Songs of Tottespiel

[Ogregrim]

It is the tragic byproduct of my diseased mind that I bleed verse with an alarming regularity. I do hope that in some small way that such give a modicum of pleasure. If they have not, I am at a loss, and beg that you but ignore my babbling, for I am of late unable to stem the tide of scribblings.

[Ogregrim]

The candles flicker slow and bright,
And dance the shadows of our sight,
And to join them, they invite,
Come dance, dance away all your tears.

The shadows know, but seldom tell,
That what is hidden and hidden well,
Can often all our sorrows quell,
As we dance in the arms of our fears.

When two surrender into one,
And all their partings come undone,
Amidst life's river, as it may run,
They may dance, and dance ever more.

One must but take the first of steps,
And abandon all one's false precepts,
And in the dance become adept,
Dancing to the distant lost shore.

The shadows do not the candle spurn,
Each spins and dances in its turn,
The two made one at last may learn,
That ever the tune did await.

So dance each step with gentle grace,
And look you not e'er to replace,
The steps you have taken that cannot be traced,
And let all your worries abate.

[Curmudgeon]

Bravo!
Bravo!

[Ogregrim]

Don't cry, don't cry, my darling,
Dont weep and make such a to do,
For I love you, and I've always been faithfull,
Excepting a time of two.

Like that time you left me with your sister,
And went out of town for a week,
I promise that I never kissed her,
At least not on her mouth or her cheek.

And those late evenings down at the tavern,
Not a single girl there have I known,
Just the twin sisters back in the taproom,
To insure we were never alone.

And the maid in the inn where I'm staying,
With her I've no need to confess,
For however long she may take at her cleaning,
I've never seen her fully undressed.

And that pretty young lass at the market,
The one with the elaborate tattoos,
I was only admiring the artwork,
And the whole time I was thinking of you.

And that waitress who brings me my coffee,
Who is always adjusting her slip,
I'd only enough cash for the four cups I drank,
And I never have stiffed on a tip.

So there, there dry your eyes darling,
I forgive you for your lack of trust,
You're the right girl for me all others are left,
So they never can come between us.

[Ogregrim]

The clash of blades, the cry of steell,
the scent of blood, the senses reel.
The pulse does pound, the heart does race,
the soul has found it's inner grace.

There amidst the battle cries,
The song of war is heard full well,
While one may live another dies,
The body falls an empty shell.

And yet the moment calls to mine
that all things now, someday will pass,
and through this life we stumble blind,
with hopes and dreams of wealth to amass.

But all forgotten in the fray,
The dreams, the hopes the fears that wait,
And in that moment, we sieze our day,
That all distraction may abate.

And so i sing this song of war,
That teaches us to look to now,
And fear not what tommorrow may hold in store,
But take what the will and skill allow.

[Ogregrim]

Soft steps upon the dampened stones,
Greeted by the shambling bones,
While the dock bell again intones,
The Port of Shadows beckons.

It seems that I have been away,
For one long year and one more day,
In sunbaked lands whence I did stray
Where time, by the sun one reckons.

But all my journeys have come to naught,
I did not find what I had sought,
Nor undid I what had been wrought,
For none were there there to heal me.

So discarded, ignored, and spurned,
To the Shadows once more I returned,
With this hard lesson clearly learned:
T'is the Shadows that best conceal me.

The surface world, for all its noise,
Lacked the dignity and poise,
That in the shadows one employs,
To nurture the artist's creations.

And while there did appreciate,
The works that I could yet create,
On the whole they were too insensate
To grasp artistic revelations.

So here am I where I belong,
For better or worse, for right or wrong,
To paint my pictures and sing my song,
Midst the Undermountain's thrumming.

And hard pressed shall I need to be,
To return to my past errancy,
And roam again indescriminantly
After this long awaited home-coming.

[Melody]

This song is called Captain Kinney.
*begins to play a jaunty song by plucking the strings on the harp*



Oooooooooooh!

