Sunday, December 5, 2010

The Three Deep Ones

By Colyne Stewart

A filk of The Three Ravens by Baroness Kilde ferch Ystwyth ap Twm, of Thescorre, 1999

Sung to the tune of the Windmill Song by the Gaels.
In days gone by when we were unchanged
A man in Innsmouth looked down from the reef
circling below him he saw there three deep ones
and he said, "For them I shall start new beliefs.”

And around and around and around swim the deep ones
There's the Dagon and the Hydra and don't forget Pthugn’ulfgg’yy
One's for believing and one's for remembering
and one's to drive you completely insane

The House of the Fish had heralds and bard-types
fighters and fencers and fools far and wide
They planned and they plotted throughout the whole year
’Til Fhtagnites called in things from outside.

And around and around and around swim the deep ones
There's the Dagon and the Hydra and don't forget Pthugn’ulfgg’yy
One's for believing and one's for remembering
and one's to drive you completely insane

House Fhtagn the non-House had many Old Ones
and was blessed with shoggoths who bloated and rose
they squirmed and they squamed as they moved around
spreading terror and horror wherever they goes

And around and around and around swim the deep ones
There's the Dagon and the Hydra and don't forget Pthugn’ulfgg’yy
One's for believing and one's for remembering
and one's to drive you completely insane

The Knowne World now is our demesne
Colyne and Thorfinna hold the House in thrall
With Ithaqua, Cthulhu and Kings dressed in Yellow
and Hastur, he-who-is-not-to-be-named.

And around and around and around swim the deep ones
There's the Dagon and the Hydra and don't forget Pthugn’ulfgg’yy
One's for believing and one's for remembering
and one's to drive you completely insane

Deep Ones of dark green survive any weather
Deep Ones of gilled necks love human girls
Deep Ones have webbed paws and also big finned feet
and Deep Ones, they gibber and dance and they whirl

And around and around and around swim the deep ones
There's the Dagon and the Hydra and don't forget Pthugn’ulfgg’yy
One's for believing and one's for remembering
and one's to drive you completely insane.

The Sewers’ Lament (One More Pattern)

Colyne Stewart and Thorfinna gra’feldr, Feb As 37 (2003)

Based on “Eastrealm Battle Chant (One More Battle)” by Master Hector of the Black Height

One more pattern, one more fray,
One more cross-stitch, one more stay.
One more thimble on my thumb,
Eight more hours and I’ll be done.

Once again my thumb has bled,
My white tunic is stained red.
My only trim is pea soup green;
Just what does stay-stitching mean?

One more pattern, one more fray,
One more cross-stitch, one more stay.
One more thimble on my thumb,
Eight more days and I’ll be done.

Rolls of fabric on my floor
Wool and cotton, silk and more.
All of it I bought real cheap,
From Value Village up the street.

One more pattern, one more fray,
One more cross-stitch, one more stay.
One more thimble on my thumb,
Eight more weeks and I’ll be done.

To make my hood I sew a curve,
To fix the ends I use a surge.
I think its coming out all right
But in is out and left is right!

One more pattern, one more fray,
One more cross-stitch, one more stay.
One more thimble on my thumb,
Eight more months and I’ll be done.

Why’d I pick a cotehardie?
It is too advanced for me.
Look at all those buttoned sleeves!
I want to throw a fit and leave.

One more pattern, one more fray,
One more cross-stitch, one more stay.
One more thimble on my thumb,
Eight more years and I’ll be done!

The Bonnie Ship Red Arrow

Based on The Bonnie Ship the Diamond (trad.)
Laird Colyne Stewart

Lyrics

The Red Arrow is a ship me lads,
For the Eastern Straits she's bound
And the Rouge Port is all garnished
With lads and lassies round
Captain Stewart gives the order
To sail the oceans wide
Where the sun it never sets me lads
Nor darkness dims the sky.

And it's cheer up, me lads
Let your hearts never tire,
For the bonnie ship Red Arrow
Goes a-hunting for the tygre!


Along the quay at Colynesburg
Lads and lassies stand around
Wi' their cloaks all pulled about them
And the salt tears runnin' down
Oh don't you weep, my bonnie lass,
Though you be left behind
For the trillium will grow on Silfern Mere’s ice
Afore we change our mind.

And it's cheer up, me lads
Let your hearts never tire,
For the bonnie ship Red Arrow
Goes a-hunting for the tygre!


