Abigail's Songbook

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

[tface=salt]Abigail's Songbook[/tface]

The following is a collection of songs written by the extraordinarily talented and breathtakingly lovely Abigail Nightal. Read them and enjoy, but to fully appreciate the cunning and skill of these works one must hear the minstrel herself perform.

She can often be found singing her little heart out at the Mist's End Tavern, both these compositions within this book, and those she has learned during her vast travels. Truly an experience one cannot miss.

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

The Agony

   

Brave souls, old and young, Off into the woods to conquer.

 

Yet what they found, horror untold, “Please gods kill me!”

 

A dozen faces, maybe more, a dozen voices cry out.

 

“Stab me, maim me, burn me, slay me. Who will kill me?”

   

Without hope, without rest, without sense beyond,

 

Pain felt with ev’ry breath, ev’ry thought an agony.

 

It walks the lands now, friends’ faces twist as they scream.

 

“Stab me, maim me, burn me, slay me. Who will kill me?”

   

But those that hear they turn and run, terror freezes blood.

 

Each bold voice quavers in its face, brave swords turn and flee.

 

And still on it hunts as a Maiden’s joke, her laughter in its ears.

 

“Stab me, maim me, burn me, slay me. Who will kill me?”

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

Legend in Blue and Gold

   

Pull up a chair and listen close to a tale of wonder and woe,

 

I speak this day of a brave man whom the ladies surely know.

 

His blue and gold do sparkle bright under the blazing sun,

 

His teeth as well shine whitely, a thousand hearts are won!

   

Now our hero’s duty is never done, his virtue knows no bounds.

 

Those who witness his slashing blade feel safe and wholly sound.

 

He stands in the face of snarly foe, foul brigand and even worse!

 

To save us all from the direst fate, and fill the privy purse.

   

But where this legend truly shines, his tale most oft’ told,

 

Is in the chambers of many a maid, both young and very old.

 

It takes him merely an instant, a slight pause in his patrols,

 

To cut them down one by one and leave ‘fore tea is cold.

   

“Gregor!” they call, “Gregor!” they cry, “Stay a small bit more!

 

Surely you can find more time, at least past minute four!”

 

But the brave man merely shakes his head, a twinkle in his eye,

 

And departs with nary a word, poor maid left high and dry.

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

Qaraja

   

Ohhh! …our hero comes from lands afar,

 

And sailed to Ymph in time of war!

 

So listen to this tale of trouble,

 

Of a man as cunning as cudgel.

   

Qaraja! Qaraja!

 

So very sly while you are not.

 

With powdered tush and eyes so pretty!

 

Come to grace our besieged city.

   

A plan he hatched, a plot so thick,

 

Seemed no one could bridle this…man.

 

But in truth he’s a humble soul,

 

Wants nothing more than to take control.

   

Standing not-so-tall against the Baron,

 

Like a not-so-enthralling rapscallion.

 

His lilting voice so clear and grating,

 

Quite like a pair pigeons mating.

   

Qaraja! Qaraja!

 

So very sly while you are not.

 

With powdered tush and eyes so pretty!

 

Come to grace our besieged city.

   

But fortune’s cruel to men of vision,

 

As our hero found naught but derision.

 

Til’ fateful day he crossed a knight,

 

And ran and cowered from the fight.

   

But sadly he was apprehended,

 

And forced to fight whom he’d offended.

 

Begging, pleading for his life,

 

Our hero died as the brave knight’s wife.

   

Qaraja! Qaraja!

 

So very sly while you are not.

 

With powdered tush and eyes so pretty!

 

Come to grace our besieged city.

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

May the Stars Go Dark

 

Commissioned by Baron Khavenko

   

May the stars go dark when you’re away,

 

My heart grows empty and dark.

 

For without you, my dear, light flees the day,

 

Laments are sung by the lark.

   

Irska, I see you stroll gently by,

 

Sorrow trails in your wake.

 

For this is not home, how can I provide,

 

And make your passions awake?

   

Perhaps, I think, you shall see me here,

 

And know my lament is true.

 

Silence between us, but you’re so near.

 

All I wish is to cherish you.

   

Irska, I see you stroll gently by,

 

Sorrow trails in your wake.