Captain Kinney sailed away,
For forty nights and forty days,
Whatever would the captain say?
If he had only known.


The captain’s wife did busy keep,
With horses, monkeys, men, and sheep,
You had to wonder when she’d sleep!
Not often I would say.


The sailors came by twos and fours,
They shook the walls and rattled doors,
And still his wife cried out for more!
The sailors cried, “Hooray!”


The sounds sometimes still haunt my dreams,
The bleats and neighing, shouts and screams,
You’d wonder how she found the means!
To make it through each day.

When Captain Kinney came back home,
We heard him whine we heard him groan,
For the missus wanted to be left alone!
So again he sailed away.

Captain Kinney sailed away,
For forty nights and forty days,
Whatever would the captain saaaaaaaay?
If he had only known.


*plays another chorus on the instrument and bows with a grin*

[Ogregrim]

She strides the waves all clad in foam,
Beneath the heaven's azure dome,
In her hand a coral comb
For her tresses all watery green.
Through the breakers, at her heels,
A gathered throng of barking seals,
Gather fish in kelpy kreels
For the feast- table of their queen.

And in the twilight's gathered gloom,
The sea breeze carries her soft perfume,
To lure young sailors to their doom,
In search of her welcoming docks,
Towards her arms they set their sails,
Amidst the sharks and gathered whales,
As smiling sweet she summons gales,
To wrack their ships among the rocks.

As drowning sailors call out her name,
Each to her watery court she'll claim,
As calm and smiling she will remain,
The Lovely Maiden of the Sea,
Amidst the shipwrecks she calls home,
She gathers up their soggy bones,
To decorate her Ocean Throne,
For her name is Umberlee.

[Drankathar]

Yay! more!!

[Melody]

Now everyone, this is a little drinking song I picked up in the Isles. Rules of the song say ye drink every time the chorus is sung.. so fill yer tankards cause I wrote a few more verses.

*grins and raises a glass as she begins to sing*

The Toast


Drink… drink... drink till ye drown,
Raise up yer glass and I’ll buy tha next round,
Less ye want ta be sleepin’ in er’ watery bed,
Raise yer glass, say a toast.. to the Bitch Queen instead!

A man he went sailin’ my words he’d not heed,
He paid no respect to tha Bitch Queen ye see,
The storm she came blowin, the sea filled tha sky,
Twas then he was shoutin’ Umberlee, lest he die!

Drink… drink... drink till ye drown,
Raise up yer glass and I’ll buy tha next round,
Less ye want ta be sleepin’ in er’ watery bed,
Raise yer glass, say a toast.. to the Bitch Queen instead!

Now the waves they came crashin, his hull they did rend,
It pitched him and tossed him, he knew this the end,
And the last thing he said ‘afore that ship went down,
"I shoulda tossed out two coppers to buy the next round!"

Drink… drink... drink till ye drown,
Raise up yer glass and I’ll buy tha next round,
Less ye want ta be sleepin’ in er’ watery bed,
Raise yer glass, say a toast.. to the Bitch Queen instead!

An old man from the village, my words he did mock,
Three tendays ago he went down to the dock,
He pulled out his pole and cast into the surf,
When he pulled up a sahuagin he lost all his mirth.

Drink… drink... drink till ye drown,
Raise up yer glass and I’ll buy tha next round,
Less ye want ta be sleepin’ in er’ watery bed,
Raise yer glass, say a toast.. to the Bitch Queen instead!

Well he turned on his tail, and back he did race,
That sahuagin was more than that old man could face,
But there in that moment his lesson he found,
For when he got back.. he bought the next round!

Drink… drink... drink till ye drown,
Raise up yer glass and I’ll buy tha next round,
Less ye want ta be sleepin’ in er’ watery bed,
Raise yer glass, say a toast.. to the Bitch Queen instead!

One night I went walking alone on the sand,
My pockets were empty, but life was still grand,
When up from the depths came a terrible sight,
Umberlee from the deep there in the moonlight!

