Willjo Tane (dwarven chants, journal, tales, sketches)
Moderator: NWN2 - 03 DM
Willjo Tane (dwarven chants, journal, tales, sketches)
...fresh off the boat... a red bushy haird dwarf thumps his boots on the shore of Rivermoot, tired and grumbling he lumbers to the tavern...
Willjo 'The Wall' Tane grew up a miner’s son, the son of William 'Bouncer' Tane. His mother, Josephina, a devout Sonnlinor of Moradin. His parents beat out a modest existence from the hills and caves of the lands of Vaasa and The Great Glacier. A cold unforgiving land of tundra and snow. They were stern, as stern as any dwarven household but quite more nurturing and caring than the norm, as Willjo was (not for lack of trying) their only son. This fact was painful for his mother who hid her feelings deeply her whole life. They don’t know why she could never conceive again so rejoiced their son with all their hearts. William was a natural miner (as many Dwarves are), and was said to be able to find a Bloodstone in the belly of a fish.
Willjo is a very hardy and stout miner and warrior. At the earliest age he was ushered into the militia reserve as a favor to his father and request of his mother. It was thought as William’s only son, Willjo would benefit from the early rigors and training. It paid off, as he is now a formidable defensive battle tank with a serious distain and lack of remorse for any enemy he’s up against.
Willjo’s mother Josephina was a driving force in his growth. A respected Warrior Priest of Moradin, she has experienced the horrors of the undead more than once, losing an eye to a withering attack shortly after Willjo’s birth. Josephina wears an eyepatch with a subtle depiction of Moradin’s anvil etched into the leather. Before leaving home and heading to Rivermoot, Josephina gave Willjo her battle-hardened heavy shield (a holy focus in fact), of Moradin. While Willjo pays his deepest respects for Dumathoin in his own prayers –he does pay homage to Moradin as well, so he carries this token from his mother with great pride. His Waraxe (MW), a family heirloom, was given to him upon his leave from home to seek his fortunes and adventure. It was previously his grandfather’s and father’s, handed down over the centuries.
Appearance Update: April 2016: Willjo proudly wears the colors of the Argent Legion (Cloak, Helm and Tower Shield) including the Legion Militia Badge in full view as a cloak pin. He also wears the 'tags' of fallen Clerics he finds in the field on his belt as a tribute to their sacrifices (currently two holy symbols hang from his belt, one of Torm and another of Helm).
May 5th, 2016: Willjo wears a massive Winter Wolf Pelt Cloak, fashioned from a pelt given to him from his friend Kalas. His MW Full Plate Armor has been cosmetically altered by his own suggested designs to the armorers and clthing makers of Silverymoon to be much darker, with some divine dwarven runes etched into mainly the shoulder plates. He also wears a matching thick metal helmet.
May 10th, 2016: Willjo walks with a very subtle limp (unhindering).
-=-=-=-
Tane Family Axe
This heavy Waraxe keeps a fine edge but it is obvious to have partook in many battles. A strong but fading ‘Tane’ Family crest is etched upon both sides just above the business edge. Its grip has been rewrapped many times, but a sliver of every previous pommel wrap was kept with each re-wrapping so the handle looks much more unkempt than a characteristic dwarven waraxe leather wrap. It is well balanced and crafted from the finest dwarven steel.
((OOC: A family heirloom, this Axe was given to Willjo Tane on his leave from home to seek his fortunes and adventure. It was previously his grandfather’s and father’s, handed down over the centuries. Its actual true origin is unknown.))
Willjo 'The Wall' Tane grew up a miner’s son, the son of William 'Bouncer' Tane. His mother, Josephina, a devout Sonnlinor of Moradin. His parents beat out a modest existence from the hills and caves of the lands of Vaasa and The Great Glacier. A cold unforgiving land of tundra and snow. They were stern, as stern as any dwarven household but quite more nurturing and caring than the norm, as Willjo was (not for lack of trying) their only son. This fact was painful for his mother who hid her feelings deeply her whole life. They don’t know why she could never conceive again so rejoiced their son with all their hearts. William was a natural miner (as many Dwarves are), and was said to be able to find a Bloodstone in the belly of a fish.
Willjo is a very hardy and stout miner and warrior. At the earliest age he was ushered into the militia reserve as a favor to his father and request of his mother. It was thought as William’s only son, Willjo would benefit from the early rigors and training. It paid off, as he is now a formidable defensive battle tank with a serious distain and lack of remorse for any enemy he’s up against.
Willjo’s mother Josephina was a driving force in his growth. A respected Warrior Priest of Moradin, she has experienced the horrors of the undead more than once, losing an eye to a withering attack shortly after Willjo’s birth. Josephina wears an eyepatch with a subtle depiction of Moradin’s anvil etched into the leather. Before leaving home and heading to Rivermoot, Josephina gave Willjo her battle-hardened heavy shield (a holy focus in fact), of Moradin. While Willjo pays his deepest respects for Dumathoin in his own prayers –he does pay homage to Moradin as well, so he carries this token from his mother with great pride. His Waraxe (MW), a family heirloom, was given to him upon his leave from home to seek his fortunes and adventure. It was previously his grandfather’s and father’s, handed down over the centuries.