Here's a health to the Jaunty Troll,
Likewise the Lord Raffe’s Game
Here's a health to the Eiriksdrakkar
And the Red Arrow ship of fame
We wear the trousers of the white
And the jackets of the green
When we return to Rouge Port,
We'll hae our sweethearts again.

And it's cheer up, me lads
Let your hearts never tire,
For the bonnie ship Red Arrow
Goes a-hunting for the tygre!


It’ll be bright both day and night
When the Silfern Mere lads come hame
Wi' a ship full o' Eastern gold
And glory to our name
We'll make the cradles for to rock
And the blankets for to tear
For the lusty crew o’ the Red Arrow
Are home again no fear!

And it's cheer up, me lads
Let your hearts never tire,
For the bonnie ship Red Arrow
Goes a-hunting for the tygre!

The Age of Septentria

Colyne Stewart, Oct AS XXXVII (2003)

Sung to the tune of The Age of Aquarius from the musical Hair.

When the bear regards the rising moon
And grey wolves race within the night
The northlands will stand with sword
Ursine led to the fight

This is the dawning of the age of Septentria
The age of Septentria
Septentria!
Septentria!

Loyalty and honour bringing
Fealty and foemen ringing
With courage on the bloody field
And true-blow struck upon the shield
Roars of ursine pride and fury
Standing tall while doing duty

When the bear regards the rising moon
And grey wolves race withint he night
The northlands will stand with sword
Ursine led to the fight

This is the dawning of the age of Septentria
The age of Septentria
Septentria!
Septentria!

I’ve got a Bruise

Colyne Stewart, October AS XXXVII (2003)

Sung to the tune of “The Song of the Northern Wanderers” (more often known as “Home”) by Master Hector of the Black Height.

Dedicated to all the fighters mentioned within, who always inspire me to push myself harder.

Chorus:
I’ve got a bruise, bruise, bruise on the list field.
I’ve got a bruise, bruise, the size of Ealdormere (x2)

My bones are tired, my muscles are sore
I don’t know if I’ll fight anymore
I’ve got a big bruise on the side of my leg
From getting hit by a honking big glaive

Chorus

In the Bear Pit I just fought Ron
He had two sticks, I only had one
He beat me so soundly around ‘bout my head
Fifty-two times in one fight I’m dead

Chorus

My shield is dented, my sword is all chipped,
My armour is pierced, and my tabard is ripped,
My helm lies in pieces down on the floor
Rivets, not duct tape, I’ll use ever more

Chorus

Domhnaill hit me right ‘bove the calf
As I dropped dead I could not but laugh
Hidden behind Thorfinna’s round shield
Only Domhnaill’s feet were revealed

Chorus

My Thegn he likes me, I make a great pell
I’m quite the target in the land where I dwell
I have to learn some better defense
Cynred’s head shots are giving me sense

Chorus

I’ve fought with Berus, Ed the red too
And I’ve fought with kings, like good subjects do
Kenric and Wat, whom I both adore
Keep sending me down to lie on the floor

Chorus

I may be battered and I may be bruised
Why do I do it I’ve often mused
Fighting’s such fun, man do I love it,
These signs of affection I’m learning to covet

Chorus

I’m Afraid of Ealdormereans: A Song of the Middle’s Soldiers

Colyne Stewart, July AS XXXVII (2003)

Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah
Dragon’s in Ealdormere
Marching as to War
Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah
This year we’re at odds
And all their soldiers wail
Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah
Dragon’s in Ealdormere

I’m afraid of Eald’mereans
I’m afraid of their Wolves
I’m afraid of their big axe
I’m afraid I am
I’m afraid of Eald’mereans
I’m afraid of their Wolves
I’m afraid of their big axe
I’m afraid I am
I’m afraid of Eald’mereans

Dragon’s in Ealdormere
Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah
Dragon wants a War
Dragon wants to beat up our Knights
Dragon wants a conquest
Dragon wants to knock out our lights
Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah
Dragon’s in Ealdormere
Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah

I’m afraid of Eald’mereans
I’m afraid of their Wolves
I’m afraid of their big axe
I’m afraid I am
I’m afraid of Eald’mereans
I’m afraid of their Wolves
I’m afraid of their big axe
I’m afraid I am
I’m afraid of Eald’mereans

Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah

Dragon’s in Ealdormere
Dragon burns his soldiers’ heels
Dragon primps his scales
Dragon goes looting and steals
Dragon’s in Eald’mere, Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah
Dragon’s in Eald’mere, Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah

I’m afraid of Eald’mereans
I’m afraid of their Wolves
I’m afraid of their big axe
I’m afraid I am
I’m afraid of Eald’mereans
I’m afraid of their Wolves
I’m afraid of their big axe
I’m afraid I am
I’m afraid of Eald’mereans

Odin is an Eald’merean
Odin is an Eald’merean

I’m afraid of Eald’mereans
I’m afraid of their Wolves
I’m afraid of their big axe
I’m afraid I am
I’m afraid of Eald’mereans
I’m afraid of their Wolves
I’m afraid of their big axe
I’m afraid I am

Yeah, I’m afraid of Eald’mereans
I’m afraid of their Wolves
I’m afraid of their big axe
I’m afraid I am
I’m afraid of Eald’mereans
Dragon’s in Eald’mere
Dragon’s in Eald’mere
Dragon’s in Eald’mere, Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah
Dragon’s in Eald’mere, Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah
Dragon’s in Eald’mere, Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah
Dragon’s in Eald’mere, Ah-ah-ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah-ah

I Got You, Brandt

In Honour of Lord Brandt das Lederwerker being squired to Sir Evander MachLachlan*
Sung to the tune of "I Got You, Babe" by Sonny and Cher

by Laird Colyne Stewart and Lady Thorfinna gra'feldr

Evander:    They say that now that I'm a knight,
                   I have to train some others how to fight.

Brandt:             Well, I've been fighting for several years,
                        But to date I've not been doing it for Peers.

Evander:    Brandt. I've got you Brandt. I've got you Brandt.
                        They say you know how to swing a stick,
                        And that your armoured legs are not too thick.

Brandt:             They say you like to gobble food up,
                        But only if its slathered in ketchup.

Evander:    Brandt. I've got you Brandt. I've got you Brandt.
                        I've got butt wraps to cause pain,
                        I've got you to wear my chain.

Brandt:             And when I'm bad...

Evander:    Oh yeah!

Brandt:             You're my dad!

Evander:    I'm your dad!

Brandt:             And you'll straighten me out fast!
                        Don't let 'em say that you're too small,
                        'Cause your heart is bigger then 'em all.

Evander:           Then put my belt about your waist,
                        There's no opposition we can't face.
Brandt. I've got you Brandt. I've got you Brandt.
                        I've got you to wash my car...

Brandt:             I've got you to take me far!

Evander:    I've got you to make me stuff...

Brandt:             I've got you to treat me rough!

Evander:    I've got you to lug my gear...

Brant:               I've got you to install fear!

Evander:    I've got you to mow my grass...

Brandt:             I've got you to kick my ass!

Evander:    I've got you Brandt. (x7)

* A note upon the text. At Brandt's squiring (at Pennsic War XXXII, the "bloody muddy Pennsic") he and Evander sat side by side, the better to conspire together. To onlookers it appeared as if they were gazing into each others’ face. Thorfinna began to hum "I Got You, Brandt" and this is the inevitable result.

Cynred the Baron has Two Wives

By Thorfinna gra’felder and Colyne Stewart, Jan AS XXXVI
Sung to the tune of ‘Alice the Camel’

(After an introduction, that went along the lines of:)

Good gentles, pray pay heed if you would hear a song sung of Cynred. Cynred, Glorious Baron of Septentria. Cynred the strong. Cynred of the axe. Cynred, he whom Gaerwen has asked be publicly mocked. And what, you may ask, was his crime. Well, quite simply:

Cynred the Baron has two wives,
Cynred the Baron has two wives,
Cynred the Baron has two wives,
And Gaerwen look surprised.

Cynred the Baron has three wives,
Cynred the Baron has three wives,
Cynred the Baron has three wives,
He bought them for some sheep.

Cynred the Baron has four wives,
Cynred the Baron has four wives,
Cynred the Baron has four wives,
And Gaerwen’s not impressed.

Cynred the Baron has five wives,
Cynred the Baron has five wives,
Cynred the Baron has five wives,
And Gaerwen screams in rage!

Cynred the Baron has six wives,
Cynred the Baron has six wives,
Cynred the Baron has six wives,
And Gaerwen’s got a knife.