 

For this is not home, how can I provide,

 

And make your passions awake?

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

My Dearest Molly

   

My love she took a ship to rolling sea,

 

Bound off the coast of Waterdeep.

 

But fool was she, mocking the deeps,

 

A constant nag, I shall not weep.

   

“Why should I give prayer, my faith is strong!

 

I bow only to the rising dawn.”

 

These words she spoke ‘fore she set sail,

 

She rests in the belly of a vengeful whale.

   

Oh Queen of the Deeps, Oh Bitch of the Seas,

 

We offer our prayers, we aim to please.

 

You took my love, for this I’m happy,

 

A stupid girl, now cold and clammy.

   

I heard a tale once of a captain,

 

Who shook his fist, railed with great passion.

 

Thought his skill could defeat the Bitch,

 

In crushing depths his corpse does twitch.

   

Even if the sun above be glowing,

 

And fair winds strong astern be blowing.

 

A spurned Queen she ne’er forgets,

 

‘Fore overlong she’ll call in your debts.

   

Oh Queen of the Deeps, Oh Bitch of the Seas,

 

We offer our prayers, we aim to please.

 

You took my love, for this I’m happy,

 

A stupid girl, now cold and clammy.

   

Just as one does not taunt the lightning,

 

Or Lord of Storms shall preach most frightening.

 

The churning seas rise to show your folly,

 

And you’ll join my dearest, nagging Molly.

   

Oh Queen of the Deeps, Oh Bitch of the Seas,

 

We offer our prayers, we aim to please.

 

You took my love, for this I’m happy,

 

A stupid girl, now cold and clammy.

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

A Hunter of the Deep

   

Through tunnels deep, past dangers dire,

 

A small band ventures, brave souls inspired.

 

In depths things lurk, watching what nears,

 

Feeding on even the bravest’s fears.

   

But on this day our travelers know,

 

For with them walks with gleaming bow.

 

An elf of skill, an elf of heart,

 

Eyes so keen, and boots so smart!

   

Oh! Have no fear, lads! The Hunter’s near, lads!

 

They wouldn’t dare, lads! He’s got much flair, lads!

 

A’lteric’s a dead shot,

 

Firing for the tender spot!

   

But on this fateful day did they meet,

 

An orc of legend, striding on cat’s feet.

 

The Whisper stepped from depths so deep,

 

Wishing to bring eternal sleep.

   

So battle rang throughout these caves,

 

Blood and shouts, both in great waves.

 

A fight so pitched, so very violent,

 

No more the deeps resound so silent.

   

Oh! Have no fear, lads! The Hunter’s near, lads!

 

They wouldn’t dare, lads! He’s got much flair, lads!

 

A’lteric’s a dead shot,

 

Firing for the tender spot!

   

Yet with much fighting, much blood shed,

 

They floored the Whisper, they smacked his head.

 

But swift as a deer, agile as a cat,

 

He hopped up again, fled off like a bat.

   

But not satisfied, indeed not quite happy,

 

The Hunter fired off one final volley,

 

His shaft sped off, a shot most blind,

 

Aiming for the Whisper’s behind!

   

Oh! Have no fear, lads! The Hunter’s near, lads!

 

They wouldn’t dare, lads! He’s got much flair, lads!

 

A’lteric’s a dead shot,

 

Firing for the tender spot!

   

To this very day the orcs of the mountains,

 

Cunningly craft devices in the thousands.

 

So one day should the Hunter again near,

 

They’ve plates to guard their precious rears!

   

Oh! Have no fear, lads! The Hunter’s near, lads!

 

They wouldn’t dare, lads! He’s got much flair, lads!

 

A’lteric’s a dead shot,

 

Firing for the tender spot!

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

Dark Coffers

   

So begins a tale of a man, a man most dashing and clever,

 

He plotted and schemed to get oh so rich in a single daring endeavor.

 

A nobleman held jewels and gems very dear to his heart,

 

The clever man sought to slip very near, to steal these works of art.

   

But as is fate, the clever’st of men aren’t always so very wise,

 

When it comes to it greed often wins when reaching for shiny prize.

 

A priest caught wind amongst the shadows, hearing of the clever plot,

 

He came to the clever man with words of insurance easily bought.

