II. The Lighter Side Of Dying
Christopher of Hoghton
Philip Dyemoke
D'ye ken young Hoghton, with his body all red?
D'ye ken young Hoghton, with his helm on his head?
D'ye ken young Hoghton, and the poor fellow's dead,
With his plates and his chain in the morning!
For the sound of his battle raised a terrible din,
And we all said his death was a shame and a sin.
Oh, it's not nice to hack up His Majesty's kin,
With his plates and his chain in the morning!
Bergen von Rauch
Steven MacEanruig
Bergen von Rauch came forth on the field,
Sword on his arm, and hand on his shield,
And swore to his foes that their doom would be sealed.
He'd smite them to ribbons with razor-sharp shield
And block all their blows with swift-dancing sword
And show them that Shastans could not be ignored.
Alas that his sword did not block all their blows,
His razor-sharp shield did not sever his foes.
Although he struck bravely a most fearsome pose,
With gnashing of teeth and with snorting of nose,
With sword he was struck and with pike he was gored,
And Shastans, while noticed, were mostly abhorred.
Elriin of Hrasvelg
Karina of the Far West
1 Witch: Thrice the warlike toad has croaked,
2 Witch: Thrice - and once the turkey gobbled,
3 Witch: Shasta calls, 'tis time, 'tis time!
Omnes: Round about the field they go,
Elriin Hrasvelg and his foe,
Double, double, toil and trouble,
Beat the enemy to rubble.
How did he this monster make?
Neck and head of scaly snake,
Trunk and tail of ramping lion,
Wings of bat to flutter high on,
And instead of furry paws
Eagle's legs with clutching claws.
Double, double, toil and trouble,
Beat the enemy to rubble.
Elric du Cassel
Rima of Rockridge
Elric was nimble, Elric was quick,
But he couldn't duck under The Bellatrix stick.
Ranulf of the North Country
William the Lucky
Lord Ranulf came from the far North,
From Shasta Province journeyed forth
To seek to win the Western Crown,
And so in springtime came he down
With sword in hand and sturdy shield,
And took his place upon the field.
The weather it was less than good
(In fact it rained on where he stood).
But Ranulf, he had come to fight
And hacked and hewed with all his might,
Quite undeterred by passing shower
(Although its passing took an hour).
But 'though ferocity he had,
And skillful was this warrior lad,
Before the end he was cut down
And to another went the Crown.
But cloaked in glory did he fall - -
He's not so stupid after all.
Renfield of the Inland March
Dorcas Dorcadas
Renfield of the Inland March
Met his foe and then went squarch.
Martin the Temperate
William the Lucky
"Is that Martin, mace in hand, out on the field of battle?"
"Truth! His tabard fore and aft bears likenesses of cattle."
"But the shield he bears can't be his oval of renown . . ."
"Nonetheless it's he, M'lord, though soon to be struck down.
"To the far off Pensic War has Martin lately travelled.
In those eastern lands, I fear, his cause became unravelled.
Like a sea of mud it was, 'neath rain and wind and thunder;
That he made it home at all is truly cause for wonder.
"Martin fought both well and long upon that distant mire,
Shivered thorugh the sodden night sans benefit of fire.
But disaster held its hand until he quit that field:
Heading homeward to the West he went and lost his shield.
"In a forest far away lie scattered bits of armor;
Several more now decorate the mantle of some farmer.
Similar must be the fate of Martin's famous shield:
Gone beyond the ken of men and ne'er to be revealed."
"Truly shows a gallant heart to fight so handicapped"
Look you there! A mighty blow and Martin is decap'ed."
"'Twas for him a rotten month, the whole of this September;
Nobly did he bear it tho', and that all will remember."
Terrance of Halliday
Rima of Rockridge
Terrance this is stupid stuff:
You jab your shield-hooks fast enough;
There can't be much amiss, 'tis true,
To see the way you hack and hew.
But, oh, sweet squire, the aim you take:
Not every blow should be a fake.
The foe, the bold foe, he's not dead;
How could he, when you've missed his head.
We poor lads, we aim our blows,
At least mash shields when missing foes.
Pretty fighting 'tis to fan
The breeze as if it were a man,
Flailing Fiery-hearted fey.
Have done, they're carting you away.
