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If you've
been warned enough, read these reviews!
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"I gave it to my wife on
her birthday and she loved it!"
-- Edmund Maggot, Ciosa
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"I can no longer leave
mine out in public as the choir were forever fingering through it. I have
taken to hiding it under my robes, but I must confess, however, to laying
it out on my papers during sermons and amusing myself during prayers. If
only the congregation knew what tittilates me so!"
-- Preacher Obidiah Winkle |
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JAKKA'S
TAVERNA
by THAROC
WARGRIDER
I met you, in Jakka’s Taverna,
You looked so mournful and sad,
So I said with a wink, “Let me buy you a drink,
And perhaps things won’t seem so bad.”
You ordered a large R’unorian brandy, then Vhodkha, then wine to take home,
And then as I bought it,
I suddenly thought,
“It’s small wonder that you’re on your own.”
Then you took me, across town to your rooms,
My eagerness I could not hide,
When you walked ‘cross the floor, and you locked the front door,
Why did you leave me outside?
So I came down, and I sang ‘neath your window,
From midnight until gone half after three,
Oh Lady pray tell me, dear Lady please tell me,
What was it you emptied on me?
I came down, to Jakka’s Taverna,
In search of the love of my life,
And I gave you my heart, but now we must part,
For I’m going back to my wife.
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JOHLDULF
AND GERTILD
by THAROC
WARGRIDER
Little Johldulf was playing in the orchard one day,
Playing with a pack of Four House,
When into the orchard came little Gertild,
Carrying a white Fuzzle mouse.
"I've got some o' them", Johldulf said,
Gert said "No you've not."
She said "Alright then, I bet you a bag of chocolate Prezzers,
I've got everything that you've got."
So Johldulf took off his little wooly jerkin and laid his belly-dimple bare,
And as he stood up, standing, he said,
"I bet you've not got one of them there."
"Oh yes I have", she lifted up her vest,
"Yes I have." said Gert,
"But the only difference between mine and yours,
is mine isn't covered with dirt."
So Johldulf took off his little pair of breeches,
And showed her what lay beneath,
When Gertild saw she hadn't got one she was overcome with grief.
She dropped her mouse, ran into the house, shouting for her mum,
She said "Johldulf's got something growing under his breeches,
and mummy I haven't got one."
Ten minutes later she came out of the house,
She didn't make a sound,
Little Johldulf was jumping, bursting with pride, waving his thing around.
She said "it's alright, Johl, I know you've won,
but I don't really mind,
because my mummy says as long as I've got one of these here,
I can get one of them anytime."
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FRUITFUL
HARVEST
by
ALYSSE
THE LIKELY
As I walked out late in the morn, t’was on a Harven
day,
And all the farmers working hard, to reap the summer’s hay
I saw a fair maid running, her skirts in disarray,
A-fleeing from a Cattrel hound, she could not get away.
I shouldered up my sturdy staff and to her side I sped
And as the hound approached us two I struck him ‘cross the head
Then he did flee the scene a-yelping, like to raise the dead
The maid did sink into my arms and followed where I led.
“Oh, sir,” cried she, “I thank you so, that you did make him fly!
With such a staff, so long and hard, the which you did apply,
So skilfully…” “Well, now my dear,” I gently made reply,
“Such skill comes from experience, and much of that have I.”
I brought her in the field to rest and sat her in the wheat.
I chafed her hands, I kissed her lips, that were so very sweet,
So quickly to my touch she warmed, from head to dainty feet,
That soon the pretty maid and I with Etherus did meet.
( This stanza, depending on the intoxication levels of the crowd,
is usually followed with enthusiastic cheers, whilst a brief instrumental is
played.)
So, in the field we laid a while and there did sport and play,
And as to our conclusion there, well, this much will I say,
Although it was a maiden fair I led into the hay,
No maid did leave the field with me, though two folk walked away!
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DANCE
OF LOVE
by
ALYSSE
THE LIKELY
Love-dancing here, now, you and I
Caught up in pleasure-touching-fire
Soft kisses, tensely curving fingers
trace our desire.
We touch extremes of tender loving
with joy that's deep, but rarely still.
Down-soft love and stone-strong passion
both drive our will.
Oh, sweet strong force! It drives us on
with all the strength of Sur'tyan
And in that glorious consumnation
Two become one.
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HOT
GOLDEN
RAIN
TOAST
by THAROC
WARGRIDER
When Jannatan Koopar came home from class,
He started to cry and to cry.
