talkin' about me...


    So there I was fightin' one lone 'tok, nuthin' in my hands but a big ole' rock...

    ...swingin' it up and swingin' it down, about...
    Continue Reading...

  • Eyes Like a Duskhorn Doe's by Morninglight
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Traditional love song.


    Chorus:
    The wind may blow high, the wind may blow low,
    The storm may blow wherever it goes,
    But all the better, I'll feel no woe,
    For my love's got eyes like a duskhorn doe's.

    Through the darkest night and the brightest day,
    I could stare forever into your eyes.
    I'd give all my possessions with you to stay,
    I swear to you, my dear, these are no lies.

    Tell me that you feel the same way, my love,
    Else my heart will break and I will perish.
    Tell me that your love's broad as the skies above,
    And that I'm the one that you cherish.

    Dream of me while in bed you are sleeping,
    And I shall do the very same in mine.
    For my love I give into your keeping,
    My sweetheart with the eyes so deep and fine.
    Chorus:

    The wind may blow high, the wind may blow low,

    The storm may blow wherever it goes,

    But all the better, I'll feel no woe,

    For my love's got eyes like a duskhorn doe's.


    Through the darkest night and the brightest day,

    I could stare forever into your eyes.

    I'd give all my possessions...
    Continue Reading...

  • Evil Tregil Song, The by Yang
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Song for children about the evil tregil under their bed.


    Composed by Gwenno Konviwedu

    Three Evil Tregils underneath my bed,
    One came out, said he'd eat my head!
    Momma psied the bard to set her straight:
    "No telling Evil Tregil stories to keep my kids up late!"

    Two Evil Tregils underneath my bed,
    One rose up and looked undead!
    Momma cursed the bard who sang this tune:
    "Ain't nothin' like those tregil in my baby's room.."

    One Evil Tregil underneath my bed.
    Never seen an Evil Tregil like the bard said!
    Momma don't believe in creatures she's never seen.
    Don't prove that Evil Tregils is anythin' but mean, mean, mean!
    Composed by Gwenno Konviwedu


    Three Evil Tregils underneath my bed,

    One came out, said he'd eat my head!

    Momma psied the bard to set her straight:

    "No telling Evil Tregil stories to keep my kids up late!"


    Two Evil Tregils underneath my bed,

    One rose up and looked undead!

    Momma cursed the...
    Continue Reading...

  • Don't Take Your Sword to Town by Bakha
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Based on a traditional folksong, the story of a young boy who goes to town to become a man.


    A young scrubhopper named Gil
    Grew restless on the farm
    A boy filled with wanderlust
    Who really meant no harm
    He changed his clothes and shined his boots
    And combed his dark hair down
    And his mother cried as he walked out;

    "Don't take your sword to town, son
    Leave your sword at home, Gil
    Don't take your sword to town."

    He sang a song as on he rode,
    His sword hung at his hips
    He rode into a spice town,
    A smile upon his lips
    He stopped and walked into a bar and laid his obsidian down
    But his mother's words echoed again;

    Refrain:
    "Don't take your sword to town, son
    Leave your sword at home, Gil
    Don't take your sword to town."

    He smoked his first spice then to calm his shaking hand
    And tried to tell himself at last he had become a man
    A dusty outrider at his side began to laugh him down
    And he heard again his mother's words;

    Refrain:
    "Don't take your sword to town, son
    Leave your sword at home, Gil
    Don't take your sword to town."

    Gil was raged by spice and reached for his sword to draw
    But the stranger drew his sword and struck before Gil even saw
    As he fell to the floor the crowd all gathered 'round
    And wondered at his final words;

    Refrain:
    "Don't take your sword to town, son
    Leave your sword at home, Gil
    Don't take your sword to town."
    A young scrubhopper named Gil

    Grew restless on the farm

    A boy filled with wanderlust

    Who really meant no harm

    He changed his clothes and shined his boots

    And combed his dark hair down

    And his mother cried as he walked out;


    "Don't take your sword to town, son

    Leave your sword at home, Gil

    Don't...
    Continue Reading...

  • Carry On by Bhuff
    Added on May 2, 2005

    Song celebrating life as a T'zai Byn Mercenary.


    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa

    When there ain't no gal to kiss you,
    And the courier seems to miss you,
    And you've lost your uniform issue . . . Carry on.

    When ye've got an empty belly,
    And the 'trines are rotten smelly,
    And you're shivering with your felly . . . Carry on.

    When the gith has done your chum in,
    And your sergeant's sittin' hummin',
    And there ain't no rations comin' . . . Carry on.

    When the world is red and reeking,
    And the gith are loudly shrieking,
    And your blood is slowly leaking . . . Carry on.

    When yer lips lacks all quenches,
    And ya look like the bloody butchers' benches,
    And the air is thick with stenches . . . Carry on.

    Carry on, . . . Though your pals are pale and wan,
    nd the hope of life is gone, . . . Carry on.

    For to do more than you can, . . . Is to be a real man,
    Not a rotten also-ran . . . Carry on.
    Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa


    When there ain't no gal to kiss you,

    And the courier seems to miss you,

    And you've lost your uniform issue . . . Carry on.


    When ye've got an empty belly,

    And the 'trines are rotten smelly,

    And you're shivering with your felly . . . Carry on.


    When the gith has...
    Continue Reading...

  • Cold Black Walls by Grog
    Added on May 1, 2005

    Love song, lamenting a love within the cold black walls.


    No love for cold black walls
    Rats in prison, laws on men's mind.
    Fat merchants rob their brother blind,
    While templar' boots grind little souls.
    My love is here, now water flows.

    She never ran moon-kissed skies
    Never felt wind on a still day
    Nor danced with sand 'tween her toes,
    Her breath in tune to her heartbeat

    Set in obsidian walls
    Pale white skin, and a head of flame,
    With sapphire knifes did part a cord
    That stole away all doubt and shame.
    Sandstorm of lust and life's discord.

    She never ran from dusk till dawn
    Never felt the storm's sandy kiss
    Nor danced at edge of sharp teeth
    Her breath in tune to her heartbeat

    Inside krath-touched walls
    Saw the cities sharp edged joy
    In love's pale arms, her wooden toy.
    Life here sings a different song,
    My love is there, where she belongs

    She never ran moon-kissed skies
    Never felt wind on a still day
    Nor danced with sand 'tween her toes,
    Her breath in tune to her heartbeat

    I had never ran a maze of stone
    Never felt the crowds hold me close
    Nor danced on the rooftop road
    My breath in tune to her heartbeat.

    Inside those cold black walls

    No love for cold black walls

    Rats in prison, laws on men's mind.

    Fat merchants rob their brother blind,

    While templar' boots grind little souls.

    My love is here, now water flows.


    She never ran moon-kissed skies

    Never felt wind on a still day

    Nor danced with sand 'tween her toes,

    Her breath in...
    Continue Reading...