Journeying Song

By THLaird Colyne Stewart, AS 50 (2015)

Row the oars or spur the horse,

Hey-de-hi-oh!

Maps or stars to chart the course,

Hey-de-hi-yah!

Across the land we pilgrims go

Along the laneways to and fro

Our progress made we stop to eat

To feast on grain and wine and meat

To distant kingdoms sally forth

So boldly wolf-folk of the north

To deeds take part in other lands

And show the strength of northern hands

Row the oars or spur the horse,

Hey-de-hi-oh!

Maps or stars to chart the course,

Hey-de-hi-yah!

Oh, knights and squires, artisans,

Go travel to expand your clans

For there is more to see and do

Than only what is close to you

Row the oars or spur the horse,

Hey-de-hi-oh!

Maps or stars to chart the course,

Hey-de-hi-yah!

The Stag and Lion, Tiger bright,

The Griffon, Falcon taking flight,

Our Dragon-mother, wolf you know,

So make more friends where e’er you go

Row the oars or spur the horse,

Hey-de-hi-oh!

Maps or stars to chart the course,

Hey-de-hi-yah!

Row the oars or spur the horse,

Hey-de-hi-oh!

Maps or stars to chart the course,

Hey-de-hi-yah!

Written as a videra—a lyric genre of the Catalan and Occitan troubadours. They were dance songs designed to lighten the mood during a long voyage or journey. They were not often written by cultivated poets as the genre was considered low-brow. Also known as  viadeyra and viandla.

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