Songs of the People (7)

[Ladellon]

The Fall of Ladellon

The patrons of the Arm turned heads,
Reacting to the sound
Of news born by a winded scout,
“Ol’ Laddy’s on the ground!”

With ne’er a thought, a dwarf arose,
Gripped axe and slightly frowned.
“None can stay Kakur’s vengence when
Ol’ Laddy’s on the ground.”

And those who’d heard the minstrel’s songs,
Joined dwarf, now outward bound,
Intending to confirm news of,
‘Ol’ Laddy’s on the ground.’

South on the trail from Thunderstone
Is where, the bard, they found.
“’Tis true,” the dwarf said solemnly,
“Ol’ Laddy’s on the ground.”

Then bugbear hordes that slew their friend
Came charging o’er the ground,
While Kakur raised his battle cry,
“Ol’ Laddy’s on the ground!”

Heedless of risk, the dwarf fell to
Laid bugbears in a mound,
And shouted to his brave cohorts,
“Get Laddy from the ground!”

The rescue of the bard’s remains
Will surely be renowned
As well those who responded to
“Ol’ Laddy’s on the ground.”


Hordor! Hordor!

Hordor, Hordor. *merrily*
Hordor, Hordor. *merrily*
*pausing slightly, then alarmed*
Hordor! Hordor! Hordor!
*playing harp faster*
Hordor!
*faster*
Hordor!
*strikes harp sharply*
Hordor!
*strikes harp sharply three more times*
Hordor! Hordor! Hordor!
Horrrrdoooooorrr!
*wipes brow and heaves a large sigh*
Hordor, Hordor. *merrily*
Hordor, Hordor. *merrily*
Hordor, Hordor. *merrily, fading*


D.W.A.R.F.

Good citizens, I do impore,
When you depart hence to explore,
you endeavor to not ignore
Our dwarven friend or he’ll remorse.

For he has organized a cause
Aiming to augment canine laws.
I name it here without a pause -
Dain’s Wolf Adoption Relief Force!

Teeth and claws!
Fur and paws!
Consider in the wood!
Canine royalty!
Eternal loyalty!
The wolf’s misunderstood!

Call them mongrels or call them curs,
So long as you don’t hurt them sirs,
It’s known our good dwarf, Dain, prefers
You keep away from them, of course.

And so if you come on a pack,
It’s hoped that you do not attack.
Instead, bring information baaaaaack . . .
To Dain’s Wolf Adoption Relief Force!


Once They’ve Been Found (Ode to Grumm Dungarbin)

O’er snow-swept plains a bard once trod
To Battlehammer Hall,
A dwarf there to converse with and
Compose a song for all.

Arriving at the sturdy gates
And passing guards on high,
He called on Grumm Dungarbin’s name
And heard this firm reply . . .

He’s gone t’find his kinsmen,
Traversing sacred ground,
Together with his mighty axe.
He’ll rest once they’ve been found!

Emboldened by this frank acclaim
Of one of the dwarves’ own
The bard sought to accumulate
The tales of Grumm’s renown.

So off he went, first to the north,
To the barbarian king
And wherever the bard inquired,
He heard the tribesmen sing . . .

He’s gone t’find his kinsmen,
Traversing sacred ground,
Together with his mighty axe.
He’ll rest once they’ve been found!

Then on to taverns in the towns
The ten towns ‘round the lake
Where bard discovered that he was
Always in ol’ Grumm’s wake.

He’d missed the dwarf again, it seemed,
Grumm left to fight a horde
And when, at Wulf’s, bard boldly asked
The folks there fairly roared:

He’s gone t’find his kinsmen,
Traversing sacred ground,
Together with his mighty axe.
He’ll rest once they’ve been found!

Then, late one eve, a stalwart group
Of Grumm’s companions met,
The bard, encouraged, asked of them -
They answered with regret.

Our friend . . . our comrade, Grumm the dwarf,
Was felled in Sunderhelme.
A finer warrior you’ll not find
Tho’ you search all the Realms.

He battled ogres and ice trolls
To make safe all the North
And all the while sought his lost kin
Each time he sallied forth.

Ales all around were lifted up
To Grumm’s steadfast campaign
And then they all together sang
A last, reverent refrain

Oh, he’s gone t’join his kinsmen,
Interred in sacred ground
Together with his mighty axe.
He’ll rest now they’ve been found!

Oh, ol’ Grumm has found his kinsmen,
He’s joined their sacred ground
Together with his mighty axe . . .
He’ll rest now they’ve been foooooound!


The Silver Siren of Luiren

Washed ashore when just a babe,
The vessel’s wreckage ‘round me.
No happier spot could I have picked –
For it was hin that found me.

Those sheltered lands beneath the sea -
The Sea of Grass - became my home.
The days did blissfully pass by
Until I felt the call to roam.

The Silver Siren of Luiren
I’m known to those who’ve wand’ring been
Across the deserts and the moors
To set their feet upon hin shores.

My pater long before my birth
Traversed Faerun with restive heart
He always knew just where to end
But not always where he should start.

And like he from our dear homeland
I wander ‘neath the open skies.
And sing of tales from o’er the seas
Some full of truth, some full of lies.

The Silver Siren of Luiren
I’m known to those who’ve wand’ring been
Across the deserts and the moors
To set their feet upon hin shores.

Oh, just a poor, wayfaring minstrel
Stands before you as she sings.
But I’d trade all that that is worth
For a hand of bejeweled rings. *holds hand before her admiringly*

So tell your tales and I’ll sing mine -
Together we’ll sort fact and farce
And we’ll grow wealthy at our quests
Or at the least kick some orc arse!

The Silver Siren of Luiren
I’m known to those who’ve wand’ring been
Across the deserts and the moors
To set their feet upon hin shores.


Kaylee’s Fine Devices

Attention please, now listen chaps,
Whilst I proceed to sing of traps . . .

I hear the good advice is
Use Kaylee’s Fine Devices
Whether be wolves, goblins or bears
Or minotaurs - who cares, who cares!
If you but learn to use her snares . . .

No better sound will e’er be found
Or be more apt than, “help, I’m trapped,”
If you, alone, face the unknown
And find yourself outnumbered
And thoroughly encumbered.

Just set a snare . . .
And let them dare . . .
A path to you they ought to shun
But yet toward you they still may run
And that is when you will observe
That Kaylee’s Fine Devices deserve
The honor of being named . . .
The best in all Faerun!


Bash'r Koll

As I was out a walkin'
An' singin' a jolly tune
I came upon a trey o' chaps
That nearly made me swoon.

T'were two the size o' children
An' one built like a troll.
I'd nearly run from two halflings
An' massive Bash'r Koll.

Oh, all day I could extole
The finer traits of Bash'r Koll!
Suffice t'say it's nice t'day
T'meet an' greet an' walk the street
With good ol' Bash'r Koll!