Appearance Update: April 2016: Willjo proudly wears the colors of the Argent Legion (Cloak, Helm and Tower Shield) including the Legion Militia Badge in full view as a cloak pin. He also wears the 'tags' of fallen Clerics he finds in the field on his belt as a tribute to their sacrifices (currently two holy symbols hang from his belt, one of Torm and another of Helm).
May 5th, 2016: Willjo wears a massive Winter Wolf Pelt Cloak, fashioned from a pelt given to him from his friend Kalas. His MW Full Plate Armor has been cosmetically altered by his own suggested designs to the armorers and clthing makers of Silverymoon to be much darker, with some divine dwarven runes etched into mainly the shoulder plates. He also wears a matching thick metal helmet.
May 10th, 2016: Willjo walks with a very subtle limp (unhindering).
-=-=-=-
Tane Family Axe
This heavy Waraxe keeps a fine edge but it is obvious to have partook in many battles. A strong but fading ‘Tane’ Family crest is etched upon both sides just above the business edge. Its grip has been rewrapped many times, but a sliver of every previous pommel wrap was kept with each re-wrapping so the handle looks much more unkempt than a characteristic dwarven waraxe leather wrap. It is well balanced and crafted from the finest dwarven steel.
((OOC: A family heirloom, this Axe was given to Willjo Tane on his leave from home to seek his fortunes and adventure. It was previously his grandfather’s and father’s, handed down over the centuries. Its actual true origin is unknown.))
Last edited by Galadorn on Mon Mar 26, 2018 12:09 am, edited 6 times in total.
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
Jornal
It be a long haul ta Rivermoot on tha fuckin boat. The seas ar nae calm - felt like a storm be brewin where I be headed
Land feels good unner me boot thou. Solid too. I be stayin round these parts a while i'd wager
That be tru as tru cen be
Long leggers are frenly enough. I does good werk here. Haulin sand bags. Good fer me back. Naw so good fer me knees. Fadder be proud, mudder not so, but she counna false a dwarf for gainin a hard earn wage off the ache in hes back and the sweat off es brow I spose
Met me a few more long leggers an thank Dumathoin a few kinsmen as well
Torae – bloody deadeye wit a fuckin stick shooter e be. Quiet sort. Elf thou but I spose he ent all bad fer et - Wudnt sur as sur coulda been when I firss seen im but I tell ya I truss him – Tall sort - deep thinkr – E an I been werkin for tha Marshall doin jobs - e be seekin northward soon, to see Felbarr an I be feelin tha same sur as sur cen be – me kinsmen up dere I hopes ta have me Steels commissioned from when me coppers adds up – nuttin but Dwarven metals be gracin this hide no fears ta say dat
Kalas – Smartr then he look this one – But honored in tha name o the ‘Rider’ – hes a devout – harnessin the blessins a real good wingman – Es a terror with a sword an covered in sparklies dat help tha smakcs be bouncin away like nuthin I eer seen – dont ave much time for wastin thou, shootin es mout off at the Sarge – hes alright in my books sur as sur
Daphne – funny talkin long legged tall piece o strawberry tart this one – nudder stick shooter id put me coppers on in a scuffle – bit o scoutin in er too sur as sur but funky in tha brain – but aint all the lassies
Sarge Longarm – bloody good bloke I ent kiddin – runnin tha show with dem Legionnaires o Riversmoot along side dat hardarse tight pursed Wilson – I be thinkin hard on Longarm thou pretty sur he be trustin me right good an given me a Badge ta join tha Legion soon – I ne’er shed more blood fer me own mudder yet same as I ave fer them long leggers at Riversmoot and devotin me axe to em no fears – get me one o dem fancy shmansy cloaks they wears wit da colors yep – good crowd
Wilfrid – Now diss one got me thwarted – he be a heavy heavy thinker diss one – devout to Torm – cant knock him fer thet – proud an stern – stoic even I hopes ta have a think an chat with him soon – not sur ifn e like me thou
Lessa – now heres a drink o cool water on a hot day tru as tru cen be I gots no fears ta say et – cute as dumplins but a bit soft on the critters mayhaps – she be handy an easy on the orbs thou – I likes er
Stoneshield Brudders – Me Kinsmen! now heres a pair o brudders me eyes done shone when I seen em right tru – bloody good in a scrap too I be hopin they shows up agin to watch me back gainst dem deaders round tha Riversmoot – few ales – h’ok more den a few ales I be passin t’dem right soon sur as sur
It be a long haul ta Rivermoot on tha fuckin boat. The seas ar nae calm - felt like a storm be brewin where I be headed
Land feels good unner me boot thou. Solid too. I be stayin round these parts a while i'd wager
That be tru as tru cen be
Long leggers are frenly enough. I does good werk here. Haulin sand bags. Good fer me back. Naw so good fer me knees. Fadder be proud, mudder not so, but she counna false a dwarf for gainin a hard earn wage off the ache in hes back and the sweat off es brow I spose
Met me a few more long leggers an thank Dumathoin a few kinsmen as well
Torae – bloody deadeye wit a fuckin stick shooter e be. Quiet sort. Elf thou but I spose he ent all bad fer et - Wudnt sur as sur coulda been when I firss seen im but I tell ya I truss him – Tall sort - deep thinkr – E an I been werkin for tha Marshall doin jobs - e be seekin northward soon, to see Felbarr an I be feelin tha same sur as sur cen be – me kinsmen up dere I hopes ta have me Steels commissioned from when me coppers adds up – nuttin but Dwarven metals be gracin this hide no fears ta say dat
Kalas – Smartr then he look this one – But honored in tha name o the ‘Rider’ – hes a devout – harnessin the blessins a real good wingman – Es a terror with a sword an covered in sparklies dat help tha smakcs be bouncin away like nuthin I eer seen – dont ave much time for wastin thou, shootin es mout off at the Sarge – hes alright in my books sur as sur
