This page contains Battle Songs, Crown Poems & Stories, and Personal Songs about Household Members

This is a Myth that might refer to certain members of this household. It is only a Myth.

Song Pic

 

Song Pic

Song Pic

Song Pic

Song Pic

Song Pic

Glowing Orange Squirrel

Cerian Cantwr


Chorus:


For Skippy is the night guard on the bridge of gargoyles grey.
Helps travelers in need, his inner light does show the way.
A friend to all the children - chitters with each boy and girl.
Our hero, known as Skippy, the glowing orange squirrel.

Verses:


There are many tales of bravery, of heroes bold and true.
I'm afraid this isn't one of them, but it will have to do.
A tale of injured innocence, to make your neck hairs curl -
The kidnapping of Skippy, the glowing orange squirrel.
Now Skippy he did guard a bridge upon the Runestone Hill,
And when drunk souls would stagger by, he'd chase them with a will.
They'd yelp with fright then stumble on to zigzag left and right,
And swear they'd seen the devil as an orange squirrel that night.

A Spaniard, and a Chinaman, and an Aztec heard his fame -
And they decided there and then a squirrel's ransom to claim.
The Spaniard crept up softly, led by the orange light;
Then stuffed the squirrel beneath his cloak and vanished in the night.
Skippy's friends awoke all unaware upon that fateful morn.
To find their bridge unguarded, their faithful friend had gorn.
In his place they found a ransom note left by a mean old mobster
That threatened dire consequence and was signed 'Evil Lobster'.

While filled with fear and worry for their missing furry friend,
They searched the land from high to low, likewise from end to end.
They passed around a broadsheet where his likeness had been drawn,
And hired the dread detective that was known as the dark prawn.
A shrine was soon erected, where their patron squirrel had been,
That begged for Skippy's safe return. Soon offerings did pour in
Of acorns, nuts, and bric-a-brac. For with telling of the tale,
All children upon hearing it began to weep and wail.

The selfish shellfish heard all this, and gleefully clacked his claws,
Gave orders to his motley crew to pursue without pause.
The Spaniard laughed. The Chinaman twirled his mustaches instead.
The Aztec sighed, and rolled his eyes, then sadly shook his head.
The search for Skippy still went on, continued unallayed.
None had heard hide nor hair of him. His friends were sore afraid
A grisly fate had taken him, perhaps turned to squirrel stew.
Despondent and despairing, they did wonder what to do.

The next day dawned both clear and fair, with wonder and surprise.
At ease there, in his favorite chair, did Skippy meet their eyes.
They marveled at his great escape. Had his life been at risk?
But Skippy smirked and chittered how much he liked lobster bisque.
Now Skippy's back where he belongs, at guard upon the hill.
All children cheer, their friend is here, that empty spot he'll fill.
A glowing dot of comfort in the middle of the night.
But if you're drunk, hell startle you - you'll run away in fright.

Song Pic

Battle Songs

Somebody's First to Die
(The Midland's Version)
Somebody's Last in Line
(The Slacker Version)
Tune and Refrain Lyrics by Alexander deSeton
Copyright ? John Seaton
Verse Lyrics by John Inchingham
Copyright 1999 Steve Katlack
Tune by Alexander deSeton
Copyright ? John Seaton
Lyrics by Avery Austinbringer
Copyright 2000 Ted Kocot
REFRAIN*:

Somebody's first to die, boys.
Somebody's first to die.
We're all together on the field
But somebody's first to die.

REFRAIN*:

Somebody's last in line boys,
Somebody's last in line.
We're all together on the field,
But somebody's last in line.

VERSE 1:

We were the middle of the Middle
Until Calontir left the fold.
Now we're the backwater corner of the southwest border
And the river is ours to hold
But . . .

VERSE 1:

As I was laying in bed this morn,
I woke to a battle cry.
Sounds of men putting their armour on,
I had to wonder why, 
'CUZ

VERSE 2:

Free Militia, Phalanx, Ulfidnar,
Du Soleil, Gargoyles also,
Peacocks, Terrae Finis, House Brandenburg--
One Legio de Facto.
What?

VERSE 2:

The battle starts at ten o'clock,
We must be there by nine.
The kings they will be ready to go,
They like to start these things on time - 
HA!

VERSE 3:

Proudly march we off to battle
In our Serpents in Anulo.
From across the field, foes squint and squeel,
"Look! a unit of gold zeros!"
Ouch!

VERSE 3:

So polish up your armour,
I'll be swilling a beer.
That mold, it will scrape right off,
And duct tape is always near. 
RIP!

