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Author Topic: The legend of Gisom Malki of the Whithorn  (Read 180 times)


The legend of Gisom Malki of the Whithorn
« on: November 09, 2012, 04:42:22 am »
Aye well it began at the beginning as all things in their rightful place should.
He was the third son of the fifth best Dwarf hunter in all of Whithorn.
He left after the singing on Orc Mountain, talk of a broken heart.
Either way he sang of his heroic kin and drank a fill and was on his way.

Aye well he left to make a name they say, that one day kin would sing o him.
He did not carry a named axe but stead bore an orc blade, found in the wood.
He first won dagger, hammer and more against kobold the hated foe, so good.
And more, he took to chasing goblin running with the pack out of Hlint.

Aye well after that they say he took up with Harrigan a fey druid loike.
He like the third son he was fought in the shadow of a shape changer.
He took to fighting giants and they say he slew a chieftain in the Fog.
Armed with only a slain goblin handaxe he cut him down at the ankle.

Aye well sensibilities returned and he took up with kin again around Hlint.
He led them he has said against the reddest Goblins back to back they stood.
He stood where they stood till all the goblins were down and the kin standing.
A Screamer and an Axechucker far from home and likely a tale there I'm sure.
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Re: The legend of Gisom Malki of the Whithorn
« Reply #1 on: November 13, 2012, 10:12:40 am »
Here's tae the wee Malki: the Kin being first o' the Sielwood an' now o' the Whithorn
His story started on Orc Mountain, where kin to hand he pledged the slayin' of giants
His story took him to the hills above and beyond the curse o Storan, and so wi a posse in tow
he named them Rasa, Ryn'ida, Aden and Sharyn'Ayal o' the lost strand, but aw'made the giant their foe

Here's tae the wee Malki: and one their number Gisom a slayer o' Giants
His story telt o' him slaying the tall yins frae the Forest of the Fog tae the Wolfswood o'Alindor
His story said on Alindor he, neither drunk nor ill,  kept richt strange posse as make a beard turn grey
Culling giants, eatin' Griffon wings cooked on fermer Part's straw, aye guid days they say.

Here's tae the wee Malki: keeping his pledge nae matter the posse
His story of matters somewhat gory, Gnomes that be taking to eatin the hearts of Orcs
His story descends into decline in the  company of Orc, goblin and gnome, and others mair true
Though the bald wizard o' the bench called the goblin Mister, mark ye, Mister Deacon! dinnae mock.


Sung with drunken enthusiasm
« Reply #2 on: November 21, 2013, 09:31:45 am »

Sung with drunken enthusiasm around the Malki campfire to celebrate a victory of the the Thunder peak bandits by Charm, Glitch and Gisom Malki


Wake up you sleepy head 
Put on some armour,
shake up your bed 
Put another log on the fire for thine
I've made some breakfast and wine 
Look to the west and what do I pine 
A crack at the bandit 
with Glitch and the Charm

All the nightmares came today 
And it looks as though they're
here to stay 
The gore and the blood 
No hope for me,
no rest for you

I think about a battle to come 
Where the brigands were found 
down by the Thunder 
smited in pain, smited in awe 
By a drunken trio who quested 
What we were here for 
All the heroes killed today 
And it looks as though
they're here to stay 

Oh You bloodied thing 
Don't you know you're dancing your 
gobbos and kobolds in pain 
Oh You daggery thing 
Don't you know you're healing your 
Elf and Dwarf from pain 

Let me make it plain
You gotta make slay 
for the sober tommorrow 



Sung around the campfires of
« Reply #3 on: December 07, 2013, 09:24:06 am »
Sung around the campfires of the wee Malki Dwarven clans to celebrate a forgotten victory by Dalanthar
Three bandits died, three bandits died,
See how they lied, See how they sighed,
They all ran after the Gisoms life,
Who cut off their heads with a Dwarven knife,
Did you ever see such a sight in your life,
As three bandits died!


Gisom had returned to Orc
« Reply #4 on: January 15, 2014, 10:08:14 am »

Gisom had returned to Orc Mountain. As was the way, once every ten years. High above the scowling Orcs, and with some poor stray giant slain beyond the fire the mood is drunken bravado.

Those still living with the clan sat on one side of the fire in strict order, elders first, chosen sons nearby, others falling further aside by their prospects. All better behaved and many in awe of their well travelled but near forgotten wandering kin now returned. On the far side of the camp, the wanderers, waifs and strays - now battle weary, scarred and some near broken and weepy. But they sit where they please, bragging of adventure, displaying their captured weapons from fallen foes. Many a tall tale is backed up by a wicked weapon held in hand so none can deny the wonder of the wandering wee malki.

