Book: Dwarven Chants

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*Enclosed within this leather-bound book, are various works pertaining to Dwarven rune chants ranging from nursery rhymes for younglings, to rune chants used in battle by Clan of Fellhammer.  

Although Book contains a publication marking of Sava Haun of the Shrouded Isle Syndicate Library, the information contained within the book was obtained from someone within Clan Fellhammer.  Upon reading the works, the reader could deduce that each of the works were from during different time periods, seemingly indicated they have been passed down over time.  

A small inscription with a seal of Clan Fellhammer reads "May thee knowledge of mine kin be kept safe and with Moradin's will, be shared to all of thee son's and daughters of his allies.*

~The following is a rune chant was historically used by three Runecasters of Clan Fellhammer, during their acts of expanding territory:

Runes for leaving, runes for change,
Fairing forth to a land thats strange,
Runes of winging, runes of wind,
To see ye to successful end.

A journey safe that cannot fail
With runes to guide and protect from hail.
Runes to keep ye from thee cold
To step upon ye pathway bold

Ye shall not come to harm, nor drown
But in new lands settle down
Rest once done and build warm hearth
Gain and gift in a goodly garth.

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~The following is a very old Dwarven nursery rhyme that was historically communicated to younglings of Adbar:

A kinsman went a'marketing, he bought a bag of coal.
He took it to his forge to feed thee fire and his goal.
He smelted out some nails and he pounded out a mold,
And fixed the door of a neighbor's house to keep away thee cold.

A kinsman was a'ferrieing, he made a little shoe.
He made it just the perfect size, at seventeen two
He took it to his pony and he gave thee shoe for free,
And then got back to work so he could make thee other three.

A Kinsman went a'marketing, he bought a lump of clay.
He took it home and molded it and rolled it half the day.
He baked it in thee kiln and out came a little jug,
And in it kept the finest beer that ever filled a mug.

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~The following is the war chant of thee Iron Guard at the battle of Un-numbered Tears:

Time rolls on in thee great halls below,
Hammer strikes, metals glow.
Anvil sings to summon kings.

Flesh and mail,
Fire and hail,
Hark our tale.

Ware thee clamor, fear our might.
Lead us to battle, thy enemy in sight.
Unbroken glories to bespoken stories.

First for glory,
then for pride,
battle with honor,
to do or die.

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~Enclosed is a Dwarven chant that is rarely heard by non-Dwarven blood.  It is often sung at thee boar feasts, before thee day of wedlock:

The Elven lasses have long legs,
Hoo ha, hoo ha!
Though Elven lasses have long legs,
When a dwarf's between 'em then they begs.
Ho hoo hah hey!

The Elven ladies sing so fine,
Hoo ha, hoo ha!
Since Elven ladies sing so fine,
Dwarves prefer their taste to wine.
Ho hoo hah hey!

The Gnomish girls are short and stout,
Hoo ha, hoo ha!
Though Gnomish girls are short and stout,
A dwarf can always wear them out.
Ho hoo hah hey!

The Human babes have chests like kegs,
Hoo ha, hoo ha!
Though Human babes have chests like kegs,
A dwarf can drain 'em to the dregs.
Ho hoo hah hey!

A Hobbit wench cooks very hot,
Hoo ha, hoo ha!
A Hobbit wench cooks very hot,
Once a dwarf finds her proper pot.
Ho hoo hah hey!

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~Enclosed is a sonnet, told to Lord Durgrim, first born of Argrim, by his mother as a youngling.  This sonnet has been passed down by his ancestors, which he provided to the public as a gift:

Skalf Fellhammer, short in size, in courage towered high.
Unto thee lair of Graug he stepped, nay fear lest he should die.
Fortune blessed him with her kiss, for thus thee beast it slept.
Over thee gold and rainbow stone, thee youngest Dwarf he crept.
Thee bones of men of virtue high lay scattered where they fell,
for honour had they meath their death, did noble lives they sell.
For many centuries had thee dragon lain upon its cache.
Little did thy dread wyrm dream that it had met its match.
In his hand thee young Dwarf bore an ancient runic blade.
Upon the open neck of Graug, the deepest cut it made.
In the cavern did it rain a shower of gem and gold,
as ancient beast formed dance of death, slain by thy Dwarf so bold.
Dragonslayer and his kin did city lay their claim.
In Karak Adbar to this day do Clan Fellhammer remain.
To seek a fortune, risking death a small toll must you pay.
But fare ye strong in courage then to Adbar make your way.

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~Enclosed is a chant provided by Lord Jarl Fellhammer, which has been passed down to his ancestors:

In caverns so deep, and lairs ice cold,
in halls that will keep, their secrets of old,
a dwarf did forge rings, from bright magic gold,
thee shine â€" mythril things, and charms untold.

Great dwarven gifts, of power â€" rune light,
And only thee dwarf knew, of coming Saeth might.
So with all haste, were sent to noble lords hands,
And let not time waste, deep in dwarf lands.

Thee dwarf-smith he won, gifts to Lord Jarl and his kin,
With power of only one, thee runes gave might of ten.
And in this Thanes Hall, they drove a valiant pact,
To be Moradin's maul, and thus they would act.

This evil was born, in black and the mist,
Of God and great Giant, from dark-things did tryst.
A blood-wight found, of fire was it made,
Of Ysgard power bound, to Adbar was it bade.

Thee Ettin brought blight, to village and town,
Though many would fight, all would be thrown down.
Draught it would make, from souls it would steal,
The bodies it would take, for blood was its meal.

Lord Jarl was strong, like Moradin was wise,
Gathered his throng, and planned a surprise.
Past evening in night, would kill in battle,
This Giant in Twilight, to Hell’s lands nay tattle.

With axe and with hammer, they move to attack,
but with a banes fear, drove Lord Jarl and his kin back.
The Giants charms wrought, of ice and ire,
The Ettin had bought, its time in spell fire.

“I am of Stronskor, and Ice-Giant kin!
Of blood magic born, you can not win!”
Thee blood-wights hand, drew saeth charms in air.
And thee faith of thy warband, was crushed and laid bare.

But thee rings they shone bright, in the dark of this charm,
And from golden dwarf light, were delivered from harm.
“A pox on ye Giant! A curse on ye head!
Thy charms lay broken, and soon you’ll lie dead!”

Thee creature it laughed, its croon was like death,
“I’ll fell you this day, and drink your last breath!”
With brandished spear, the Ettin did stalk,
He smirked and he jeered, there attacks he did balk!

And Lord Jarl did not give, though was drove to a ledge,
and though he’d not live, would cut with runic axe edge.
Thee giant, it gored, with chasms cold wind,
The two titans roared, and refused to bend.

Thee two tested steel, and strength â€" Beast against Lord,
But thee giant would kneel, only with one accord.
Thee giants strife, was silenced with thee kill.
But Lord Jarl lost his life, and bled onto the hill.

Thee body of Jarl, was placed on a shrine,
And by thee Honor guard, all looked upon as divine.
Thee hearts of these kin, rose with their Lord,
With axe and body flaming, went to peaceful Dwarfhold.

Lord Jarl did rise, from shadow and shade,
To Moradin’s great Hall, was this warrior Lord bade.
His story now told, thee runes now risted,
In Dwarfhome song bold, his deeds they are listed.

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