He cried and he cried for nearly three weeks,
And his mam started wondering why.
"What ails you, young Jann?", his mother did ask,
"Hast been caught peeing up th' midden wall again?
Or has Master Septicknuckles given you th' stick,
Fer playin' at swords with yer quill-pen?"
"No, it's nuffin like that, mam", Jannatan said,
"It's all got to do wiv me willy."
"We were measurin' em in't woods, like,
just after class, an' mine were so small it looked silly."
"Right," said his mam, "down to th' druids we'll go,
and some of his spells we shall borrow,
I reckon he'll make it grow long right away,
you'll be trippin' over th' beggar t'morrow."
Well, next morning at the druids Jann showed his complaint,
It was certainly nothing to boast,
And the druid at first thought he'd sprouted a worm,
And then he prescribed Jann, hot toast.
"HOT TOAST!", said his ma, "Have you gone raving mad?
It's his willy that's lacking you twit!
Just look at the poor little thing, hanging there,
Why, at tea-time I ate bigger neep-chips!"
"It's a common complaint, Mistress Koopar," he said,
"And mostly from men, don't you know,
But nature has found the best cure of all,
Because hot Gold-rain toast makes them grow."
When next morning for fast-break young Janna came down,
He looked like he'd just seen a ghost,
For on every platter, and piled high up to the roof,
Were hundreds of pieces of toast.
"I can't eat all them, mam," Jannatan said,
And his face it grew mournful and sad,
"It's alright, dear, there's only two slices for you,
The rest of 'em's all fer yer dad."
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THE
KUATU'S
HOLE
by THAROC
WARGRIDER
A traditional drinking song of Sarvonian hunters.
I stuck my weapon in the kuatu's hole,
The kuatu said "The Gods bless my soul,
Pull it out, pull it out, pull it out,
Remove it!"
I removed my weapon from the kuatu's hole,
The kuatu said "The Gods bless my soul,
Put it back, put it back, put it back,
Replace it!"
I replaced my weapon in the kuatu's hole,
The kuatu said "The Gods bless my soul,
Turn it round, turn it round, turn it round,
Revolve it!"
I rotated my weapon in the kuatu's hole,
The kuatu said "The Gods bless my soul,
Turn it back, turn it back, turn it back,
Reverse it!"
I reversed my weapon in the kuatu's hole,
The kuatu said "The Gods bless my soul,
Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth,
Reciprocate it!"
I reciprocated my weapon in the kuatu's hole,
The kuatu said "The Gods bless my soul,
Pull it out, pull it out, pull it out,
Retract it!"
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OLD
CAPTAIN
FOKE
by THAROC
WARGRIDER
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A traditional Northern Sarvonian reavers drinking
song regarding the exploits of Captain "Cod-piece" Foke, a notoriuos
Sarvonian reaver and infamous debaucher of women. Each reaver must sing a
verse in turn, taking a drink of ale after each mention of his verse
during the song. Anyone who forgets or repeats a verse must buy the next
round of drinks. There are many more verses than are presented here,
allowing the song, and the drinking, to go on for hours! |
Old Cap'n Foke was a lusty old soak, and a lusty old
soak was he.
He took a mans wife in the middle of the night,
Then he called for his fiddlers three.
Now every fiddler had a very fine bow, and a very fine bow had he.
"Rub it up and down, up and down" said the fiddlers,
"What merry men are we. There's none so fair as can compare,
to the boys of the northern seas."
Old Cap'n Foke was a lusty old soak, and a lusty old soak was he.
He took a mans wife wife in the middle of the night,
Then he called for his tailors three.
Now every tailor had a very fine needle, and a very fine needle had he.
"Stick it in and out, in and out" said the tailors,
"Rub it up and down, up and down" said the fiddlers,
"What merry men are we. There's none so fair as can compare,
To the boys of the northern seas."
Old Cap'n Foke was a lusty old soak, and a lusty old soak was he.
He took a mans wife in the middle of the night,
Then he called for his jugglers three.
Now every juggler had very fine balls, and very fine balls had he.
"Throw 'em in the air, in the air" said the jugglers,
"Stick it in and out, in and out" said the tailors,
"Rub it up and down, up and down" said the fiddlers,
"What merry men are we. There's none so fair as can compare,
To the boys of the northern seas."
Old Cap'n Foke was a lusty old soak, and a lusty old soak was he.
He took a mans wife in the middle of the night,
Then he called for his swordsmen three.
Now every swordsman had a very fine weapon, and a very fine weapon had he.
