Farros Galdor: Cursed Hymns of Unmaking

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lonnarin's picture
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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
Joined: Oct 8 2004
Farros Galdor: Cursed Hymns of Unmaking

Fimbul winter, dawn of darkness
Blackened storm clouds streak the sky
Rage within us, flames grow higher
We march to war, hear our cry

When ere the leaves of the world tree's fallen
Skeletal limbs rattle with gusts of gloom
Kingdom in ruins, the tyrant lay rotting
March upon them, these days of doom

Towers swaying, god slaves praying
Across the fields the lamb shrieks, braying
Red dragon's rage from a shattered cage
Long were the days of kinsmen's slaying
The wells have all shattered and dried long ago
Long since hath been the light of day
Throne, crown and shield all lost and shattered
Here where the corpse of the world doth lay.

Despair
Oh tortured sullen peaks
Weep thy rage to the winds
Beware
Scaley wings of horror
At the gates where death and hell
All begin

Storm clouds snowing, darkness growing
Heretical hymns sung upon gusts of gloom
Without our savior, Bloodstone fallen
We die upon these dark days of doom

When ere the leaves of the world tree's fallen
Skeletal limbs rattle with gusts of gloom
Empire shattered, the tyrant lay rotting
March upon them, these days of doom

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CorathiteIlsarian
Joined: Jan 15 2007

Great job :) I always love hearing the things Farros has to say in-game. He's a very fun character! Really enjoyed the poem song thing though.


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Thanks. I try to make him extra-gloomy being both a tiefling and a skald, essentially a doom-obsessed melodramatic metal bard. Now that dragons are unleashed and the sun and moon were eaten by wolves (ie: the dark cloud came) his view of the world is beginning to parallel old legends of Ragnarok, though not implicitly. He also sees Bloodstone as the Savior of the World, and blames the heroes who slew him for the dark ages of dragondeath that came upon us in the wake of his defeat, so I'll start writing more dedicated to Sinthar's greatness, perhaps even a shakespearean style tragedy about his initial fall from grace and exile into the lower planes.

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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Woodlands


How could there ever be

a thing as wretched as a tree?


Dormantly yearning to race the rock to nowhere

Every Autumn shedding, like an old man losing hair

To be chewed inside and chattered

with squirrel droppings aptly scattered

in the gullet of your trunk

Protected by the activists who may

use your corpse for a hierophant staff one day

the totality of existence just to make more junk.


Termites tunneling veins through the rings of your heart

axemen marching, determined to rip you apart

Oh how wretched it is to be a tree

bereft of gender, love or sexuality


Should I drink, must I pray for rain?

Should I think, would others hear my pain?

Should I cry out, would anybody hear me?

Should I dry out, what would be left of me?


Stoic is the soldier standing ever still

watching kin crash down from yon wooded hill

Helpless be he with no legs to walk free

Nothing's more wretched than to be a tree.


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Doom


Mighty doom, how I court thy fair countenance

to pass from my lips and rain chaos as the world rips

Feast of thy body, drink of thy blood

Doom sandwiches with lettuce, tomato, barley bread floating in the mud

And ere was the mustard, black enough for mine sustanance?

With fetid tater fries, oh succulent world as it dies.

Might I feast on mine doom, well past the expiration date?

As it sticks and it slivers from mine fork on the dinner plate.

The blade saws portions from the body as it writhes,

whence savage hunger picks thee apart in tithes.

Gluttony dripping dark lamentation from mine maw,

still I feel it wriggling as it dies upon my jaw.

Oh Fie! Oh madness! What is wrong with mine head?

Tis not doom, but leeches I dine upon instead!


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Hail to the Darklord Czukay!

Hail! Hail!

Mail to the dreaded Count!

Send m'lord a cake!

With rotted flesh for body

iced with sweet bitter blood

shattered bone for sprinkles

eyeballs for cherries

gathered in his dreaded wake.


Huzzah to the Darklord Czukay!

Huzzah! Huzzah!

A saw to the Count of Madmen!

A Saw! A Saw!

For bodies seldom store well

in the pieces that they fell

saw through bone, cutting deep

so in his bag he'll keep

gathered in his dreaded wake


Praise to the Darklord Czukay!

Praise! Praise!

Gaze upon the Heart of Madness!

Oh dying dirge of dread!

For where marches he,

twitches in casualty

the dewdrops all crimson

aneath the Black Sun

gathered in his dreaded wake


So Hail to Darklord Czukay!


Send him a bloody cake!


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CorathiteIlsarian
Joined: Jan 15 2007

Huzzah to the Darklord Czukay!


Still loving the stuff. Keep up the amazing work!