   

For the skulk for the thief to keep it sly,

 

From the ears of the watch, or surely die.

 

A few pennies, a shiny gem will do quite well,

 

To dark coffers where shadows dwell.

   

But the clever man just turned and smiled, “I’ve no need, now go away.”

 

“The shadows don’t talk, my secrets are safe, I’ll be so very rich later this day.”

 

The priest shrugged, unperturbed, “I’ve heard this before from better men.”

 

“They lay dead, their secrets broken, the voiceless speak now and again.”

   

“But have your way, you’ll soon learn fast.” With that he simply left.

 

Now the clever man gave not a second thought, his mind set on the theft.

 

Waiting for dark, sliding through streets ‘til he stood ‘fore the mansion,

 

High stone walls the only challenge ‘tween him and fated fortune.

   

For the skulk for the thief to keep it sly,

 

From the ears of the watch, or surely die.

 

A few pennies, a shiny gem will do quite well,

 

To dark coffers where shadows dwell.

   

Eagerly he climbed the wall, hand over hand riches await,

 

Onto the quiet roof he slipped, but what he saw made heart deflate.

 

For waiting there was the nobleman, ‘side him a familiar face,

 

Priest whisp’ring in nobleman’s ear just ‘fore he fell into space.

   

For the skulk for the thief to keep it sly,

 

From the ears of the watch, or surely die.

 

A few pennies, a shiny gem will do quite well,

 

To dark coffers where shadows dwell.

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

Bone Man

   

We cannot in good faith welcome you, rattle rattle, clank clank.

 

When Bone Man brings naught but our doom, rattle rattle, clank clank.

 

Listen close these words, it won’t take long, rattle rattle, clank clank.

 

Harken to the young maid’s rolling song. rattle rattle, clank clank.

   

Bone Man, Bone Man, don’t you cry,

 

For the bone you’re missing ‘tween the thighs.

 

‘Tis a shame for we maids would roll over,

 

But for now our nights ‘ll be much colder.

   

From deep below we hear you march, rattle rattle, clank clank.

 

Through dark and muck and fallen arch, rattle rattle, clank clank.

 

You come, they say, with sword and spell, rattle rattle, clank clank,

 

Kill us all and make darkness swell, rattle rattle clank clank.

 
 

Bone Man, Bone Man, don’t you cry,

 

For the bone you’re missing ‘tween the thighs.

 

‘Tis a shame for we maids would roll over,

 

But for now our nights ‘ll be much colder.

   

So go back to whence you came before, rattle rattle, clank clank,

 

Take your swords and spells and nasty war, rattle rattle, clank clank.

 

Learn a thing or two ‘bout what’s required, rattle rattle, clank clank.

 

Have your mages work on what’s desired, rattle rattle, clank clank.

   

Bone Man, Bone Man, don’t you cry,

 

For the bone you’re missing ‘tween the thighs.

 

‘Tis a shame for we maids would roll over,

 

But for now our nights ‘ll be much colder.

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

Dying to Sneeze

   

Ha ha ha, blood will flow,

 

The puppet dancing to and fro.

 

Yo ho ho, watch her fly,

 

On ‘er hooks, hoist her high!

   

Burning bleeding, release ‘em from their misery,

 

Singing slaying, all for liberty.

   

Ha ha ha, sweetest meats,

 

Gnawing on their tiny feet.

 

Yo ho ho, jester’s cry

 

Laughing at the sky.

   

Burning bleeding, release ‘em from their misery,

 

Singing slaying, all for liberty.

   

Ha ha ha, a gentle priest,

 

Lord of the maddened feast.

 

Yo ho ho, pour the ale,

 

On the men they impale.

   

Burning bleeding, release ‘em from their misery,

 

Singing slaying, all for liberty.

   

Ha ha ha, hold your nose,

 

Turning from the nasty rose.

 

Yo ho ho, rotten breeze.

 

E’eryone dies to sneeze.

 

Achoo!

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

Oh Blackgem!

   

Under bough within a Misty wood,

 

A brigand stalked, the villain meant no good.

 

But he found his end where Blackgem stood,

 

Cut in half like only dwarf axe could!

   

With a cut and a hew, and a crush and smash,

 

And an arm around a dwarven lass.

