MossyMorel
Merchant
These are songs and poems written by Joakim the Bard. He sings them at various taverns and events throughout Altera alongside his usual repertoire.
DISCLAIMER: Joakim is a young, dumb, foolhardy young man - these songs reflect his sensibilities and not mine. Some will be bawdy, others distasteful. You are more than welcome to tell him so in RP!
1. Commissioned by Cymic and debuted for Alison Kane and Brennard Westmay (Cymic_ ).
A crude parody of courtly ballads.
2. A retelling of this event.
Written as a Beowulf-style epic, suitable for high-class events.
3. Heard being sung by Jo as he travels the continent (usually near, in, or on the way to a pub).
A raucous, bouncy drinking song.
4. Written in the pub after this event.
A sea shanty, written so that the chorus is sung by a group, and each verse is improvised by a single member of the group.
5. Written for Melarue and performed at this event (Elz).
A simple and heartfelt ballad about home.
DISCLAIMER: Joakim is a young, dumb, foolhardy young man - these songs reflect his sensibilities and not mine. Some will be bawdy, others distasteful. You are more than welcome to tell him so in RP!
1. Commissioned by Cymic and debuted for Alison Kane and Brennard Westmay (Cymic_ ).
A crude parody of courtly ballads.
My Lady, can’st thou ‘member well the day,
On which thy precious port was took; three-way?
By flanking thrusts from Wise, twas quite the scene,
While Stoltfar’s men did yours a deed obscene!
How crude a taking was in store that day,
That, as witness, it did enrage Westmay!
Indeed; Dominion was the fate of yours,
When enemies did impregnate Queensport.
On which thy precious port was took; three-way?
By flanking thrusts from Wise, twas quite the scene,
While Stoltfar’s men did yours a deed obscene!
How crude a taking was in store that day,
That, as witness, it did enrage Westmay!
Indeed; Dominion was the fate of yours,
When enemies did impregnate Queensport.
2. A retelling of this event.
Written as a Beowulf-style epic, suitable for high-class events.
The crystal waters whisper, “Do not go!
For death with sure and steady pace will know
That six trespassers on His shore have tread,
To meet and match the endless, creeping Dead.
Go back; retreat; cut through the sea to home,
Don’t stay to die on cursed shores alone.”
Heedless, we six voyagers docked late,
Unloading barrelled provisions and crates.
The aged, sunken sun gave light to see
Slant-shadows; dancing souls of crooked trees.
Our camp established, our crewmen all aboard,
‘Twas then I saw, with frightful eyes, the horde.
“Dark shapes beneath the dusky waters, there!”
And all about the camp commotion flared.
The Dwarf among us, named as Kublai Kull
Leapt up and pointed near the docked ship’s hull.
“O’ aye, them buggers surely be undead…
I’ll cut ‘em down, I’ll part ‘em from their heads!”
From the sea they came, a shambling mass.
With fear and wonder I was frozen fast.
“Away! Inland!” An armoured knight cried out,
And broke my spell of fright; I turned about
To run, but up on craggy hillside, see!
More shapes were moving, stumbling, through the trees.
Maceo, the steel-clad knight, strode forth,
Away from southern sands to woodlands north.
At his side, one brave and gallant Pod,
With sword in hand, in burnished mail shod.
An archer, a swordsman, Kublai and I,
Followed close, beneath a darkened sky.
From all sides our enemies advanced,
In amongst them did our party dance,
Under hanging boughs and over rocks,
After us our rotten foes did stalk,
Their eyes a lightless pit to Skraag’s embrace,
Fuelled by hellish magic to give chase.
The hour drew on, and on the bloody field,
One by one Skraag’s broken force did yield.
Ahead of us, a voice spake through the trees,
Of eldritch nature, of sins to shake your knees.
Our knights with healed spirits leapt forwards,
Over broken bones; the beasts they slaughtered.
Into a clearing lit by pale moonlight
There stood a figure, eyes a scarlet-bright.
He looked to us, atop a lofty crag,
His blackened cloak looked in the wind, a flag.
With rasping voice intoned he to our graves,
And t’ward us surged a mass of undead slaves.
“Once more into the fray!” our party roared,
And barreled onward t’ward the murderous horde.
The Archer loosed arrow after arrow,
To thin the growing, moving, lifeless barrow.
We carved a path through guts and blood and more,
We stained the earth, we drenched it with their gore.
‘Till suddenly we faced the man alone.
Beneath the cloak he looked as thin as bone.
He raised a hand, no doubt to curse us dead,
But Maceo removed the helmet from his head,
And drew a shimmering blade, in look divine,
Said Maceo, “The pleasure will be mine.”