Cynred the Baron has seven wives,
Cynred the Baron has seven wives,
Cynred the Baron has seven wives,
So run, Cynred, run!

Cynred the Baron has eight wives,
Cynred the Baron has eight wives,
Cynred the Baron has eight wives,
Now Gaerwen’s got his beard.

Cynred the Baron has one wife,
Cynred the Baron has one wife,
Cynred the Baron has one wife,
Because he wants to keep his…head.

Aweigh, Saint Cris

Based on Aweigh, Santy Ano (trad.)
Laird Colyne Stewart

Saint Cris (or more accurately, Saint Crispinus) is the patron saint of Ardchreag.

Lyrics

From Ardchreag we're bound away,
Heave aweigh (Heave aweigh!) Saint Cris.
Around
Cape Boar to Dragon Bay,
We're bound for Pennsic’s bliss.

So Heave her up and away we'll go,
Heave aweigh (Heave aweigh!) Saint Cris.
Heave her up and away we'll go,
We're bound for Pennsic’s bliss.


She's a fast frigate ship and a bully crew,
Heave aweigh (Heave aweigh!) Saint Cris.
An up-north Scot for her captain, too.
We're bound for Pennsic’s bliss.

So Heave her up and away we'll go,
Heave aweigh (Heave aweigh!) Saint Cris.
Heave her up and away we'll go,
We're bound for Pennsic’s bliss.


Back in the days of Forty AS,
Heave aweigh (Heave aweigh!) Saint Cris.
Those were the days of the good excess,
Way out in Pennsic’s bliss.

So Heave her up and away we'll go,
Heave aweigh (Heave aweigh!) Saint Cris.
Heave her up and away we'll go,
We're bound for Pennsic’s bliss.


There's plenty of gold, so I've been told,
Heave aweigh (Heave aweigh!) Saint Cris.
Plenty of gold so I've been told
Way out in Pennsic’s bliss.

So Heave her up and away we'll go,
Heave aweigh (Heave aweigh!) Saint Cris.
Heave her up and away we'll go,
We're bound for Pennsic’s bliss.


When I leave ship I'll fight for the Crown,
Heave aweigh (Heave aweigh!) Saint Cris.
For my kingdom I’ll win renown,
Way out in Pennsic’s bliss.

So Heave her up and away we'll go,
Heave aweigh (Heave aweigh!) Saint Cris.
Heave her up and away we'll go,
We're bound for Pennsic’s bliss.

The A-Song

By Colyne Stewart and Thorfinna gra’feldr

(based on ‘Hey, Hey, the Wolves Will Bay’, better known as ‘The E-Song’, by Master Hector of the Black Height)

I’ll sing you one-o,
Hey, hey, the Chreaggers say,
What is your one-o?
One for the cliffs of Ardchreag that ever more shall be so.

I’ll sing you two-o,
Hey, hey, the Chreaggers say,
What is your two-o?
Two-two, myself and you, we wave our banner proudly
and one for the cliffs of Ardchreag that ever more shall be so.

I’ll sing you three-o,
Hey, hey, the Chreaggers say,
What is your three-o?
Three-three for our newbies (whoop!)
Two-two, myself and you, we wave our banner proudly
and one for the cliffs of Ardchreag that ever more shall be so.

I’ll sing you four-o,
Hey, hey, the Chreaggers say,
What is your four-o?
Four for our olde pharte veterans
Three-three for our newbies (whoop!)
Two-two, myself and you, we wave our banner proudly
and one for the cliffs of Ardchreag that ever more shall be so.

I’ll sing you five-o,
Hey, hey, the Chreaggers say,
What is your five-o?
Five for the green bison
Four for our olde pharte veterans
Three-three for our newbies (whoop!)
Two-two, myself and you, we wave our banner proudly
and one for the cliffs of Ardchreag that ever more shall be so.

I’ll sing you six-o,
Hey, hey, the Chreaggers say,
What is your six-o?
Six for the bread ball battles
Five for the green bison
Four for our olde pharte veterans
Three-three for our newbies (whoop!)
Two-two, myself and you, we wave our banner proudly
and one for the cliffs of Ardchreag that ever more shall be so.