 

With a beard so thick make an old dwarf cry,

 

“Oh Blackgem!” the lasses sigh.

   

Inside a rocky cavern deep,

 

An orc stood guard over dank dung heap.

 

Can’t keep a dwarf from relief so cheap,

 

And so nasty orc got put to sleep!

   

With a cut and a hew, and a crush and smash,

 

And an arm around a dwarven lass.

 

With a beard so thick make an old dwarf cry,

 

“Oh Blackgem!” the lasses sigh.

   

In the wet Morass there dwelt a troll,

 

Who wore a man’s skin like a stole.

 

But when poor troll tried to collect his toll,

 

Dwarf ‘d only pay with smoldering coal!

   

With a cut and a hew, and a crush and smash,

 

And an arm around a dwarven lass.

 

With a beard so thick make an old dwarf cry,

 

“Oh Blackgem!” the lasses sigh.

   

A great giant in the mountains high,

 

Bellowed, shouted, a dwarf he’d not abide.

 

But the dwarven axe was way too spry,

 

Left the giant only one good thigh!

   

With a cut and a hew, and a crush and smash,

 

And an arm around a dwarven lass.

 

With a beard so thick make an old dwarf cry,

 

“Oh Blackgem!” the lasses sigh.

   

Drinking ale inside a tavern dark,

 

Dwarven maiden singing like a lark

 

Now in a room while naked stark,

 

Blackgem he ne’er misses the mark!

   

With a cut and a hew, and a crush and smash,

 

And an arm around a dwarven lass.

 

With a beard so thick make an old dwarf cry,

 

“Oh Blackgem!” the lasses sigh.

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

Goblins in the Granary

   

When goblins grow bored, and the ale runs low,

 

They look around, got no place to go.

 

The bread is stale, sunrise comes soon,

 

What shall their lil’ wives bake come noon?

   

And so there’s goblins in the granary.

 

Its so much fun for you and me,

 

To watch them dance so merrily,

 

And spin about the granary!

   

A call goes out, carried far and wide,

 

Brave souls arrive from every side.

 

Sharp steel in hand, and iron of eye,

 

Soon they send dancing goblins to die.

   

And so there’s goblins in the granary.

 

Its so much fun for you and me,

 

To watch them dance so merrily,

 

And spin about the granary!

   

As night falls dark, in the End men go,

 

With swords all clean, and polished bow.

 

Drink and laugh, goblin spoils in hand,

 

While goblins have naught to eat but sand.

   

And still there’s goblins in the granary.

 

Its so much fun for you and me,

 

To watch them dance in victory,

 

And spin about the granary!

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

Tears of a Maiden

   

There is a tale of sorrow found,

 

Sung here in Mistlocke, all around.

 

A maiden bid her husband love,

 

Farewell to fight foes undreamed of.

   

Men returned but none could say,

 

What came of maiden’s love that day.

 

She cried, she mourned, life it goes on,

 

Clothed in black, now a darkened swan.

   

Mourning dark death, a loss so dear,

 

She stands high up above the Tear

 

As she flung herself in the air,

 

Her tears they filled the River Tear.

   

Yet fate takes hold, false hope it grows,

 

Young man spied swan in darkened clothes.

 

Wooing, pleading, her heart he won,

 

Her love grew, she could no more shun.

   

But one sad day stood at her door,

 

Brave husband back, shouting a roar.

 

“My swan I hear another buck,

 

You’ve let into my bed to fuck!”

   

Mourning dark death, a loss so dear,

 

She stands high up above the Tear

 

As she flung herself in the air,

 

Her tears they filled the River Tear.

   

Steel sang out as the two men fought,

 

The maiden watched quite overwrought.

 

Her husband, strong from fighting long,

 

Slew the young man, ended his song.

   

He cut his head, tossed to the Mists.

 

Then turned to maiden with clenched fists,

 

Casting her out, while hate consumed.

 

Upon the bridge, leaped to her doom.

   

Mourning dark death, a loss so dear,

 

She stands high up above the Tear

 

As she flung herself in the air,

 

Her tears they filled the River Tear.

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

The Bog Wyrm

   

Harken to this song, a harrowing tale,

 

Please for your sake don’t forget to exhale.