Daphne – funny talkin long legged tall piece o strawberry tart this one – nudder stick shooter id put me coppers on in a scuffle – bit o scoutin in er too sur as sur but funky in tha brain – but aint all the lassies
Sarge Longarm – bloody good bloke I ent kiddin – runnin tha show with dem Legionnaires o Riversmoot along side dat hardarse tight pursed Wilson – I be thinkin hard on Longarm thou pretty sur he be trustin me right good an given me a Badge ta join tha Legion soon – I ne’er shed more blood fer me own mudder yet same as I ave fer them long leggers at Riversmoot and devotin me axe to em no fears – get me one o dem fancy shmansy cloaks they wears wit da colors yep – good crowd
Wilfrid – Now diss one got me thwarted – he be a heavy heavy thinker diss one – devout to Torm – cant knock him fer thet – proud an stern – stoic even I hopes ta have a think an chat with him soon – not sur ifn e like me thou
Lessa – now heres a drink o cool water on a hot day tru as tru cen be I gots no fears ta say et – cute as dumplins but a bit soft on the critters mayhaps – she be handy an easy on the orbs thou – I likes er
Stoneshield Brudders – Me Kinsmen! now heres a pair o brudders me eyes done shone when I seen em right tru – bloody good in a scrap too I be hopin they shows up agin to watch me back gainst dem deaders round tha Riversmoot – few ales – h’ok more den a few ales I be passin t’dem right soon sur as sur
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
dwarven chantins ~ Willjo Tane
Blood N Bones
Come oer ye knave blighters
An ye arsehole all nighters
I a tale to share fer better er werse
It aint fer yeller bellies
Or saintly ol nellies
I may be informin on a terrible curse
Bring me yer ears
Dont bring in yer fears
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Twas a cold ol hard night
Bristlin to n fro fer a fight
Dem deaders shows up all a cacklin
“To Arms!” yelled da Sarge
“Charge!" - so dey charged
Blood N Bones each one they be a snackin
Bring me yer ears
Dont bring in yer fears
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Our wounds paid no mind
Surprise aches o tha mind kind
When a grewsome dead chief basserd appeared
Wit tha flashin o lights
Blades o flame was es bite
Killin kinsmen as if he not cared
Bring me yer ears
Dont bring in yer fears
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Some o tha young crew
Most older ones too
Dinae make it out with tha ress
We fearin tha worss
Dat diss evil bad curse
Theys fates will nae be tha bess
For we all knows da tru scorn
Upon nex days morn
OUR men be back cacklin
Seekin OUR hide fer a snackin
So gadder yer daughters
N lock up yer sons
Tha Moot be a fright dese dark days
But should ye be bold
Young or haps old
Join us Blood N Bones in da FRAY
Bring me yer ears
Dont bring in yer fears
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Bring me yer ears
Dont bring in yer fears
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Blood N Bones
Come oer ye knave blighters
An ye arsehole all nighters
I a tale to share fer better er werse
It aint fer yeller bellies
Or saintly ol nellies
I may be informin on a terrible curse
Bring me yer ears
Dont bring in yer fears
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Twas a cold ol hard night
Bristlin to n fro fer a fight
Dem deaders shows up all a cacklin
“To Arms!” yelled da Sarge
“Charge!" - so dey charged
Blood N Bones each one they be a snackin
Bring me yer ears
Dont bring in yer fears
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Our wounds paid no mind
Surprise aches o tha mind kind
When a grewsome dead chief basserd appeared
Wit tha flashin o lights
Blades o flame was es bite
Killin kinsmen as if he not cared
Bring me yer ears
Dont bring in yer fears
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Some o tha young crew
Most older ones too
Dinae make it out with tha ress
We fearin tha worss
Dat diss evil bad curse
Theys fates will nae be tha bess
For we all knows da tru scorn
Upon nex days morn
OUR men be back cacklin
Seekin OUR hide fer a snackin
So gadder yer daughters
N lock up yer sons
Tha Moot be a fright dese dark days
But should ye be bold
Young or haps old
Join us Blood N Bones in da FRAY
Bring me yer ears
Dont bring in yer fears
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Bring me yer ears
Dont bring in yer fears
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Yea nae - Drink up me lads
Last edited by Galadorn on Fri May 13, 2016 1:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
Jornal
Quite da happenin in tha Moot - Seekin lost mens – an detroyin deaders like nowhere I eer heard nae for I speaks dat truly
Lost a fair handed long legger lad – Wilfrid - May Dumathoin reveal to im da secret untold fer a grand final place layin es ead - E still be freshly laid upon tha solemn soil o tha grave-earth near tha Moot een now as I be etchin dese very words upon pages
Marshall be findin me worthy - Bout time id wager - Joined da ranks o tha Legion – “Militiadwarf Willjo Tane” - Aye Fadder be proud – Does me ead good ta watch oer thems that be needin watchin
Few new boots on Moot soil – mayhaps one wit short legs too – bout time
Malcer – Nudder devout – well spoke long legger from abroad – good at lissenin an smart
Vugar – Blessed souls above an below – Orcblood long legger! – Gran Fadder be rollin oer six feet below in es final rockbed ifn e seen me sharin da fray wit a half blood Orc – but cen he swing – like neer eer seen tru be told no fears – bit rocky in da noggin thou – best keep on me tippy toes round im afor e eats me
Zip Zap [or sumthin] – fuck me diss one got me a thumpin up in tha noggin – gussied up like a spring tart for church – gnome sing songer e be - boastin a musik stringy twanger all da time wunt shut it but for it be a sing-song-along – e be spoutin me home words like a pro thou – made me all orb-soft fer a spell – es firss sing-song-along be all bout me ifn I recalls it all…
Deep, and stone, and strong;
Heart, and gem, and thick with song;
Far from his hallowed halls and kin;
Willjo Tane, stout and strong within.
