Songs and Stories of Renunzio Buonofortuna (21+)

For 18+ stories, poems and other creative art.
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Ogregrim
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Bella Donna

Post by Ogregrim »

In Thorpshire town, not long ago,
A lovely maid did dwell,
With batting eyes and gentle sighs,
She made the lads' hearts swell,
They called her Bella Donna,
For Donna was her name,
And she strode just like a lady,
And greatly grew her fame.

All in the summer gardens,
With roses sweet imbued,
With longing glance, and spritely dance,
She constantly was wooed.
But hard, hard, Bella Donna,
Though she shared in the fun,
Turned from every suitor,
And her heart could not be won.

Though Willi brought her flowers,
And Danny brought her wine,
She'd take the gift, and then made swift,
Their wooing to decline.
Soon every lad in Thropshire,
Had wept a bitter tear,
Over Bella donna,
Then found another more sincere.

And time found Summer passing,
And Autumn growing cold,
And when Winter came, to her sad shame,
She'd no love of her own to hold.
All those that once did love her,
Now turned her well away,
And laughed at the foolish longings,
That had plagued them yesterday.

So lonely Bella Donna,
Had nowhere left to go,
On the old hillside, In shame she died,
And was burried beneath the snow.
No marker stone recalled her,
So forgotten had she become.
She slipped back into Chauntea's bosom
That served her for a tomb.

And when the spring came back again,
A new flower there bloomed,
With petals white that shone in the night,
Sad and muskily perfumed.
And when the blooms had faded,
It bore a tempting fruit,
But to eat it would be fatal:
For poisoned pride was at it's root.
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
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Ogregrim
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Vistani Horse Song

Post by Ogregrim »

High, the moon is shining,
Swift, the hooves are tapping,
On the stony pathway,
To where my love is waiting.
Bright the stars are twinkling,
While the world is napping,
The wind in mane is blowing,
All exhilerating.

Run, my fine swift pony,
Through darkness to the meeting,
Where a heart is rapid pounding,
In the bosom of my darling.
Carry me, my courser,
To my tryste so sweetly fleeting,
And you shall have fine rolled oats,
And I'll sing just like the starling.

I'll sing a song of blessing,
To the mare that knows my longing,
And with ribbon braid her bright mane,
That wherever she goes walking,
The people will nod and answer,
There is a fine horse going,
To brighten the hearts of lovers,
Such shall be their talking.
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
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Ogregrim
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Roll Your Leg Over

Post by Ogregrim »

Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over that's what I say, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, I like it that way.

Mistledale girls so it's allowed,
Do Mother Chauntea quite good and proud,
A kiss and wink
And mighty strong drink,
They're always best pleased when the field's been well plowed.

Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over that's what I say, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, I like it that way.

Daggerdale girls, For all their life,
Wait in the hopes to become a wife,
Their Mums will bequeath,
A mighty fine sheath,
So they spend their nights looking for the right knife.

Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over that's what I say, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, I like it that way.

Shadowdale girls are like bells in a tower,
They wait untill Matins for one with the power,
And each of them hopes,
For one who pulls the ropes,
To Come round again and ring them each hour.

Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over that's what I say, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, I like it that way.

Now a Sembian girl is all well and nice,
Sweeter than honey and colder than ice,
But it's easy to stop her ,
With a few coins of copper,
And watch her bend over in search of your vice.

Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over that's what I say, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, I like it that way.


There were two old women and they sat in the sand,
Each of them wished the other was a man,
And if wishes were horses,
I'd ride off with more verses,
But for now, this is all of this song I can stand!

Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over that's what I say, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, Roll your leg over, I like it that way.

Roll your leg over
I
Like it
That
WAY!
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
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Ogregrim
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A Love Song for the Seasons

Post by Ogregrim »

Renunzio Buonofortuna: And never let it yet be proved, that bardic heart could not be moved, by those who suffer to be loved.*begins to play a slow sweet melody*

When Spring awakens, once again,
And spreads her flowers across the plain,
When songbirds trill, neath cloudy sky,
We shall know love, my love and I.

When Summer drapes, her kerchief green,
And trout leap silver in the stream,
To chase the lazing dragonfly,
We shall know love, My love and I.

When Autumns colours brightly blaze,
And mornings glisten in foggy haze,
The geese in unison southward fly,
We whall know love, My love and I.

When Winter's white and downy cape,
And hillsides sleep neath the snow she'll drape,
When the trees, save fir, do sleeping lie,
We shall know love, my love and I.

The seasons come, In Pageantry,
Each with it's charms and finery,
The seasons come, we know not why,
But we know love, My love and I.


*slowly fades the Melody*
Last edited by Ogregrim on Sun Sep 23, 2007 3:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
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Ogregrim
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Boiron's Cleaver

Post by Ogregrim »

OF Boiron Hammertongs I'll sing,
And give to you good reckoning,
Of deeds whose memories remain,
Among many a noble dwarven thane.

In Mount Uzkir his furnace he set,
Amidst slate halls all lined with jet,
And from the molten stone within,
His smithcraft fine he did begin.

A blade he forged of Mithril ore,
Folded thirty times of more,
With Billows manned by stout dwarf backs,
The blade he forged to make an axe.

An axe inlaid with enamel working,
Forged to rend and never shirking,
In the haft, with diamonds blue,
He weighted the blade till it swung full true.