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Chains of Divinity

Fie upon thee, Milara the Mottled
Die beneath thee, Rilara bespottled
Sinthar's number two, the best ye'll ever be
even Broegar hath semblance of royalty
Yet ye creepeth underfoot like a slug in the sun
across charred rubble of this world undone
by thy lofty goals and stark treachery

May ye rule over this dust and ash
songs sung to thee aneath bloodied lash
Cracking cross thy back forever more
Cursed be ye, dark one we abhore

So fie upon thee, ye blackened wretched swine
to hell with thee and thy ambitions divine
Wouldst thou shatter the skies to grasp at starlight
and see it all undone in nary a fortnight?
The Red Dragon's hold on your soul complete
what thou seeth as victory naught but defeat
Tis not a crown on thy brow, but a leash round thy neck
So fie upon thee Milara, Fie thee straight to heck!

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I'll drink to that!


Nice one Farros...you really sing it like it is.

Czukay thanks you, the master bard of doom and fear.


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Cross counters and tabletops

yon mistress of Chaos hops

Devastation lay in her wake

of spilt wine for malice sake

Lamentations of a carpet

crimson stained


Leap into Madness

oh ye of blackened paw

Latch unto mine leg

to bite and kick and claw,

only to primp and pur and prance

thy false dance of innocence


Devour yon chameleon clans dire

Tell-tale tails doth twitch with ire.

Maker of a thousand graves,

hunting all and everything

Tis it eternal souls ye crave?

Blood Rites; a thousand demons sing.


Oh mittens

fiercest above all the kittens

wherein didst this fire of fury spark?

wast thou a killer in a former life,

riding the lightning unto the next?

wast thou a bastard child,

twisted by thy life of strife?

Be ye a beast of the wild,

or be ye merely hexed?


No matter... thy story told,

quakes terror into even the bold.

The pitter patter of bloody splatters,

a poor jogger grasps his neck

and slips into silence forevermore.

Nothing else matters.


Oh Mittens,

Dread kitten...

Why dost thou taketh life?

I feed thee till ye could burst,

it does little to slake that thirst

of mindless blood, torment and rage.

Megaton fury in a tiny furry cage.


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AeridiniteCorathiteDruidRofireinite
Joined: Jun 9 2006

// Lonnarin, I have two cats exactly like the fearsome Mittens!! Unfortunately, both of them rank somewhat higher than me on the household affection hierarchy so I just have to put up with their mindless blood, torment and rage!!


Bravo buddy! Sure, you are one weird dude, but man you make me laugh and amaze me in about equal measure. :)


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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That woman's gonna break me

train wreck that your could trust

phaser fire of her ire

a cold red beaming of her rust

Where was the dissolution

of her dead heart misery

and we go on and on and on

on wild semantics and illusion

life supports are all failing

we are spinning, it is dark

gods help us

I must keep conscious... talk to me

tell me that you're alive.

You are a dead thing

drifting there

your heels are an ice drift


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Prayer of the Aeridenite at Last Death
--------------------------------------
The wounds need a clotting agency
those roots,... what are they?
Break off a tasting regeant
dont swallow it
apply some to your hand
is there a color change?
good... now spread as much of it
as you can... on the wound
the patient's going into shock
so what do I do? the doctor is unconscious
elevate the legs and press them
into the wound
now stay awake
and for gods sake
dont let them
get you....

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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Somewhere there is a fat man

dictating my every movements

my honor and glory all the mere mechanations

of a godly sloth's enjoyment.

Somewhere a sleeping giant

claims itself a titan

fully dwarfed and wanting

The winter dusk bodes a boney grove.

It slakes its thirst on spite.

And a boney slave makes its tomb.


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Luxury is a cold solace

take this life and sympathy

our fate is naught but dust

and risen, we strive to fall

that which shimmers turns to rust

and I claw, and I climb

till the clouds smell sweeter

yet every angel that I find

flings slings and spears to my trust

manifest destiny


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Crazy dwarf, what art thou doing?
Be ye mad, or mind of the beast?
Charge thee now into the center,
hear him cry out cry out, his soul released!
Milara stands his eyes a flicker
behind him roars bone wings of doom.
Noon sun on Storold's brow a'glimmer
blinding light and death and doom.
Crash, smack boom! Doom doom doom!
Crazy dwarf, where art thou going?
go thee now to lands far beyond.
The army stands, and shrugs in wonder
Hath any dwarf a pair like this crazy one?

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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
Joined: Oct 8 2004

*Spreads a whisky country folk political song about a local prisoner being persecuted by johnny law. Far away on another plane, Willy Nelson sheds a single, 40-proof tear.*


This here's the story of a man.

Grew up a man of the land.

Then they slew his kin and skinned them

that night the animal began.


An elder corpse threw fury over all,

those who heard Great Oak Father's call.

Gathered them up and and bound them,

Good ol' murder by the law.