Gisom's turn now. He no longer covets his father's best axe, fears not for his place at the fire. He has his own weapon collection, Goblin dagger, Orc axe,  and a strange collection of giant knives and blades. He sits where he pleases and opts to sing. Drunk and battle weary enough not to fear his out of tune ramblings...for he is a wee Malki


On the road again -
Just can't wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is makin’ mayhem with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again.
On the road again
Goin' places that I've never been.
Slayin' things that I may never see again
And I can't wait to get on the road again.
On the road again -
Like a Clan of Malkies we go down the highway
We're the best of friends.
Insisting that the ale is flowin’ all our way
And our way
is on the road again.
Just can't wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is killin' chaos with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again.
On the road again
Like a band of drinkers we do'it our way
We're the best of friends
Insisting that the world keep turning our way
And our way
is on the road again.
Just can't wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is slayin’ savage’ with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again.
And I can't wait to get on the road again.
He roars with laughter, and falls back off his stone  and soon snores in a drunken sleep.


(No subject)
« Reply #5 on: April 15, 2014, 04:13:28 pm »

In the aftermath of the battle of Vehl Docks, Gisom, Borris, and the red cloaked 'halfling' were ordered to remain in town for 24 hours. Gisom lost no time in complying at a Dwarf friendly Inn far from the docks. A week later unsure if his 24 hours were up he commissioned the only Ilsarian Dwarf in town to compose a few words of song to commemorate the victory over a Corathitre slaver crew at the docks. The song he is shamelessly calling - the living legend that is Gisom Malki, Corri slayer.


Sittin' in the mornin' sun
I'll be sittin' when the evenin' come
Watching the ships roll in
And then I watch 'em roll away again, yeah
I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watching Cora-thites fade away
Ooo, I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay
drinkin' time
I left my home in Whithorn
Headed for the 'Vehl-o bay
'Cause I've had nothing to fight for
And looks like Borris gonna lead the way
So I'm just gonna sit on the dock of the bay
Watching the Red-cloak hide away
Ooo, I'm sittin' wi'the tusker an'the Red
fichtin' time
Look like Corath's gonna charge
Everything still remains the same
I can't do what ten Corathite tell me to do
So I guess I'll remain the same, yes
Fichtin' here swinging my axes
And this spelliness won't leave me alone
It's two titanic heroes I needed
Just to make this dock my home
Now, I'm just gonna sit at the dock of the bay
Watching the prisoners stroll away
Oooo-wee, sittin' on the dock of the bay
Savin' time


A wild eyed, red faced
« Reply #6 on: September 22, 2014, 03:32:57 am »

A wild eyed, red faced growling Dwarf stood on the narrow bridge than spanned a small stream east of Leringard towards the mighty Whithorn.A much smaller and younger Dwarf not yet with beard stood at the other end of the bridge. 

Gisom, for it was he, had two daggers about his more than ample waist, a mighty double headed axe strapped across his back. He leaned on a strange looking scythe, made for war and not for farming, it held several runes along it's glowing blade. Young Garth Stormaxe, for it was he at the other end of the bridge, had three logs strapped to his back and held a stave of hickory in his hands defiantly.

The two dwarves were swopping tales of derring do.

Garth had just finished explaining his escape from a black bear not so many hours ago.

Gisom was just about finished a lengthy tale of a legendary encounter in the Whithorn. "So there I was young Garth, Owl Bears to the right of me, Owl Bears to the left of me, and a mighty chieftain Owl Bear to the front of me, magic hurled at me and bears roaring, storm'd at me with beak and claw, boldly they ran  to maul, into the jaws of death, into the mouth of hell, charged the michty Owl bears."

"How many, How many bears were there?" interrupted the tongue tied Garth. 

"Och must have been near 600." 

"and what happened then?" cried the apprentice. "Och did I not just fall over and die!" replied Gisom Malki and roared with laughter.

The two Dwarves passed about their business, and so the legend of Gisom Malki grew a little bigger in the telling.



Memories of the expedition to
« Reply #7 on: January 26, 2015, 07:25:35 pm »

Memories of the expedition to the Great Spikes, a fine adventure and the Wee Malkis greatest trek.

No one asked, someone sighed, others pretended to snore, Chimes offered a counter tune, but to no avail for Gisom pressed on with his song. 

There they were in the Outpost cave deep in the Spikes, further than any wee Malki had ever travelled before. Safe for once He put together some words about his many adventures during his sober journey to the Icy wastes. He was  hoping to keep them for a big Clan gathering at Orc Mountain one day.

Well you know I was always the first to arrive at the party,
Oh and the last to leave the scene of the fight.
Well it started with a couple of beers,
And it went I don't know how many years,
Like a run away Giant charging over the Ice.

Well I finally got around to admit that I might have a problem,
But I thought it was just too damn big of a mountain to climb,
Well I got knocked down on my knees and said Hey,
I just can't go on falling this way,
Guess I have to learn to stay on my feet.

Oh yeah, One Giant at a Time.
Oh yeah, One Giant at a Time.

Well I finally got around to admit that Ale was the problem,
When I used to put the blame on the Drakes and the Giants,
All my friends I use to fight with are gone,
But I hadn't planned on staying this long,
Guess I'll have to learn to live my life one Giant at a time...

*he shrugs and stops to the relief of everyone present.

Gisom looked around the cavern lost in thought, restless eyes fall on the casks of ale scattered around the camp. He sighed, he twitched but he never wavered, he waited for the time to return.