VERSE 4:

We're the maverick Midlands Army
And in time all lands will learn
That sentient foes ought not to close
With a rash of scaley ringworms.
Eeewww!

VERSE 4:

We're the maveric Midlands Army,
And slacking is what we do best.
When the cannon sounds, we'll mow 'em down,
'til them Militas Dormandus Est. 
HUH?

VERSE 5:

Nobody lives forever
And havin‚ fun's what we do best.
So, when the fightin's through, we‚ll drink with you.
"Sed ludus solum est."
Hey!

*Sing refrain twice at beginning, once between each verse, and twice again at the end. *Sing refrain twice at beginning, once between each verse, and twice again at the end.
Melee
By The Midlands Fighters
To the tune of  " The Bananna Boat Song"

THE DRAGON HOST MARCH


Tune: "The Cuckoo‚s Nest"
Lyrics by John Inchingham
c Copyright 2003 Steve Katlack

Chorus:
Melee, melee melee come and me wanna fight more. Melee, melee melee come and me wanna fight more!

 May be big but don't count me out!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 Stubbed my toe smashed a viscount!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 There in the battle is Sergeant Aileen!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 A lovely, graceful, killing machine!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
Chorus:

 Master John leads us in verse,
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 Our sad voices are his curse!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 Master Carlo has at great offense,
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 Got boo boo attacking a fence!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 Party all night with a cask of rum!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 Fight the next day. Yes! We're that dumb!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 On the bridge the think we'll yield
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 Devin kills them with just a shield!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more

Chorus:

 Look at us now we aren't many,
 Melee come and we wanna fight more.
 We'll get you, you bastards you killed Kenny.
 Melee come and we wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 Though Vargas brings us lots of joy,
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 When Kaydian's with us you know he's a big boy!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 That Bardolf he's awful thin,
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 Got two swords and a great big grin
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 Hit a guy and he's not dead!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 Twelve-gauge helm and 8 gauge head!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 If you want to kill some men,
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 Give a pole arm to Master Chen
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 I ran into a bunch of chucks!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 Now they're pickin' 'em up with garbage trucks!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 Slappy joins us and looks like a toy,
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 Next to Kaydian he's not a big boy.
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 Sir Gunther goes into battle,
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 He slaughters his foeman just like cattle.
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 Calontir to sing this song tries,
 Melee comes and me wanna fight more.
 They just don't get it no one dies!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 Leopold he may be young,
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.
 But he puts the chucks on the run.
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

 There stands Dietrich with a naughty sneer.
  Melee come and me wanna fight more.
  Fills the Eastern shields with fear!
 Melee come and me wanna fight more.

Chorus:

VERSE 1:
In the first mists of time, formed the Kingdom of the West;
And the next to be born was that Eastern Tiger Mess;
But the third try‚s the charm and you‚ll pardon if I boast
That the best realm is the homeland of the Dragon Host!


REFRAIN:
We will march to pick lilies. We will march to the gulf.
We will march off to Pennsic to pound tigers into pulp.
And we‚ll shout as we march. Let all kingdoms hear our boast:
That the best realm is the homeland of the Dragon Host!


VERSE 2:
From the sunny sands of Atenveldt, came kingdom number four;
And Meridies soon followed, realm of forest, field and moor;
Fair Caid came next, where dolphin treks between lands flung afar;
And the seventh day saw Ansteora‚s rising star!


VERSE 3:
Blue Atlantia was carven by great waves of crashing foam;
Zeus‚s tears formed An Tir, where the soggy lion roams;
From a falcon‚s egg, hatched Calontir, while purple saxons sang;
And Trimaris, the eleventh realm, of romance sprang!


VERSE 4:
Dancing deer by the dozen raised The Outlands‚ desert wall;
Then our shadow-dragon cousin buiilt a nest in Drachenwald;
Out of glaciers, salt and geysers, Artemisia appeared;
And, from battle spark, blazed Aethelmearc, our fifteenth peer!


VERSE 5:
Howling wolves conjured Ealdormere from hieland winds and then
To our wonder, from down under, jumped Lochac to seven and ten!
Though we like to roam and wander, let all kingdoms hear our boast:
That the best realm is the homeland to the Dragon Host!


FINAL CADENCE:
CALL: There are seventeen kingdoms on the map.
RESPONSE: There are seventeen kingdoms on the map.
C: Some like to fight. Some like to yap.
R: Some like to fight. Some like to yap.
C: They come to war with the Dragon Host.
R: They come to war with the Dragon Host.
C: Some are allies. The rest are toast.
R: Some are allies. The rest are toast.
C: Go scrub your armor and make it gleam.
R: Go scrub your armor and make it gleam.
C: ŒCause Pieter‚s in the pulpit and we‚re fightin‚ clean.
R: ŒCause Pieter‚s in the pulpit and we‚re fightin‚ clean.
C: Sound off!
R: One! Two!
C: Sound off!
R: Three! Four!
C: Bring it on down!
R: One! Two! Three! Four! One! Two! (Beat.) Three-four!