 

‘Tis ‘bout the hunt of the nasty Bog Wyrm,

 

The truth of this tale I can safely confirm.

   

This minstrel met it once near the Morass,

 

It leapt out and struck her right in the ass.

 

Poison mixed with blood from the wound so deep,

 

And felled the minstrel, left her in a heap.

   

Through luck she lived, the Bog Wyrm it was chased.

 

Up into the air, to the Morass it raced.

 

So the men of Aberdenn bravely swore,

 

They’d slay this Wyrm, a threat it’d be no more.

   

Tell the Bog Wyrm it should scramble and hide,

 

For the Aberdenn men search far and wide.

 

It cannot hope to escape our deafening roar,

 

We’ve come for your blood to even the score.

   

Scent of death in the air, victims pile high,

 

The Clan hunts the Morass, eyes to the sky.

 

In the dank and wet the danger abounds,

 

Aberdenn hunts on Wyrm’s hunting grounds.

   

For days and weeks and months do they hunt on,

 

Facing perils most deadly, dusk ‘til dawn.

 

Mouths that gibber and strong vines that ensnare,

 

All will kill the strongest, so best beware.

   

But the foul Bog Wyrm was the worst of these,

 

Many a brave young soul was known to freeze,

 

When confronted by its most wicked glare,

 

To survive such a day would be most rare.

   

Tell the Bog Wyrm it should scramble and hide,

 

For the Aberdenn men search far and wide.

 

It cannot hope to escape our deafening roar,

 

We’ve come for your blood to even the score.

   

But for even a Bog Wyrm luck runs out,

 

When faced with Clan Aberdenn, with hearts stout.

 

Through its lizard thralls they cut, blood it seeped.

 

Hissing screams rang out as Aberdenn reaped.

   

‘Til all laid slain, the Morass it ran red,

 

Quiet was the only sound, silence of dread.

 

For the Bog Wyrm had not yet shown to fight,

 

Despite its servants’ deaths, did it take flight?

   

But no, loud crashing now the Clansmen heard,

 

It was the great Wyrm’s anger they had stirred.

 

With a last crash, the trees before them fell,

 

Out jumped the Wyrm as if spawned from the Hells.

   

Tell the Bog Wyrm it should scramble and hide,

 

For the Aberdenn men search far and wide.

 

It cannot hope to escape our deafening roar,

 

We’ve come for your blood to even the score.

   

Falling on the men, its deadly tail thrashed,

 

And in their faces its daunting teeth gnashed.

 

But the brave Clansmen stood to the assault,

 

Bringing the Wyrm’s terrible charge to halt.

   

Bright spears and blades sliced at its long, scaled throat,

 

Twas not long ‘fore its final verse was wrote.

 

At long last this nasty Wyrm’s blood was spilled,

 

The Aberdenn Clansmen had seen it killed.

   

Now the Wyrm’s head is a trophy hung up high,

 

This tale is Aberdenn’s triumphant cry.

 

No more this evil Wyrm will prowl and kill,

 

All due to a few brave men of iron will.

   

Tell the Bog Wyrm it should scramble and hide,

 

For the Aberdenn men search far and wide.

 

It cannot hope to escape our deafening roar,

 

We’ve come for your blood to even the score.

[HaveLuteWillTravel]

Put Tits in the Tower

   

The Mist hangs low over sodden ground,

 

And so fear grows, take a look around.

 

You can cast a vote for paladin Jim,

 

Or make your mark at Coinlord’s whim.

   

They’ll rage and shout as times done before,

 

They’ll spend and buy and still ask for more

 

But would that keep H’bala well at bay?

 

Will that push back your dying day?

   

So why not…

 

Put tits in the Tower!

 

There’s no need to cower.

 

Or pull a face so dour,

 

When my tits are in the Tower!

   

I warred against H’bala’s armies foul,

 

With shield on arm, I heard Risers growl.

 

And so I realized that hope had fled,

 

The Old Colony’s stone ran with red.

   

We live our lives in labor and toil,

 

Doom surrounds, even the brave recoil.

 

But we still control how we end this tale,

 

Let’s sing and dance and have another ale!

   

So I say…

 

Put tits in the Tower!

 

There’s no need to cower.

 

Or pull a face so dour,

 

When my tits are in the Tower!