And from the hell-black sky there fell a light.
A roar of heav’nly flame - a wrathful smite!
And as the incandescent pillar raged,
We knew Fate’s heavy tome had turn’d a page.
For when the Godly blaze had left the earth,
Of Skraag’s servant and his slaves; a dearth.
For death with sure and steady pace will know
That six trespassers on His shore have tread,
To meet and match the endless, creeping Dead.
Go back; retreat; cut through the sea to home,
Don’t stay to die on cursed shores alone.”
Heedless, we six voyagers docked late,
Unloading barrelled provisions and crates.
The aged, sunken sun gave light to see
Slant-shadows; dancing souls of crooked trees.
Our camp established, our crewmen all aboard,
‘Twas then I saw, with frightful eyes, the horde.
“Dark shapes beneath the dusky waters, there!”
And all about the camp commotion flared.
The Dwarf among us, named as Kublai Kull
Leapt up and pointed near the docked ship’s hull.
“O’ aye, them buggers surely be undead…
I’ll cut ‘em down, I’ll part ‘em from their heads!”
From the sea they came, a shambling mass.
With fear and wonder I was frozen fast.
“Away! Inland!” An armoured knight cried out,
And broke my spell of fright; I turned about
To run, but up on craggy hillside, see!
More shapes were moving, stumbling, through the trees.
Maceo, the steel-clad knight, strode forth,
Away from southern sands to woodlands north.
At his side, one brave and gallant Pod,
With sword in hand, in burnished mail shod.
An archer, a swordsman, Kublai and I,
Followed close, beneath a darkened sky.
From all sides our enemies advanced,
In amongst them did our party dance,
Under hanging boughs and over rocks,
After us our rotten foes did stalk,
Their eyes a lightless pit to Skraag’s embrace,
Fuelled by hellish magic to give chase.
The hour drew on, and on the bloody field,
One by one Skraag’s broken force did yield.
Ahead of us, a voice spake through the trees,
Of eldritch nature, of sins to shake your knees.
Our knights with healed spirits leapt forwards,
Over broken bones; the beasts they slaughtered.
Into a clearing lit by pale moonlight
There stood a figure, eyes a scarlet-bright.
He looked to us, atop a lofty crag,
His blackened cloak looked in the wind, a flag.
With rasping voice intoned he to our graves,
And t’ward us surged a mass of undead slaves.
“Once more into the fray!” our party roared,
And barreled onward t’ward the murderous horde.
The Archer loosed arrow after arrow,
To thin the growing, moving, lifeless barrow.
We carved a path through guts and blood and more,
We stained the earth, we drenched it with their gore.
‘Till suddenly we faced the man alone.
Beneath the cloak he looked as thin as bone.
He raised a hand, no doubt to curse us dead,
But Maceo removed the helmet from his head,
And drew a shimmering blade, in look divine,
Said Maceo, “The pleasure will be mine.”
And from the hell-black sky there fell a light.
A roar of heav’nly flame - a wrathful smite!
And as the incandescent pillar raged,
We knew Fate’s heavy tome had turn’d a page.
For when the Godly blaze had left the earth,
Of Skraag’s servant and his slaves; a dearth.
3. Heard being sung by Jo as he travels the continent (usually near, in, or on the way to a pub).
A raucous, bouncy drinking song.
I've wandered fer days now and I'm feckin' tired,
If it weren't for the alehouse, I would've expired!
The landlady's pretty, kind-hearted to boot,
But her husband's a lecherous, slimy old newt.
Lay my coin-purse empty,
Luck's all that I need,
I've wealth aplenty,
Fortune guaranteed.
The tavern gets heavin' it's all 'cause of her,
With mead an' ale flowing, the rest is a blur.
I might've said something unwise about newt,
'Cause the next thing I know, the git's givin' me boot.
Lay my coin-purse empty,
Luck's all that I need,
I've wealth aplenty,
Fortune guaranteed.
By the scruff of me neck, I was out in the cold,
With nary a coin, all my dignity sold.
Before me the road, behind me the past,
I'll sure need good fortune if I'm going to last!
Lay my coin-purse empty,
Luck's all that I need,
I've wealth aplenty,
Fortune guaranteed.
If it weren't for the alehouse, I would've expired!
The landlady's pretty, kind-hearted to boot,
But her husband's a lecherous, slimy old newt.
Lay my coin-purse empty,
Luck's all that I need,
I've wealth aplenty,
Fortune guaranteed.
The tavern gets heavin' it's all 'cause of her,
With mead an' ale flowing, the rest is a blur.
I might've said something unwise about newt,
'Cause the next thing I know, the git's givin' me boot.