I’ll sing you seven-o,
Hey, hey, the Chreaggers say,
What is your seven-o?
Seven for the flying turtles
Six for the bread ball battles
Five for the green bison
Four for our olde pharte veterans
Three-three for our newbies (whoop!)
Two-two, myself and you, we wave our banner proudly
and one for the cliffs of Ardchreag that ever more shall be so.

I’ll sing you eight-o,
Hey, hey, the Chreaggers say,
What is your eight-o?
Eight for the armour workshops
Seven for the flying turtles
Six for the bread ball battles
Five for the green bison
Four for our olde pharte veterans
Three-three for our newbies (whoop!)
Two-two, myself and you, we wave our banner proudly
and one for the cliffs of Ardchreag that ever more shall be so.

I’ll sing you nine-o,
Hey, hey, the Chreaggers say,
What is your nine-o?
Nine for our corps of archers
Eight for the armour workshops
Seven for the flying turtles
Six for the bread ball battles
Five for the green bison
Four for our olde pharte veterans
Three-three for our newbies (whoop!)
Two-two, myself and you, we wave our banner proudly
and one for the cliffs of Ardchreag that ever more shall be so.

I’ll sing you ten-o,
Hey, hey, the Chreaggers say,
What is your ten-o?
Ten for the Great Bonfire
Nine for our corps of archers
Eight for the armour workshops
Seven for the flying turtles
Six for the bread ball battles
Five for the green bison
Four for our olde pharte veterans
Three-three for our newbies (whoop!)
Two-two, myself and you, we wave our banner proudly
and one for the cliffs of Ardchreag that ever more shall be so.

A-Frame

Colyne Stewart, Sep AS XXXVII (2003)

Sung to the tune of Inch Worm, by Frank Loesser

A-Frame, A-Frame,
Keeping out the elements.
‘Cross the sea, it comes with me
To try and keep me dry.

(Chorus:)
Drink and drink some ale,
Ale, I’ll have some more.
More leaves me standing in the rain.
Raining, it’s raining, its gonna pour.

A-Frame, A-Frame,
Not Keeping out the elements.
Its got a hole, up by the pole
I ain’t gonna be so dry.

(Repeat Chorus)

A-Frame, A-Frame,
Not Keeping out the elements.
Into the sea, I leave it be
For not keeping me so dry.

Stand with the Bear (song)

Laird Colyne Stewart, Feb AS 37 (2003)

Stand with the Bear in the shieldwall—
Ew-ra-ew-ra
Our bear banner shall never fall—
Ew-ra-oh

Stand with the Bear in the red field—
Ew-ra-ew-ra
Septentria will never yield—
Ew-ra-oh

Stand with the Bear in the dark woods—
Ew-ra-ew-ra
Kill all the foemen, take all their goods—
Ew-ra-oh

Stand with the Bear in the wet rain—
Ew-ra-ew-ra
Marks of honour our bruises and pain—
Ew-ra-oh

Stand with the Bear in the stone fort—
Ew-ra-ew-ra
Tell of glory later in court—
Ew-ra-oh

Stand with the Bear on the great bridge—
Ew-ra-ew-ra
Blaze with the might of northern courage—
Ew-ra-oh

Stand with the Bear in the shieldwall—
Ew-ra-ew-ra
Our bear banner shall never fall—
Ew-ra-ew-ra-ew-ra-oh

(We Fight for Septentria) Ursine Born

Laird Colyne Stewart, Jan AS XXXVII (2003)

Bears fight in the heat of a blazing sun
Bears fight in the chill of a winter morn
Bears fight for honour and they fight for fun
We fight for Septentria, ursine born.

We stand on the field at the break of day
We charge on the field, our foe runs away
We cheer on the field as we take the day
We fight for Septentria, ursine born.

Bears fight in the heat of a blazing sun
Bears fight in the chill of a winter morn
Bears fight for honour and they fight for fun
We fight for Septentria, ursine born.

Finnvarr built the very first hall
The first Baroness, Gillian d’Uriel
The first northern colour scarlet all
They fought for Septentria, ursine born.

Aedan’s blood runs in our veins
Caffa’s spear with red blood stains
Well ruled Adrielle, first with Ieuan
They fought for Septentria, ursine born.

Bears fight in the heat of a blazing sun
Bears fight in the chill of a winter morn
Bears fight for honour and they fight for fun
We fight for Septentria, ursine born.

D’Arnot shortly led they way
Cynred and Gaerwen later held sway
Now Galbraiths claim the day
They fight for Septentria, ursine born.

