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Farros Galdor: Cursed Hymns of Unmaking

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lonnarin:
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?

lonnarin:
*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*

lonnarin:
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!

lonnarin:
Hark these hollowed shells where sorrow sings.
Tinders dance on tensile strings.
See what the stormy season brings?
Dreadful Lords and Long Dead Kings.

lonnarin:
*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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