"Hold it in both hands, wave it 'round" said the swordsmen,
"Throw 'em in the air, in the air" said the jugglers,
"Stick it in and out, in and out" said the tailors,
"Rub it up and down, up and down" said the fiddlers,
"What merry men are we. There's none so fair as can compare,
To the boys of the northern seas."
Old Cap'n Foke was a lusty old soak, and a lusty old soak was he.
He took a mans wife in the middle of the night,
Then he called for his butchers three.
Now every butcher had a very fine chopper, and a very fine chopper had he.
"Shall I cut some off the end, off the end" said the butchers,
"Hold it in both hands, wave it 'round" said the swordsmen,
"Throw 'em in the air, in the air" said the jugglers,
"Stick it in and out, in and out" said the tailors,
"Rub it up and down, up and down" said the fiddlers,
"What merry men are we. There's none so fair as can compare,
To the boys of the northern seas."
Old Cap'n Foke was a lusty old soak, and a lusty old soak was he.
He took a mans wife in the middle of the night,
Then he called for his horsemen three.
Now every horseman had a very fine mount, and a very fine mount had he.
"Ride it up and down, up and down" said the horsemen,
"Shall I cut some off the end, off the end" said the butchers,
"Hold it in both hands, wave it 'round" said the swordsmen,
"Throw 'em in the air, in the air" said the jugglers,
"Stick it in and out, in and out" said the tailors,
"Rub it up and down, up and down" said the fiddlers,
"What merry men are we. There's none so fair as can compare,
To the boys of the northern seas."
Old Cap'n Foke was a lusty old soak, and a lusty old soak was he.
He took a mans wife in the middle of the night,
Then he called for his watchmen three.
Now every watchman had a very fine truncheon, and a very fine truncheon had he.
"Wear it down your leg, down your leg" said the watchmen,
"Ride it up and down, up and down" said the horsemen,
"Shall I cut some off the end, off the end" said the butchers,
"Hold it in both hands, wave it 'round" said the swordsmen,
"Throw 'em in the air, in the air" said the jugglers,
"Stick it in and out, in and out" said the tailors,
"Rub it up and down, up and down" said the fiddlers,
"What merry men are we. There's none so fair as can compare,
To the boys of the northern seas."
Old Cap'n Foke was a lusty old soak, and a lusty old soak was he.
He took a mans wife in the middle of the night,
Then he called for his huntsmen three.
Now every huntsman had a very fine horn, and a very fine horn had he.
"Come and blow my horn, blow my horn" said the huntsmen,
"Wear it down your leg, down your leg" said the watchmen,
"Ride it up and down, up and down" said the horsemen,
"Shall I cut some off the end, off the end" said the butchers,
"Hold it in both hands, wave it 'round" said the swordsmen,
"Throw 'em in the air, in the air" said the jugglers,
"Stick it in and out, in and out" said the tailors,
"Rub it up and down, up and down" said the fiddlers,
"What merry men are we. There's none so fair as can compare,
To the boys of the northern seas."
Old Cap'n Foke was a lusty old soak, and a lusty old soak was he.
He took a mans wife in the middle of the night,
Then he called for his sawbones three.
Now every sawbones had a very fine blade, and a very fine blade had he.
"I'll have to cut it off, cut it off" said the sawbones,
"Come and blow my horn, blow my horn" said the huntsmen,
"Wear it down your leg, down your leg" said the watchmen,
"Ride it up and down, up and down" said the horsemen,
"Shall I cut some off the end, off the end" said the butchers,
"Hold it in both hands, wave it 'round" said the swordsmen,
"Throw 'em in the air, in the air" said the jugglers,
"Stick it in and out, in and out" said the tailors,
"Rub it up and down, up and down" said the fiddlers,
"What merry men are we. There's none so fair as can compare,
To the boys of the northern seas."
Old Cap'n Foke was a lusty old soak, and a lusty old soak was he.
He took a mans wife in the middle of the night,
Then he called for his bowmen three.
Now every bowman had a very fine arrow, and a very fine arrow had he.
"Take aim and release, then relax" said the bowmen,
"I'll have to cut it off, cut it off" said the sawbones,
"Come and blow my horn, blow my horn" said the huntsmen,
"Wear it down your leg, down your leg" said the watchmen,
"Ride it up and down, up and down" said the horsemen,
"Shall I cut some off the end, off the end" said the butchers,
"Hold it in both hands, wave it 'round" said the swordsmen,
"Throw 'em in the air, in the air" said the jugglers,
"Stick it in and out, in and out" said the tailors,
"Rub it up and down, up and down" said the fiddlers,
"What merry men are we. There's none so fair as can compare,
To the boys of the northern seas."