 

I know there were more versus of Melee this year. Please send them to Ix.  

Crown Poems

A Lady of Command
a Welsh Triad in praise of
Gwenhwyvar Lawen fitzHerbert
by Alexander de Seton
DEECHFONNOCKY
by John Inchingham
(With apologies to Lewis Carroll)
c Copyright 2001 Steve Katlack

Among her honors, she is named:
Battle-Sergeant in time of strife
Courtly Baroness
Honorable Lady of Heart and Hand


Among her acts, three have given her fame:
Mother of Alan, he of the Trees
Courtier to her Liege and Lady
War-Valor at the embattled bridge, under the eye of her King


Among poets, three things sing of her:
Sun-Bright Beauty
Strength of Heart
A Lady of Command

'Twas crownish, and the needling maids
Did plotter and tittle in the shade:
Self-portant were the marshallumps,
And the drone-geeks o-yayed.


"Fight well, brave Deechfonnock, my friend!
Yon foes are fierce, with throne-lust mad!
Beware the surbill bird and shun
Svainsbane and wallupcad!"


He took his sliderule sword in hand:
Through first bout blaised, like tallowfire;
Then rested he by the scallist tree
And passing fluttergwyn admired.


But, as at fluttergwyn he grinned,
Dumb Deechfonnock forgot his foes!
And wallupcad did smite him bad;
Left Deech half-dead, so all supposed.


Thus sneaky svainsbane saw his chance
But Deechfonnock was ready!
They chove and slanched and rattle-clanched
Till svainsbane was confetti!


"Oh, art thou hurt, dear Deechfonnock?
Return, twiceworthy winner!
Come, sit by me, the surbill bird,
For thou art my next dinner!"


'Twas crownish, and the needling maids
Did plotter and tittle in the shade:
Self-portant were the marshallumps,
And the drone-geeks o-yayed.

The Tales of Ragnvaldr

Purple

Prologue

In May past gone a tournament was shown
Its end to find a prince for dragon's throne.
To Northshield many lords and ladies went
And when 'twas done all but one life was spent.
And late that day, a gathering of men
did speak of one whose prowess they did ken.
A Warder, Master, Knights and Duke they were,
And they did tell the tale of their fights there.
The story of their combat with the heir
The story of their fights with Ragnvaldr.

The Warder's Tale (Ceanntighern):

This bout was both Ragnvalder's and my own
First in our quest for the Dragon throne.
Florentine was both our weapons of choice,
Embracing whilst the crowd heard herald's voice.
Then, circling, feinting, slashing at my foe,
I staggered back as blade near me did go.
We then both struck each other bye and bye
And had we not blades bated would have died.
To fight again were we then both intent
To stop there neither would we be content.
More swordplay did we furiously indulge
And then a weakness did my shield divulge.
My leg he struck and then my arm he took.
And then a blow with which my body shook.
He gave no points of honor to me there,
No greater gift could I have from the Heir.
And though I lost to him I do now say,
No better man was there to take the day.

The Knight's Tale (Ix):

A jaguar, I, with silver swords so bright
I waited on the ledge prepared to fight
Ragnvaldr cautiously approached my lair
I held so still I did not move a hair
Then leapt! But quick as mercury he dove
to the side, avoiding, and when I next hove
into range, he struck, as swift as a snake,
and with his sword, my strong legs he did take.
I lay there, nearly helpless, but not dead
Until he then stepped in and took my head.

The Master's Tale (Paruig):

As if we carried iron staffs, we lurched
towards each-other, but he was made of birch
While I was made of stone. He flexed, and I,
I cracked. If the heavens had made him fly
he could not have had more strength or prowess
than an angel. And while I strove no less,
He was foretold to take the battle field,
Ragnvaldr, strong, with his swift sword and shield.

The Second Knight's Tale (Michael Al Cluin):

A bird upon the air Ragnvaldr was
And I could not strike him if I had cause
All attacks I mustered he evaded
Like a ghost before my sword he faded
No room for fear or doubt within his mind
He was so focused on his lady kind
And as I flailed in my disarray
of his determination, I must say,
For 'Bella's honor he'd be not denied
He then struck me a blow and there I died.