e be spoutin more I recalled well since it be spouted wit me kins tongue…
Delve, deep. Delve, me hardy.
Strike the earth, break the stone.
Deep the veins, deep our party,
Strike the path, bring us to home.
Long we hewn, and long departed;
Rocks we slew, and gems of beauty;
Found, recovered, gift of All Father;
Our kin, in blood, in body.
Strike the staves!
Split the barrels!
Slay our foes!
Shoot the quarrels!
Strike the anvil,
Melt the metal;
In the battle,
We prove our mettle!
Ho! Me kinsmen,
Ho! My brothers!
Make proud our Da!
Pride of our Mothers!
RAaaaargh! Huzzah!
Quite da happenin in tha Moot - Seekin lost mens – an detroyin deaders like nowhere I eer heard nae for I speaks dat truly
Lost a fair handed long legger lad – Wilfrid - May Dumathoin reveal to im da secret untold fer a grand final place layin es ead - E still be freshly laid upon tha solemn soil o tha grave-earth near tha Moot een now as I be etchin dese very words upon pages
Marshall be findin me worthy - Bout time id wager - Joined da ranks o tha Legion – “Militiadwarf Willjo Tane” - Aye Fadder be proud – Does me ead good ta watch oer thems that be needin watchin
Few new boots on Moot soil – mayhaps one wit short legs too – bout time
Malcer – Nudder devout – well spoke long legger from abroad – good at lissenin an smart
Vugar – Blessed souls above an below – Orcblood long legger! – Gran Fadder be rollin oer six feet below in es final rockbed ifn e seen me sharin da fray wit a half blood Orc – but cen he swing – like neer eer seen tru be told no fears – bit rocky in da noggin thou – best keep on me tippy toes round im afor e eats me
Zip Zap [or sumthin] – fuck me diss one got me a thumpin up in tha noggin – gussied up like a spring tart for church – gnome sing songer e be - boastin a musik stringy twanger all da time wunt shut it but for it be a sing-song-along – e be spoutin me home words like a pro thou – made me all orb-soft fer a spell – es firss sing-song-along be all bout me ifn I recalls it all…
Deep, and stone, and strong;
Heart, and gem, and thick with song;
Far from his hallowed halls and kin;
Willjo Tane, stout and strong within.
e be spoutin more I recalled well since it be spouted wit me kins tongue…
Delve, deep. Delve, me hardy.
Strike the earth, break the stone.
Deep the veins, deep our party,
Strike the path, bring us to home.
Long we hewn, and long departed;
Rocks we slew, and gems of beauty;
Found, recovered, gift of All Father;
Our kin, in blood, in body.
Strike the staves!
Split the barrels!
Slay our foes!
Shoot the quarrels!
Strike the anvil,
Melt the metal;
In the battle,
We prove our mettle!
Ho! Me kinsmen,
Ho! My brothers!
Make proud our Da!
Pride of our Mothers!
RAaaaargh! Huzzah!