Of hero stock our race was bred
We bleed bright white and we bleed bright red
Our banner won’t fall unless we’re dead
We fight for Septentria, ursine born.

Bears fight in the heat of a blazing sun
Bears fight in the chill of a winter morn
Bears fight for honour and they fight for fun
We fight for Septentria, ursine born.

Bears fight in the heat of a blazing sun
Bears fight in the chill of a winter morn
Bears fight for honour and they fight for fun
We fight for Septentria, ursine born.

Upon the Passing of the Khan of Ealdormere

Colyne Stewart, Oct AS XXXVII (2003)

Once the leaves were scarlet, once the leaves were red,
Once our King was living, but now the Khan is dead.
One sunny day in fall time he went out on the hunt,
Setting out on horseback, riding to the front
With his loyal guardsmen and Duchess by his side.
He set upon the game trail; t’would be his final ride.
An arrow whistled from the dark and struck him in the eye,
A hero from the steppe-lands, a hero meant to die.
Bahadur we called him, knight in Western lands,
Keen with wit and wisdom, generous with his hands.
A man like this makes enemies of unseelie souls,
These creatures hated goodness, they hated lofty goals,
And so they sent an archer of hate and shadow formed,
Hidden in the red trees past which hunters stormed.
Once the leaves were scarlet, once the leaves were red,
Once our King was living, but now the Khan is dead.
Carried by the Kashek, carried to his Queen,
His body placed upon the grass, red upon the green.
The people then they grieved him, railed against their loss,
Cried for Sarnac Bahadur, who bled upon the moss.
Some say they saw his glowing shade dressed in snowy white
Watching as his followers bemoaned their awful plight.
He kneeled beside his children, as Roak took the Crown,
His noble face lost in the grass, his hands upon the ground.
And as his children stepped away, the Khan began to fade,
Leaving naught but steel-clad bone within the leafy glade.
Once the leaves were scarlet, once the leaves were red,
Once our King was living, but now the Khan is dead.

Untitled Poem for Cynred and Gaerwen

Lady Thorfinna gra’feldr and Laird Colyne Stewart, Feb AS 37 (2003)

Bright glory of the northern sky
Reflects within the baron's eye.
His tired sword is in his grasp;
His hand to beating breast is clasped.

For four long years he's led the land
And marched across the Pennsic sand,
Kept kinsmen from the tygre's maw,
Small Badger, Cynred is the Claw.

The river's beauty flows for miles
Within the baroness's smile.
Her nimble fingers spinning wool
Her promise to the northland full

With open arms she's held the land
To all extended welcome's hand
Encouraged us in war or art
None doubt that Gaerwen's the Heart

Poet and artist was the thegn-  
At times of peace within his reign
With ringing hammer rough to feel
He poured blood's labour into steel.

Gentle voice raised song to air,
Pride in his folk large as the bear,
To make all feel they have a part;
He is a Claw, but too a Heart.  

Her banner flies like scarlet flame
And marches south with each campaign
As scout or archer bending bow
With bear's keen eye her arrow's go

In court and wartime just and fair
She fierce protector of the bear
By love and deed the people saw
A Heart she is, but too a Claw.

Now in the sunset of their reign
They know that naught was done in vain
The legacy will carry on
Long after they have come and gone

And now the thrones are filled anew
By ravens beating blood so blue,
With two new hearts and two new claws
glory to Septentria!

To Sarnac, Lupine Highness of Ealdormere, Upon the Occasion of His Knighting

Colyne Stewart, March AS XXXVI (2001)

Hear my words new Ba’adur1.
Though new to these lands, you do I know.
When tales were told of chivalry,
Of bravery on the battlefield,
Always your name did I hear.
At War I saw you inducted into our Kingdom’s martial order.
I have watched you fight, as others have watched you fight,
And those who wear the white belts and baldrics have deemed you worthy
To join their Great Order.
At Winter War you were invested
And I saw the love that the people have for you.
I saw the other Heroes who traveled from kingdoms far
To be with you that day.
I watched as blessed spurs were placed upon your feet,
As a chain that had long been awaiting that day was placed about your neck,
As a sash made by your Princess was placed about your waist,
As a sword from the east was placed in your hands,
Blows exchanged, horns drunk
And you now Ba’adur, proud Sarnac.
But with this privilege comes great responsibility.
You must now act as the leopard, tiger and bear2 to us,
The people.
We who look to you for guidance, both as Ba’adur and Prince.
You are our protector, our leader.
Teach us to live in tegsh3.
Sit beside the hoimor4 and contemplate
The universe reflected in your ger5.
I see the fire in your eyes,
Reflections of the gal golomt6
And I am at ease.
You are worthy Ba’adur.
You have high hiimori7
From past deeds you have done,
And I see it, glowing white,
Growing greater as the years progress.
Your ancestors you will make proud,
And we will follow you.
Ba’adur,
May your bow shoot straight,
May your blade find its target,
May your heart remain true,
May Father Heaven and Mother Earth succor you,
May you lead your people well.
Ba’adur,
We are yours.