Drink… drink... drink till ye drown,
Raise up yer glass and I’ll buy tha next round,
Less ye want ta be sleepin’ in er’ watery bed,
Raise yer glass, say a toast.. to the Bitch Queen instead!

Well my death I was seeing when I saw her smile,
She said Lainey my lass I do like your style..
And your tribute to me has a beautiful sound,
So she gave me some pearls to buy the next round!

Drink… drink... drink till ye drown,
Raise up yer glass and I’ll buy tha next round,
Less ye want ta be sleepin’ in er’ watery bed,
Raise yer glass, say a toast.. to the Bitch Queen instead!

*the chorus is repeated loudly as everyone drains whatever alcohol is left in their tankards and bottles*

(edited to add extra verses, when two just aren't enough to do the trick!)

[Ogregrim]

I like a town with a small drop of poison,
Where nobody asks your name,
Where the people come and the people go,
And no one knows who it was that came.

I like a place with a fair bit of grime,
Where the they don't bother why you are there,
Where the drinks are cheap, and the company's easy,
And the card games, they might not be fair.

I like a rough place where they look in your face,
But they never look you right in your eyes,
Where deals are made with no strings attached,
And the promises all smack of lies.

I like a place where the mice are fat,
And the cats are too lazy to fear,
Where the smell of corruption hangs thick in the air,
And sweet songs of loss fill your ears.

I like a place that is none too clean,
But the drink is all plenty strong,
Where a ne'er do well can catch a break,
If he knows how to sing a good song.

And I like a place that won't talk of dreams,
Unless with a hint of despair,
And hope is a word they won't even whisper,
For the mere thought is too much to bear.

Give me a place, with a warm salty wench,
With an odour of booze in her kiss,
Give me a place where the music is fine,
Hell, just give me a place like this!

[Ogregrim]

Oh there's women of all shapes and sizes,
There's women both great and small,
But if you are a fan of surprises,
A dwarf maid's the best of them all.

Some like their women lanky,
Some like them sultry and tall,
But for a real taste of hanky panky,
A dwarf maid's the best of them all.

A dwarf maid is sturdy and buxom,
A dwarf maid is good in a brawl,
Ask any lad who says he ****s'em,
He'll say dwarf maids are the best of them all.

But her charms aren't just left in the boudoir,
To the kitchen she'll also heed the call,
And she'll feed you on the finest of caviar,
For a dwarf maid's the best of them all.

When I was younger, I was deluded,
And thought that I never would fall,
But a dwarf maid would not be excluded,
And proved she was the best of all.

So you can keep all you violets and lillies,
And the flowers that cling to the wall,
When it comes to the tending of willies,
OH a dwarf maid's the BEST of the ALL!

[darrenhfx]

Bravo!

[PensivesWetness]

Bravo!

been visiting TLR lately, Tottle Love?

[Melody]

Cormyrian Knights
---------------------------

In Amn the days are hot and long,
And the Dalelands in the west..
The northern mornings are bitter cold,
But Cormyian Knights are the best.

You can keep all your Sembian merchants,
Thayan wizards you’ll find by the score,
But if you want a great day, look for purple and grey,
‘Cause they know what chivalry’s for.

In Amn the days are hot and long,
And the Dalelands in the west..
The northern mornings are bitter cold,
But Cormyian Knights are the best.

Oh the djinns keep it hot out in Calimshan,
And the sailors on the beach in the Isles,
But the ladies know best, ‘cause its better out West.
You can always tell that by our smiles.

In Amn the days are hot and long,
And the Dalelands in the west..
The northern mornings are bitter cold,
But Cormyian Knights are the best.

Well the dwarves are quite burly in Icewindale,
In Silverymoon you can dance with a bard,
If you want a strong man, take a knight by the hand,
‘Cause it’s more than their armor that’s hard!

In Amn the days are hot and long,
And the Dalelands in the west..
The northern mornings are bitter cold,
But Cormyian Knights are the best.

Ooooh, Cormyrian Knights are the best!