- Ithildur
- Dungeon Master
- Posts: 3548
- Joined: Wed Oct 06, 2004 7:46 am
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- Contact:
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
((very nice dwarven poetry))
Formerly: Aglaril Shaelara, Faerun's unlikeliest Bladesinger
Current main: Ky - something
It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
Current main: Ky - something
It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
Jornal
Coppers be addin’ up right good – me Steels be chaffin me hind quarters soon nuff I spose sur thing - Ifn I cen pass an hour or two off ale deyd be on me back awready ---- naaaaaaaaaah
((jotted into the margin hastily as if added after this journal entry was complete:))
Today be me born-day - 143 year I be trottin diss ere realm in Dumathoins eyes I opes ta trot 143 more
Ghoulses Kalas tells me bout – bunches of us squarin off wit dese sumpthin fierce lately – bad business – scratchin wit foul fingers makin yer limbs froze up – seen a bunch up yonder tords Fort-peek but worss den dat unner da mausoleum wess o tha Moot – Lessa an Kalas wit me down deep wheres we shouldna been far as im tinkin – when taken a fer scratches we eard spoken few chants in da dark – man talk as ifn dey rulin da deaders – bad business – gotta amember theys lookin so ifn I spies em ta be double tough on em…
Few more long leggers aboot – fraid mebbe all dese hadventurers juss be showin up ta fill tha cursed armies gaist us id wager – but all in all a good crew o boots ta ave backin me up
Nate – Fine long legger e be in a scrap all devoutin tords tha Mornin Lord – more devouts da better mudder always sed – fine talker too and tru as tru cen be
Shax – little fucker – down right mangly little fucker id wager – peel yer eyelids off fer a silven piece in yer sleep diss one – sellin shit e down right hadmits ta stealin from anudder – not sur ifn Lessa be all straight as straight cen be seein as she be buyin es shit same time – got me wonderin bout er
Lorre – ifn I be a bettin dwarf which I is diss long legged piece o werk be pushin hup daisies wittin a fortnight ifn he dinna calm tha fuck downs – bloody fine swing on im thou wit a skull bashin ammer – I named it “Runtbasher” – bess keep an eye – two eyes on im thou er he be shambling in no time – too eager ta crawl dem hills an fresh off da boat from fuck knows where – horny as fuck too glad es inta skirts
Coppers be addin’ up right good – me Steels be chaffin me hind quarters soon nuff I spose sur thing - Ifn I cen pass an hour or two off ale deyd be on me back awready ---- naaaaaaaaaah
((jotted into the margin hastily as if added after this journal entry was complete:))
Today be me born-day - 143 year I be trottin diss ere realm in Dumathoins eyes I opes ta trot 143 more
Ghoulses Kalas tells me bout – bunches of us squarin off wit dese sumpthin fierce lately – bad business – scratchin wit foul fingers makin yer limbs froze up – seen a bunch up yonder tords Fort-peek but worss den dat unner da mausoleum wess o tha Moot – Lessa an Kalas wit me down deep wheres we shouldna been far as im tinkin – when taken a fer scratches we eard spoken few chants in da dark – man talk as ifn dey rulin da deaders – bad business – gotta amember theys lookin so ifn I spies em ta be double tough on em…
Few more long leggers aboot – fraid mebbe all dese hadventurers juss be showin up ta fill tha cursed armies gaist us id wager – but all in all a good crew o boots ta ave backin me up
Nate – Fine long legger e be in a scrap all devoutin tords tha Mornin Lord – more devouts da better mudder always sed – fine talker too and tru as tru cen be
Shax – little fucker – down right mangly little fucker id wager – peel yer eyelids off fer a silven piece in yer sleep diss one – sellin shit e down right hadmits ta stealin from anudder – not sur ifn Lessa be all straight as straight cen be seein as she be buyin es shit same time – got me wonderin bout er
Lorre – ifn I be a bettin dwarf which I is diss long legged piece o werk be pushin hup daisies wittin a fortnight ifn he dinna calm tha fuck downs – bloody fine swing on im thou wit a skull bashin ammer – I named it “Runtbasher” – bess keep an eye – two eyes on im thou er he be shambling in no time – too eager ta crawl dem hills an fresh off da boat from fuck knows where – horny as fuck too glad es inta skirts
Last edited by Galadorn on Mon Apr 25, 2016 4:11 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
dwarven chantins ~ Willjo Tane
ALE ALE ALE
Golden thick likka dragons hoard
Bubbly n sour likka agin ol whore
Fills ye up likka leg o boar
Cen ye speed er up I wants s-more
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
Down yer troat ya mangy git
Den anudder dont never quit
Den a third no worry ta fit
Den a fourt - an den dass it
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
Fifth an sixth be sour n sweet
Nummer seven n eight dinna minds ifn I doo
Nummer twelf do dee dee doo
Twenty too too doo too
Drinkin drinkin drinkin
((incomprehensible text follows for a few lines))
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
Thirty thirty six
Pickin up stiks
((incomprehensible text))
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
((several verses were attempted to be added into the journal here but all that made it was a messy slurred incomprehensible jotting of text, and the bottom of this page was clearly soaking wet, then dried, and partially torn))
ALE ALE ALE
Golden thick likka dragons hoard
Bubbly n sour likka agin ol whore
Fills ye up likka leg o boar
Cen ye speed er up I wants s-more
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
Down yer troat ya mangy git
Den anudder dont never quit
Den a third no worry ta fit
Den a fourt - an den dass it