Lay my coin-purse empty,
Luck's all that I need,
I've wealth aplenty,
Fortune guaranteed.
By the scruff of me neck, I was out in the cold,
With nary a coin, all my dignity sold.
Before me the road, behind me the past,
I'll sure need good fortune if I'm going to last!
Lay my coin-purse empty,
Luck's all that I need,
I've wealth aplenty,
Fortune guaranteed.
4. Written in the pub after this event.
A sea shanty, written so that the chorus is sung by a group, and each verse is improvised by a single member of the group.
Don't know much o' gods,
I'm an ignorant sod,
What I know is that I ain't inspired~
By Visage or Tideborne,
By threats from the highborn,
All I care is by whom I'm hired~!
So when cultists complained
about Jax and inflamed
the ire of the Lucky God's best,
An argument started,
and soon the seas parted
and let forth a tide of unrest!
So row, row ye lucky ones, row,
Think of the places we'll go,
Adventure is all that we'll know!
There'll be riches for all
As much as ye can haul
To fill up the decks down below.
But while the sun's burning,
The tides'll be turning,
So row, ye lucky ones, row.
Harsh words were exchanged
'tween the mad and deranged,
and magic was wrought to obscure~
But it wasn't enough
And as brutal rebuff
Jax unleashed violence pure!
A pole-axe to the face
Went and settled the case;
Luck's followers don't fuck about
So next time you're inclined
to mock the wrong Divine
bring friends, fuck around, and find out.
So row, row ye lucky ones, row,
Think of the places we'll go,
Adventure is all that we'll know!
There'll be ruches for all
As much as ye can haul
To fill up the decks down below.
But while the sun's burning
The tides'll be turning
So row, ye lucky ones, row.
I'm an ignorant sod,
What I know is that I ain't inspired~
By Visage or Tideborne,
By threats from the highborn,
All I care is by whom I'm hired~!
So when cultists complained
about Jax and inflamed
the ire of the Lucky God's best,
An argument started,
and soon the seas parted
and let forth a tide of unrest!
So row, row ye lucky ones, row,
Think of the places we'll go,
Adventure is all that we'll know!
There'll be riches for all
As much as ye can haul
To fill up the decks down below.
But while the sun's burning,
The tides'll be turning,
So row, ye lucky ones, row.
Harsh words were exchanged
'tween the mad and deranged,
and magic was wrought to obscure~
But it wasn't enough
And as brutal rebuff
Jax unleashed violence pure!
A pole-axe to the face
Went and settled the case;
Luck's followers don't fuck about
So next time you're inclined
to mock the wrong Divine
bring friends, fuck around, and find out.
So row, row ye lucky ones, row,
Think of the places we'll go,
Adventure is all that we'll know!
There'll be ruches for all
As much as ye can haul
To fill up the decks down below.
But while the sun's burning
The tides'll be turning
So row, ye lucky ones, row.
5. Written for Melarue and performed at this event (Elz).
A simple and heartfelt ballad about home.
When we speak of hearth and home - where we feel safe to rest,
With family or on our own, where our letters are addressed -
We often think of sturdy doors, or fires on the grate,
Homemade meals and feather beds, a civilized estate.
But home for many is the road, with nary a roof to use,
And more still find the home they have is grim and ill-abused.
I promise you, this song’s not sad, but gratitude is needed,
May each of us pay heed to Luck - in which our fortune’s seeded.
And so with humble attitudes, and generosity for the weary,
Our deeds extend beyond ourselves - or at least that’s my theory.
Our kind and gentle acts restore the roofless to their hearths,
And by so housing everyone, so all might have warm hearts.
So may your home be open, may the doors be welcome-wide,
May all road-weary trav’lers and the needy rest inside.
May the structure last forever - may the beams turn hard as stone,
May the hearth be ever burning, may you have found your home.
With family or on our own, where our letters are addressed -
We often think of sturdy doors, or fires on the grate,
Homemade meals and feather beds, a civilized estate.
But home for many is the road, with nary a roof to use,
And more still find the home they have is grim and ill-abused.
I promise you, this song’s not sad, but gratitude is needed,
May each of us pay heed to Luck - in which our fortune’s seeded.
And so with humble attitudes, and generosity for the weary,
Our deeds extend beyond ourselves - or at least that’s my theory.
Our kind and gentle acts restore the roofless to their hearths,
And by so housing everyone, so all might have warm hearts.
So may your home be open, may the doors be welcome-wide,
May all road-weary trav’lers and the needy rest inside.
May the structure last forever - may the beams turn hard as stone,
May the hearth be ever burning, may you have found your home.
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