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AND
NOW
FOR SOME
LYMERYCKS... |
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Her's a lymeryck provided by Alysse (who, some might say, knows her way
around these verses a good deal more than she would publicly confess):
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by
ALYSSE
THE LIKELY
A Santhalan lass, fair of face
Found her bodice was too tight to lace
Her ma cried “Now, come!”
“There’s more in your tum,
than that which went in by your face!"
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Time now for a brace of
short-rhymes from the quill of Druadán. - This first will be familiar to
all those who have fallen foul of the monthly vagaries of a woman's
temper! |
by DRUADÁN
On the moors Banwa walked in a daze
At the Silarna she'd growl in a haze
But her unworried friend
Knew all would soon mend
For once a month she goes through this phase.
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The second of Druadás
offerings will bring to mind the unsettling effects the sight of not just
a beautiful female, but of any female, has on the body during a certain
period of youth! |
There was a young fellow who was often caught,
And of him his parents were very distraught,
For whenever he'd pass,
A presentable lass,
The front of his pants would advance a whole lot.
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THE
BOAT
SONG
by THAROC
WARGRIDER
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This next song is traditionally sung without music,
and in a respectful, sombre manner, as befits its sensitive subject
matter. Thanks must go to Masterbard Judith of Bardavos for her invaluable
help in researching and translating this song. |
While sailing in a boat going west,
Flooding bilges put our courage to the test,
For our captain told us right there and then,
That to save us all, we'd to sacrifice three men.
So for volunteers then the captain did call,
And the three who stood up surely saved us all,
A Kurakim, Caltharian, Cyrathrhim as well,
Of their untold courage, no tongue can tell.
The Kurakim stood by the rail on the 'fore,
He deserves our thanks, our gratitude and more,
A warrior who's courage could not be in doubt,
He shouted, "Corunvil bless the Kalern", and threw himself out.
With the boat sinking fast came the Caltharians turn,
A lesson in bravery for us all to learn,
Another who's courage could not be in doubt,
He shouted,"Carmalad forever", and threw himself out.
A candledrip before the boat would sink beneath the sea,
The Cyrathrhim stood proudly up, and a fine tall elf was he,
"I do this for my people, and the Aellenrhim braves,
Remember the Calmarios!" and hurled an orc into the waves.
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A-MAKING
HAY
WHILE
THE SUN
SHINETH
by
BARD
JUDITH
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And now, we are honoured indeed to present a lusty
tune from Masterbard Judith of Bardavos herself. A tale of simple country
folk whiling away the hours on the way to market. |
T’was on a lovely Jeystar’s morn I drove my cart one
day,
Towards the Simsy market, where I would sell my hay,
And at the Grensa Bridge I saw, a-sitting all forlorn,
A lad so tall and muscular , as stout as any born.
As stout as any born, aye, stout as any born,
She saw the lad a-sitting there, and looking all forlorn!
I looked him up, I looked him down, I offered him a ride,
I told him he could choose the hay, or sit by me beside.
He said he’d gladly come with me, and up he swiftly rose,
But climbing to the waggon-seat I fear he tore his hose.
We fear he tore his hose, my dears, we fear he tore his hose,
In all his eagerness to mount, so swiftly up he rose!
He said that for two sans he’d surely trade a buss with me,
And tipped his top towards my cheek, and down my front looked he.
I told him nay, for I’d no coin – crest-fall’n he turned away,
But wait, said I, till market time, and selling of my hay!
Oh selling of the hay, we’ll go selling of the hay,
So bide your time, my sturdy lad, and turn you not away!
He thought a while, we joggéd on, the sun shone brightly down,
And I was fain to rest a while, ere we reached Simsy town.
So I did pull the dobbin in, under a shady tree,
And bade him lie and ease his head, and pass the time with me.
She bade him ease his head a while, she bade him ease his head,
A quiet place out of the sun, or so our farmlass said…
He found a place where he would rest, and there he laid him down,
But then rose up, and tost and turn’d, and stirréd all around,
And ne’er a wink of sleep got he, and ne’er a wink got I,
But oh, my hay it was well-aired, when market time came by!
And aye her hay and oh her hay and air her hay with me!
Come for a ride or come inside, and hold your head so free!