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
Fifth an sixth be sour n sweet
Nummer seven n eight dinna minds ifn I doo
Nummer twelf do dee dee doo
Twenty too too doo too
Drinkin drinkin drinkin
((incomprehensible text follows for a few lines))
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
Thirty thirty six
Pickin up stiks
((incomprehensible text))
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
ALE ALE ALE
((several verses were attempted to be added into the journal here but all that made it was a messy slurred incomprehensible jotting of text, and the bottom of this page was clearly soaking wet, then dried, and partially torn))
Last edited by Galadorn on Fri May 27, 2016 12:52 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
Jornal
It be time ta pledge heart n soul all serious like in dee all knowin an seein eyes o that secret keeper Dumathoin –
Fadder said when I heads ta me destinee I seek out a cause ta defend an I finds it ere in tha Moot
Like pass kin oo took a cause ta defend while it be not rooted wit me kinsmen up Nort – tha long leggers an some short ave shown me acceptin ere so I feels it me self duty to guard dem until da deaders be crunched fer good
Tamarrow I will pledgin me Axe and my heart ta honor dems dat be put down aready an train up bess I cen now and laters to see diss deader horde down fer good – an once me trainin be bess kind I be travelin wit Torae and ooever udders inta tha trek ta Felbarr an seek out me kin fer top trainin like me grandfadders fadders once speekin of – as tru as tru cen be dwarven defenders – ifn any knows how ta be startin me learnin it be kinsmen up dere id wager – no fears – not a one
Tha Moot be home fer now – I be dere fer betters er werse – Makin it a safe place
It be time ta pledge heart n soul all serious like in dee all knowin an seein eyes o that secret keeper Dumathoin –
Fadder said when I heads ta me destinee I seek out a cause ta defend an I finds it ere in tha Moot
Like pass kin oo took a cause ta defend while it be not rooted wit me kinsmen up Nort – tha long leggers an some short ave shown me acceptin ere so I feels it me self duty to guard dem until da deaders be crunched fer good
Tamarrow I will pledgin me Axe and my heart ta honor dems dat be put down aready an train up bess I cen now and laters to see diss deader horde down fer good – an once me trainin be bess kind I be travelin wit Torae and ooever udders inta tha trek ta Felbarr an seek out me kin fer top trainin like me grandfadders fadders once speekin of – as tru as tru cen be dwarven defenders – ifn any knows how ta be startin me learnin it be kinsmen up dere id wager – no fears – not a one
Tha Moot be home fer now – I be dere fer betters er werse – Makin it a safe place
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
some sketchin fer me Steels noggin cover...
Last edited by Galadorn on Sun May 01, 2016 2:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
nex I been thinkin da shoulders n chess be right matchin dat noggin pot - mebbe sarge givin a werd when me Steels be ready an carve em out like diss - more likin me kins-made Steels den dem long leggers types
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
Nex be da clodhoppers – matchin right good an yer foots be moss important ta be keepin dry, warm an comfy – dass whot Fadder sed es ole life – e bein a miner es ole life an kin be respectin es werds on da subject tru as tru no fears ta be sayin it - keep yer feet comfy - en I be feelin similar inta dat mentalitee
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
Jornal ,
Spendin long hours workin dat beetle belly coverin fer ta be makin meself a new smack-blocker – fucker near kilt me wudnt fer Torae – but I was keen nuff ta salvage a chunk big nuff fer it so I be takin me time ta make sur as sur it be qualitee ready ta replacing me Legion Tower - Torae beese called it a 'Stag Beetle' but fucker were big as a draft horse er bigger - near chop me leg off dat day
Artsy fartsy lady hup be beggin fer sum elps near igh old – got a tri-clan o do-bads causin shit fer er while all she be at is carvin up a few stone – so Kalas an me we took dem down – tree clan chiefs buggy, gnoll an Ork some gud pays too me Steels be on me back sooner dan sooner thet be da truth
Kalas be sumthin else no fears ta be sayin – E an Vugar off huntin Warg now – snow warg even – sed deys breat nuff ta froze yer limbs offn no damn fears to it – Kalas dun give me one full winters warg pelt an it be one da bess gifts I eer did git – It be makin a perfect compliment ta me garb lookin right fierce fer wear an I dinna minds ifn I not kilt it meself as befriendin a man like Kalas an e given it ta me be juss as good as killin it meself – no fears ta be sayin thet
Lorre got me worryin – e reckless an all aboot killin with nar nae no stopping it – like e be tinkin in es noggin it be juss all shakes an giggles out killin whoteer e cen fer coins o silven an gold – e be a mouthy fucker too – bad mouthin da Marshall Kadalion like I neer seen afor – an fer whot – e pays em a bloody good fair share o coin fer jobs dat be takin might small riskin id wager
--nudder long legger aboot da Moot an a short one too aye…
Hebog – shamanistic drood kind of a hobbit e be – wolf be following inta da Moot too no fears dere – nice puppy but Hebog be warnin nae nar no touchin da dog eh – fuckin wolf nips me e be a pair o knickers in no time an dat be tru as tru – e be a talky sort thou an likes a nip er two o wines er tha ard stuff so e beese awight