The man crossed paths with the corpse,

so steered he surely on his course.

And rage came out to maul him,

with claw and tooth and jaw.

And when the poeple found him,

he was just 2 feet tall,



in many pieces.


So the bear on run from the law,

met justice by its angry maw.

They bound and caged and flogged him,

chained there upon the wall.

took the earth and sky all from him,



for doin' no murder by the law.


*sweet harmonica solo*


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Beware ye the Birdlord's Wrath

There's a legend to be heard
of a man who once was bird
with feathered wings of flight
flapping on into the night... well
I heard he soars on high,
a great big birdman in the sky
and hath ye a balded head,
ye better duck, ye better dread!

For the Bird Lord soars above
the lines of trees that he loves
to dive bomb each shiney one,
scalps a flickering in the sun! oh...
Wear ye a hat! lest you feel his mighty splat!
Cause its not easy flying after the meal he had,
so please folks done get mad, if he's...
spilling forth down from every rafter
He's held it in for hours!
but chloecas lead to showers!

Let he who so have wrath march forth... with bag of rice in hand!
and lobbeth them high on holy ground where farmer's grain doth land
for birds know not the difference, from rice or grain or understand
with simplistic indifference, gizzards can't expand
so bloated they will be... and tricked so very easily

The bald dwarfs marching on
singing praise and mighty song!
of the day the flocks were quelled,
till on their heads the bird parts fell'd!
As chimney swifts sprint and doth so splat
the dwarfs would soon long for a hat
Left and right twas a gruesome sight
Finch and sparrow erupt mid-flight

And wrath came down in force!
For Bird Lords do get hoarse,
when you blow up all their feathered friends!
So lesson be, praise each blessing that he sends,
In revelry, naught in devilry
lest ye be flayed by a thousand hens!
And those beaks that thirst for blood
corpses feathered left in mud
every eyeball hath been picked,
every bone that hence was licked...
Testament to the avian betterment!
for in flock and fleet and regiment,
ere the feathered forces swarm,
gainst those who would do harm.

So Fury not against the Bird Lord!
ye cannot hope to win gainst every crow and finch and kin
but if ye do at least bring some hot sauce.
Those wings look mighty nice,
with a hefty side of rice!

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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
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Hark these hollowed shells where sorrow sings.

Tinders dance on tensile strings.

See what the stormy season brings?

Dreadful Lords and Long Dead Kings.


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GamemasterXeenitePrunillianDruidDoranditeToranite
Joined: Oct 8 2004

*Farros chuckles at the recent turn of events.  Oh how many years back when Hurm was attacked and he had written a different tale.  He dusts off an old tale long forgotten to tell again*

Run! Hide! Beg! Flee!
Plague Bearer!
Go! Now! Die! Bleed!
Plague Bearer!

Blood on ice, it is so nice, death comes now, give into vice!
Soon we freeze as winter comes, losing daughters, losing sons!
Bodies thaw out in the street, stench of doom and ROT-TING MEAT!

Know! You! Now!
Plague Bearer!
Scream! For! HIM!
Plague Bearer!

Mortal eyes will burn inside, epic heroes? they will hide!
Madness creeping inner doom! Final days do surely loom!
In death we will all be free! Final days of MIS-ER-Y!

*the cymbal crashes hard and the tempo becomes chaotic and disjointed, as if a great deconstruction of order ocurred. Slowly and drums regain compsure and build with short, soft bursts. The enchanted axe-guitar flies into a furious 12-minutes solo as the drums build back up faster and faster. Ale steins are hoisted high and reveler's dancing into the night as the notes grow faster and faster. With that, Farros strikes a heavy chord which echoes into the night like a thunderclap, the trees around them shaking and showering leaves. Effigies of straw men are lit behind him on cue, lined in burning rows as if saluting him*

*voice booming like a render's roar*

"The time of skalds is here and now, where winter's last breath sings on the wind. Blistering sun eclipsed by clouds raining death, destruction and doom from on high! Drink! Drink! There's no more to it now! Live till judgement day comes! Rise! Vice! Embrace us now! Our flesh is still ours.. for now!"

First we feed the one of ice... dripping maggots, farming lice!
Rotting slowly in the grave, none a hero who can save....
US NOW!
In the end the final feast, consumed by the plague-born beast!
All good things, they must end! Black Plague lurks around the bend!
Soon we join the worms in our fate, drink now before its not too late!
Drink!
TO THE WYRMS!

Run! Hide! Beg! Flee!
Plague Bearer!
Go! Now! Die! Bleed!
Plague Bearer!

PLAGUE BEARER!!!

 

*With that he ponders and begins lyrics for an entirely new chapter, the one-hit victory of Vrebel that happened not to long ago against that very same dragon!*

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