The craftsmanship was beyond question,
And to set a price was beyond suggestion,
Boiron's Cleaver it was named,
And soon it's work was full well famed.

Till came a troll King to Mount Uzkir,
Spreading hatred, doubt and fear,
Demanding The Cleaver as tribute high,
That his horrid horde Uzkir should pass by.

But Boiron laughed in the old Troll's face,
Spat and said, "This forge you'll not disgrace,
Get you gone with your greedy grumblings,
Ere I send your armies stumbling!"

The Trollking railed and roared and cried,
"My tribute I'll not be denied!"
He set his armies to the fray,
Amidst the wetwork and the spray.

They beat their fists against the walls,
Pounded portcullis till echoed the halls,
But Dwarven stonework does not fail,
Even when put to a troll's travail.

Then Boiron challenged the Trollking fairly,
To face each other and battle squarely,
And if to the challenge he would rise,
Boiron's Cleaver would be the prize.

The two met outside Uzkir's gate,
Boiron clad in rage, and the Troll in hate,
While shields were pounded by the armies gathered,
The dwarves did cheer while the troll horde slathered.

The Troll and dwarf did mightily clash,
With roar and howl and claw and slash,
Blow after blow did downwad rain,
And the stones drank deep of the dark red stain.

The Trollking with a stealthy sweep,
Unfooted Boiron in a heap,
And towering over Boiron rose,
Prepared to deliver the last of the blows.

When from under the Troll the Axe did rise,
Cleaving his bowels up to his eyes,
And Boiron called, from on the ground,
"Ye daft bugger, I can take you while lying down!"

The gathered trolls took to retreat,
Seeing their king in low defeat,
And Boiron took his Cleaver Home,
To Uzkir's mountain halls of stone.
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
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Ogregrim
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Memorial Song

Post by Ogregrim »

Renunzio Buonofortuna: *sits down heavily, under the weight of the mandolin*
Renunzio Buonofortuna: *begins to play*
Adellie Leonsen: *smiles a bit wanely at him*
Renunzio Buonofortuna: *sings*
Laurelin: *hugs knees, resting her chin*
Adellie Leonsen: *blinks*
Laurelin: *eyes look up to Elminster*
Elminster: *sets a flower and a small pot of tea down on the grass*

In the hills, I hear the lark still singing,
And in the east, the sun each morn doth rise,
But in my heart, I still feel such a stinging,
For ne'er again shall I look into thine eyes.

In the meadow, flowers still are blooming,
In the Ashaba silver trout still rise,
And yet I still feel my sorrow looming,
For ne'er again may I look in thine eyes.

In Cormanthor, still the winds are blowing,
Whispering to leaves their secrets deep and wise,
But no secret seems to me still worth knowing,
For ne'er agian may I look into thine eyes.

And still the world will turn to a tomorrow,
The road rolls on, before me here it lies,
But still my steps are heavy in my sorrow,
For no more may I look into thine eyes.


*softly lets his hand fall from the strings*
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
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Ogregrim
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Ain't It the Way?

Post by Ogregrim »

It's all a mess, they tell me,
For the locals all agree,
That you can't have elven lasses
Going on a killing spree...
Sure she says it's for the common good,
Though it may well end in war,
They're scraping up the bodies
Of the dwarves off of the floor.

It's a bad thing,
It's a foul thing,
It's a bloody blooming shame,
Elves get away with murder,
While we Hin still take the blame.

They say she is a youngster,
And she has much yet to learn,
But there'll be no more in lessons
For those that she may burn,
She looks to solve her problems
With a quick and easy spell,
But my gaffer always told me,
That's the surest way to hell.

It's a bad thing,
It's a foul thing,
It's a bloody, blooming shame,
The Elf gets away with murder,
While the hin still take the blame.

It only goes to show you,
And I must say I'm appaled,
That they'll make short shrift of short folk
But they'll all excuse the tall,
It's the same the whole world over,
And I know that it sounds crass,
But you get away with murder
If you show some tits and ass.

It's a bad thing,
It's a foul thing,
It's a bloody, blooming shame,
The Elf gets away with murder,
But the hin shoulders the blame.
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
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wvincenti
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Post by wvincenti »

*tosses flowers at the stage, laughing*

:-)

-Bill
  • Currently NWN1 ALFA: Ryld Ky'bler
    Currently NWN2: Gwindor Faelivrin, still not actually dead!

    Formerly: Timyin Tim, Glorfindel Inglorion and Beleg Thalionestel amongst others.
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Ogregrim
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Lullabye for the Departed

Post by Ogregrim »

Sleep in peace, oh strangers,
Sleep in peace, oh friends,
Sleep in peace, in sweet release,
Now your roads have reached their ends.

Sleep and dream, you departed,
Sleep and dream, you who have gone,
Sleep and dream, In death's misty stream,
Now that your time here is done.

Sleep and be easy, oh, ladies,
Sleep and be easy, Good men,
Sleep and be easy, may the dreaming well please ye,
Sleep now and let all sorrows end.
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
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psycho_leo
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Post by psycho_leo »

Beautiful and sad. Thumbs up sir.
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ravin
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Post by ravin »

...wow, you've been busy in my absence. i'm sorry to have missed all this. Really have missed you guys!
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<Maxcell> as I was saying, nobody steps on a virtual crotch like Ravin
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