Ashaben – Sombre ol’lad diss long legger be tru as tru – devout o da dead lord – Kelemvor e be prayin ta when it be bed time – wanderer sum good e be needin trainin up but same as same e cen fire a stick shooter good nuff ta elp a feller in a scuffle – I be meanin ta ave a think-say wit im gain soon thou – es eider a deep thinker er es noggin be a few silver short of a gold – neer sur as sur wit sum o dese long leggers – no fear ta dat
Hanna-Belle – ifn sweet came in a bottle diss missus be sold fer top coin – neer seen a sweeter tart tall drink o strawberry tart firss nor lass – she a bit silky in da speekin thou too bad dem long leggers neer looks twice at me kin er id be sweepin diss one off er feets in a minute – she be talkin bout da dead lords Kelemvor awful much thou I yet ta seen ifn she be devout to im – she sed she be born ere in tha Moot so whedder she cen swing dat skullbasher she be totin er not I appy ta see anudder join da fray gainst dem fuckin deaders tru as tru
Spendin long hours workin dat beetle belly coverin fer ta be makin meself a new smack-blocker – fucker near kilt me wudnt fer Torae – but I was keen nuff ta salvage a chunk big nuff fer it so I be takin me time ta make sur as sur it be qualitee ready ta replacing me Legion Tower - Torae beese called it a 'Stag Beetle' but fucker were big as a draft horse er bigger - near chop me leg off dat day
Artsy fartsy lady hup be beggin fer sum elps near igh old – got a tri-clan o do-bads causin shit fer er while all she be at is carvin up a few stone – so Kalas an me we took dem down – tree clan chiefs buggy, gnoll an Ork some gud pays too me Steels be on me back sooner dan sooner thet be da truth
Kalas be sumthin else no fears ta be sayin – E an Vugar off huntin Warg now – snow warg even – sed deys breat nuff ta froze yer limbs offn no damn fears to it – Kalas dun give me one full winters warg pelt an it be one da bess gifts I eer did git – It be makin a perfect compliment ta me garb lookin right fierce fer wear an I dinna minds ifn I not kilt it meself as befriendin a man like Kalas an e given it ta me be juss as good as killin it meself – no fears ta be sayin thet
Lorre got me worryin – e reckless an all aboot killin with nar nae no stopping it – like e be tinkin in es noggin it be juss all shakes an giggles out killin whoteer e cen fer coins o silven an gold – e be a mouthy fucker too – bad mouthin da Marshall Kadalion like I neer seen afor – an fer whot – e pays em a bloody good fair share o coin fer jobs dat be takin might small riskin id wager
--nudder long legger aboot da Moot an a short one too aye…
Hebog – shamanistic drood kind of a hobbit e be – wolf be following inta da Moot too no fears dere – nice puppy but Hebog be warnin nae nar no touchin da dog eh – fuckin wolf nips me e be a pair o knickers in no time an dat be tru as tru – e be a talky sort thou an likes a nip er two o wines er tha ard stuff so e beese awight
Ashaben – Sombre ol’lad diss long legger be tru as tru – devout o da dead lord – Kelemvor e be prayin ta when it be bed time – wanderer sum good e be needin trainin up but same as same e cen fire a stick shooter good nuff ta elp a feller in a scuffle – I be meanin ta ave a think-say wit im gain soon thou – es eider a deep thinker er es noggin be a few silver short of a gold – neer sur as sur wit sum o dese long leggers – no fear ta dat
Hanna-Belle – ifn sweet came in a bottle diss missus be sold fer top coin – neer seen a sweeter tart tall drink o strawberry tart firss nor lass – she a bit silky in da speekin thou too bad dem long leggers neer looks twice at me kin er id be sweepin diss one off er feets in a minute – she be talkin bout da dead lords Kelemvor awful much thou I yet ta seen ifn she be devout to im – she sed she be born ere in tha Moot so whedder she cen swing dat skullbasher she be totin er not I appy ta see anudder join da fray gainst dem fuckin deaders tru as tru
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
Jornal
Da Gem – long leggers be callin it - Silverymoon – total fuckin mess o maggicks dem foolish arcanist folk be flingin aboot like none odders – bloody maggicks bridge eh cen een see tha fucker – spectin me ta be walkin to an fro wit no nar nae eyes on wheres me fuckin feets be too – bad business an fuck dat I be keeps me feets on da friggin grounds I do – da walkin aint no ting - I ent no fuckin bird
Be good elp up dere thou fer materialin fer me Tower Shield I beese makin from da beetle belly chunk – mayhaps I be needin da use of a smithy fer da final werk on it on dem buckles an hinges
Met a sweet tawkin kinswoman o mine Erolin – she be a sweet-tarter fer da caravans passin by - needin me ta vestigates pipin below da Gem – all I finds was a runt – smacked im down fer goods no fears dere
Friggin good lot o werk ta be ad thou in da Gems - Brelen Brightblades got me huffin diss an dat fer em makin gud coins no fears
Little feller wit a gobo pet een in diss fuck up of a town tryin ta give me coins fer es own foods – I ceanna be acceptin dat little fucker an es fam-ly be needin dat mush more den I be needin me Steels – good on em
Vaults o Sages I be werkin fer diss toime – more huffin aboot – bookses an papers here n dere all erywhere – but good coin – I be takin it sur as sur me Steels juss aboot I gots –
Da Gem – long leggers be callin it - Silverymoon – total fuckin mess o maggicks dem foolish arcanist folk be flingin aboot like none odders – bloody maggicks bridge eh cen een see tha fucker – spectin me ta be walkin to an fro wit no nar nae eyes on wheres me fuckin feets be too – bad business an fuck dat I be keeps me feets on da friggin grounds I do – da walkin aint no ting - I ent no fuckin bird
Be good elp up dere thou fer materialin fer me Tower Shield I beese makin from da beetle belly chunk – mayhaps I be needin da use of a smithy fer da final werk on it on dem buckles an hinges
