Location: Shire of Trisel, Trimaris

I am in my late forties, a proud husband, father, and a bard. I am a book pedlar by trade and a bookman by vocation. I am a romantic, a realist, and a Believer. I like a good joke, and a bad one even better. I admire all ladies for the innate beauty that is in each one, but my heart is sworn to the fair and gentle Lady Lorelei, who has consented to share my life and my name.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

A Rebellion Against The Heralds

Why should I submit my name
To a herald's rule?
He cannot tell me who I am.
I will be no one's fool.
I am a bard and master of
My own identity.
Obscure rules in dusty files
Mean not a whit to me.

We play a time in which there was
No standard spelling set,
No surnames as we know them,
No conventions to be met.
My free spirit balks at rules
On authenticity
Set by some snooty laurel
Who's more period than me.

So I am in no hurry
To jump through all the hoops,
Cross the i's and dot the t's
To join the proper groups.
I'm too busy having fun
To worry about my name.
It matters not what you submit;
It's how you play the game.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

A Good Day To Make Someone Die

The sky is clear
The sun is high.
Our banners stand
Against the sky.
Brothers in arms,
You and I
It’s a good day
To make someone die.

Swords are sharpened
Shields are bright,
Waiting for
The coming fight
Fighting for
Our kingdom’s right.
Let our foes
Quake at the sight.

Raise the signal
Sound the horn.
March out in
The early morn.
Let our foemen
Feel our scorn.
Make ‘em wish
They’d ne’er been born.

Choose your victim
Up ahead
He wishes that
He’d stayed in bed
Strike him cold
And loot the dead.
Let the green grass
Run with red.

Lift a glass
And drink it down.
Drink to honor
And renown.
Drink to our
Illustrious Crown.
Let our noble
Cheers resound.

The sky is clear
The sun is high.
Our banners stand
Against the sky.
Brothers in arms
You and I.
It’s a good day
To make someone die!
Make some other whoreson die!
Good day to make someone die!