The Duke's Tale (Palymar):

I am a Duke of the fair Middle Realm.
I won my first Crown when he was a bairn.
My own son watching on cried out in fear
That Ragnvaldr would bring me to death there.
I feinted, shifted, my foe did the same
We were both ready, in our ladies' names.
But he is a young man, powerfully
stands strong, and though I fought valiantly
My two swords could not match his silver speed
Legged, then dead, was the order of the deeds.
But to a second bout we went that day
Before the dragon throne would have its say
Spears we carried, long and sharp as serpents,
tall as a man, onto the field we went,
The heir made several thrusts as if to strike
But all his gestures were to me oblique,
To draw me in to range, his thrusts did lie
Till shocked I sat with spear in chest, and die.


Conclusion:

Now do I hope all those who hear these tales,
or read them, that, if there be any veils
of inconsistency that you therefore
blame the author, Purple, and nevermore
the men whose tales and odes be told herein.
I return to my fair Isle of Erin.
Here ends Ragnvaldr's Tales, too short by far.
But told with hope and in friendship they are.
Now take you care, dear reader, and forgive,
for someday I may write about YOUR life.
Off to escape the dragonfather's tongue,
We will make fair goodly amends ere long.
Else the bard a base and liar be called.
So, good night, my dear friends, unto you all.

YOUNG DAMON KIRBY
A Poem by John Inchingham
c Copyright 2000 Steve Katlack

 

To his first royal tourney
Rode young Damon Kirby
(Quick Damon,
Lean Damon,
Keen Damon-oh),
For to fight for the crown
And to win great renown.
Dare-Damon.
Green Damon.
Doomed Damon-oh.

He challenged two knights
To test mettle and might.
Brave Damon.
Why Damon?
Bap! Damon! Ow!
Though valiant he battled,
Their blows made his teeth rattle.
Duck Damon!
Whack! Damon.
Down Damon-oh.

But youths heal quite nicely
And, in time, fight more wisely.
Rouse Damon.
Proud Damon.
Rise Damon-oh.
So perhaps, next Crown Tourney,
We shall shout, "Damon Kirby!
Sir Damon.
King Damon."
Some day-mon-oh.

Personal Songs

Lordy, Lordy Captain Vargas
Filked by Lady Yzab`e de Rodez and Lord Pieter van der Eiken
To the tune of "The Battle Hymn"

CERIAN THE ACROSTIC

A Sonnet by John Inchingham

Copyright 2005 Steve Katlack

1
Captain Vargas has an ego bigger than our Barony,
he'll be the first to tell you and on that we all agree;
A handsome lord and warrior of legendary might-
to boast he has every right!

Lordy, lordy Vargas give us all a break,
Lordy, lordy Man, you really take the cake,
We are proud and we all love him and we're happy for him too,
But he'll talk at you until you're blue!

2
Captain Vargas went to Pennsic 33 alone this year,
his Lady wife could not attend him, she had stuff to do back here,
but a phone call and a long ride took her quickly to his side,
for knighthood he was vigilized!

Lordy, lordy, Captain Vargas is a Knight!
Lordy, lordy, isn't he an awesome sight?
We are proud, but we are wary, for our teeth I fear we'll grit,
Cause we'll never hear the end of it!

3
Captain Vargas went to vigil, to proclaim his golden honor,
To his teary-eyed surprised she came, his Lady Rowan Connor!
Their happiness is endless for he's now part of the Chivalry
And stuck to hear about it all are we!

Lordy, lordy, good Sir Vargas hear our cheers,
Lordy, lordy, glory after all these years
We are proud and we all love you but just think on this a bit,
and don't rub our happy faces in it!

4
Well the moral of this story is quite plain for all to see,
Our hearts are filled with gladness heís a Knight of Chivalry
But our stomachs tense and tickle for we cannot help but fear,
That the end of it we'll never hear!

Lordy, lordy Captain Vargas now Sir Knight!
Lordy, lordy isn't he an awesome sight,
We are proud and we all love him but he put us into fits
For deep down heís really full of ........

Cows of the Winter, moo loud discontent:

Elite bovine snow beasts, leap, bellow and howl!

Rise vampire penguins; wreak havoc, Hell-bent!

Ill-mannered were-llamas, spew spittle most fowl!

All Cerian Cantwr’s creations can’t stand

New honors with which now their master’s imbrued.

Cunning, yet fearful, they know bay leaf strands

Already entangle his Windmill of Skew.

No laurel wreath ever should imprison fun.

Too often is peerage the jailer of joy.

Wherefore shackle fantasy, whimsy and pun?

Release them and breed them and give them employ.

Oh death, doom and gloom to those who loathe shtick!

Let Cerian be Cerian, the Bard Acrostic.