Met a sweet tawkin kinswoman o mine Erolin – she be a sweet-tarter fer da caravans passin by - needin me ta vestigates pipin below da Gem – all I finds was a runt – smacked im down fer goods no fears dere
Friggin good lot o werk ta be ad thou in da Gems - Brelen Brightblades got me huffin diss an dat fer em makin gud coins no fears
Little feller wit a gobo pet een in diss fuck up of a town tryin ta give me coins fer es own foods – I ceanna be acceptin dat little fucker an es fam-ly be needin dat mush more den I be needin me Steels – good on em
Vaults o Sages I be werkin fer diss toime – more huffin aboot – bookses an papers here n dere all erywhere – but good coin – I be takin it sur as sur me Steels juss aboot I gots –
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
Jornal
Bring on de deaders
It be done – me Steels be earnt from da sweat o me back an da blood spilt from me veins – Sarge Longarm was appier den I it seemd as he pass oer ta me dem Steels o da Legion colors – e wudnt too eager ta be changin da looks of’em ta be matchin me own designs but I knew dat from da starts mayhaps dat be happens – Legion colors or no udders e sed an I cen respectin dat – but fadder an mudder be proud id wager ifn dey seen me now – clad ead ta toe in Finest qualitee Steels an preparing ta meet me kin o Felbarr right as rain – mebbe een trek ta Mithril ‘all tru as tru sooner den later – be needin a few touch ups mayhaps fer comfort but dem long leggers as oft as I sez dey be lackin in metal-werks ave done impressed me no damn fears dere – diss suit o Steels be mighty fine e’en fer a dwarfen feller loik I
Bring on de deaders indeed
Bring on de deaders
It be done – me Steels be earnt from da sweat o me back an da blood spilt from me veins – Sarge Longarm was appier den I it seemd as he pass oer ta me dem Steels o da Legion colors – e wudnt too eager ta be changin da looks of’em ta be matchin me own designs but I knew dat from da starts mayhaps dat be happens – Legion colors or no udders e sed an I cen respectin dat – but fadder an mudder be proud id wager ifn dey seen me now – clad ead ta toe in Finest qualitee Steels an preparing ta meet me kin o Felbarr right as rain – mebbe een trek ta Mithril ‘all tru as tru sooner den later – be needin a few touch ups mayhaps fer comfort but dem long leggers as oft as I sez dey be lackin in metal-werks ave done impressed me no damn fears dere – diss suit o Steels be mighty fine e’en fer a dwarfen feller loik I
Bring on de deaders indeed
Re: Willjo Tane (IC tales, notes, journal)
dwarven chantins ~ Willjo Tane
Longin Fer Kin
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Me Kin I long fer
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Oh dears I miss thee
Stone n Steel
Long way from ome long way from ome
Unner me boots me path be long
Long way from ome long way from ome
Wunderin if me soul be strong
Me fadder wished well me fadder wished well
Tane family axe he hand me
Me fadder wished well me fadder wished well
Ta carry on land an carry on sea
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Me Kin I long fer
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Oh dears I miss thee
Stone n Steel
Tha shores o tha Moot tha shores o tha Moot
Dropped solid on stone I landed
Tha shores o tha Moot tha shores o tha Moot
A grave task Dumathoin he handed
Me mudder tears shed me mudder tears shed
She granted me blessins on high
Me mudder tears shed me mudder tears shed
But bless er meself she neer askd why
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Me Kin I long fer
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Oh dears I miss thee
Stone n Steel
Fortunes be sought fortunes be sought
On tha bloodshed o man an kin
Fortunes be sought fortunes be sought
Ta be done wit da curses an sin
Are ye proud o me da? Are ye proud o me ma?
Defendin tha weak I ave sworn
Are ye proud o me da? Are ye proud o me ma?
I neer stop longin ya morn ta morn
I neer stop longin ya morn ta morn
I neer stop longin ya morn ta morn
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Me Kin I long fer
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Oh dears I miss thee
Stone n Steel
Longin Fer Kin
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Me Kin I long fer
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Oh dears I miss thee
Stone n Steel
Long way from ome long way from ome
Unner me boots me path be long
Long way from ome long way from ome
Wunderin if me soul be strong
Me fadder wished well me fadder wished well
Tane family axe he hand me
Me fadder wished well me fadder wished well
Ta carry on land an carry on sea
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Me Kin I long fer
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Oh dears I miss thee
Stone n Steel
Tha shores o tha Moot tha shores o tha Moot
Dropped solid on stone I landed
Tha shores o tha Moot tha shores o tha Moot
A grave task Dumathoin he handed
Me mudder tears shed me mudder tears shed
She granted me blessins on high
Me mudder tears shed me mudder tears shed
But bless er meself she neer askd why
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Me Kin I long fer
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Oh dears I miss thee
Stone n Steel
Fortunes be sought fortunes be sought
On tha bloodshed o man an kin
Fortunes be sought fortunes be sought
Ta be done wit da curses an sin
Are ye proud o me da? Are ye proud o me ma?
Defendin tha weak I ave sworn
Are ye proud o me da? Are ye proud o me ma?
I neer stop longin ya morn ta morn
I neer stop longin ya morn ta morn
I neer stop longin ya morn ta morn
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Me Kin I long fer
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Stone n Steel
Oh dears I miss thee
Stone n Steel