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1.                     Ba’adur is Mongolian for Hero, and is Sarnac’s new surname as a Knight.
2.                     Three of the highest-ranking animals in Mongolian shamanism.
3.                     To live in balance.
4.                     The north side of the ger, the holy seat behind the fire. A place for holy objects.
5.                     A tent, often called a yurt in the West.
6.         The daughter of Father Heaven who lives in the fires that are placed in the center of gers.
7.         Also known as windhorse; personal psychic power gained through living well and honourably.

Note on this Piece:
This is told as from the point of view of a Siberian Mongolian shaman, in a style similar to their ritual chants.

To Garraed Galbraith upon the Occasion of his Vigil for the Order of the Laurel (Pennsic XXXI)

Colyne Stewart, Aug. AS XXXVII (2003)

A belt snaps in the air
A voice rises up in song
And I am swept away
In words that shape my spirit,
In words that shape my Kingdom.
This bard whose voice comes like rolling thunder
Who swells my heart with pride
Who sings in hall and field,
In sun and rain,
He is an inspiration to me
As a bard
(without him my pen would be silent)
And as an Ealdormerean.
Our Kingdom owes him debts unpayable
As the Wolves give voice to all his songs.
This scholar-bard,
Singer-writer, Honourable Lord,
More worthy to be Olagh than any other.
Never stop writing
Never stop singing
Long let your voice rise in the North.

To Baroness Adrielle Kerrec, Upon her Induction into the Order of the Pelican

(Pennsic War XXXII, August 2003)

Laird Colyne Stewart

A bird who flies above the rest
Does plunge her beak within her breast
To care for all within her nest.

To Baron Sir Siegfried Brandbeorn, Upon his Induction into the Order of Chivalry

(Pennsic War XXXII, August 2003)

Laird Colyne Stewart

Upon a brooding cliff awash in foam,
Amid the tall trees thick and verdant green,
The fiery bird of lore there makes its home,
To be born again in smoke and steam;
Once perched upon the old Duke’s sturdy arm,
The phoenix flies unfettered, bold and free;
Its claws are gentle or they can cause harm
As sure as flashing swords of chivalry;
Bright blue, stark white, its regal wings stretched wide
To shelter those over whome’er it flies,
To sally forth with knights whene’er they ride,
To be reborn again whene’er it dies;
A bird who’s brilliant plumage is so fair,
A symbol of one man, one knight, so rare.

This Winter Night

Colyne Stewart, Jan AS XXXVI (2002)

My armour is cold, in places too tight
My breath plumes around me
                                                This winter night
The Baron had called me, called me to fight
As I stood on the field
This winter night

The snow falls around me, heavy and white
Red banners flap slowly
                                                This winter night
A group of great geese go by me in flight
As I stand on the field
                                                This winter night

The charge had been called, I ran out to fight
Praying I’d live to see
                                                This winter night
The battle was met, and I filled with fright
Wishing that I’d still see
                                                This winter night

I fought with the foe, they filled all my sight
Their armour as black as
                                                This winter night
I heard my liege call from off on my right
I fought so he would see
                                                This winter night

The Baron was pressed from the left and right
The enemy pressed with
                                                All of their might
I threw myself forward on their blades bright
Still hoping I would see
                                                This winter night

The Baron still lives, we put them to flight
Though my armour is cold
                                                Stained red and white
My spirit flew past my teeth in a bite
As I laid dying on
                                                This winter night

The snow falls around me, heavy and white
Red banners flap slowly
                                                This winter night
My spirit still stands for my Baron’s light
As I stand on the field
                                                This winter night