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SARVONIA
HAS
LOVELY
GIRLS
by
BARD
JUDITH
AND OTHERS
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his infamous soldiers’ ballad has over thirty
verses, each featuring a different Sarvonian city. From one end of the
continent to the other the fighting man has marched and sung these
stanzas, one more lubricious than the next. We have selected a few of the
verses less likely to ignite our parchment than the rest, including the
opening stanza, and recorded them here for the dubious benefit of
Caelerethian posterity. |
(BARD
JUDITH)
Sarvonia has lov’ly girls,
In country or in tow-own,
And in or out I’ll take ‘em all,
I like ‘em up or dow-owwn!
In Carmelad I kissed a wench,
I did not know her naaa-aaame,
I kissed her hard an’ left her there
Afore her husband came!
In Santhala I loved a lass,
Her lips were ripe an’ reee-eed,
Her skin was soft as th’ velvet that
Was coverin’ her bed!
In Parthanul a young fishwife
Was spreadin’ nets to dry-yyy,
Her skirts blew up, her nets blew down,
An’ I could see…oh my!
In Bardavos I had a maid,
With hips so round an’ swee-eeet,
I liked her swayin’ better still
When she was off her feet!
(THUJA)
In Horth a wonderful gal
full of life and a big smile
took me in her arms for a twirl
we did dance for awhile.
(TALIA
STURMWIND)
Sarvonia has lov’ly girls,
In country or in tow-own,
And in or out I’ll take ‘em all,
I like ‘em up or dow-owwn!
In Strata I met a Shendar
I tried to touch her tend--er
but when I kissed her no---ose
her knife came far too clo--ose.
To Rahmat I never came
and that‘s a bleeding sha--ame
for all the lov‘ly gi--irls
will never see my cu--urls
Uderza is a lovely place
I know from there a pretty fa--ace
But when she lost her sa--andals
I had some major sca--andals
In Thalambath a sorceress…
| The parchment is torn off abruptly
here, and a note in different handwriting is scribbled on the side: “Dear
Masterbard: What were you thinking of? Do NOT include the Thalambath
stanza! OR the one about the Milkengrad miss, either! And remove any
references to “Fa’av’calar”, or however you spelt it, unless you want an
elven curse turning all your furniture back into living trees…. A.F" |
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SANTHARIAN
ALE
by
BARD
JUDITH
Gimme a flagon, a barrel,
a wagon,
Oh gimme a flask or a pot or a pail,
And do not stop pouring the while I’m adoring,
Yes, gimme a drink of Santharian Ale!
Let there be a table, as broad as is able,
And set down a stool, a stump or a chair,
And if there be doch nuts,
then heap them in waterbutts,
Oh innkeep, I’m ready t’ let down my hair!
A drinker who’s boozy should not be too choosy,
So bring on the leeswine and beer without fail,
Oh barlass, keep filling the glasses I’m swilling,
And pour me some more of that Santharian Ale!"
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CENTAUR
DRINKING
SONG
by
LUCIRINA
TELOR
VEVAN
A pretty young filly she fancies me dear.
Every time I see her I pat her little rear.
Oh doodeley deer.
Oh doodeley deer
I pat her little rear.
There at home a mare strong as a clydesdale.
Every time I come around I peek under her tail.
Oh doodely dale.
Oh doodely dale.
I peek under her tail.
Some call me a stallion, some call me a stud.
Just because I steal of the girls their rosebud.
Oh doodely dud.
Oh doodely dud.
I steal their rosebud.
There was a cute mare in a barnyard.
She did not like me and stomped me hard.
Oh doodely dard.
Oh doodely dard.
She stomped me hard.
A Stallion offended as offended could be.
Wanted to make a gelding out of me.
Oh doodely dee.
Oh doodely dee.
Make a gelding out of me.
I told that stallion not to be a fool,
For no knife would ever touch my tool.
Oh doodely dool.
Oh doodely dool.
Ever touch my tool.
I've been with many mares, both thin and broad,
But none of them had ever seen a stallion with such a rod.
Oh doodely dod.
Oh doodely dod.
With such a rod.
Oh when I go to heaven for to finally rest.
I bet all the little angeles will be impressed.
Oh doodely dest.
Oh doodely dest.
All the little angeles will be impressed.
And the goodess, after I make her moan and yell.
in anger she will send me to hell.
Oh doodely dell.
Oh doodely dell.
She will send me to hell.
But the devil being a sly old bore.
in my face will slam the door.
Oh doodely door.
Oh doodely door.
In my face will slam the door.
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