Colyne's Poetry: December 2010

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!

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!

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

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

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, 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,

And Gaerwen look surprised.

Cynred the Baron has three wives,

He bought them for some sheep.

Cynred the Baron has four wives,

And Gaerwen’s not impressed.

Cynred the Baron has five wives,

And Gaerwen screams in rage!

Cynred the Baron has six wives,

And Gaerwen’s got a knife.

Cynred the Baron has seven wives,

So run, Cynred, run!

Cynred the Baron has eight wives,

Now Gaerwen’s got his beard.

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