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An old scroll from long ago

Tags: #T.S.C. 
  • Member
    March 3, 2020

    Kodlak and Tilma had retired for the night, Farkas and vilkas are in the Undercroft drinking and the Huntress, Aela is in bed sleeping. All the whelps are settled and the hall is quiet. That was when i decided to go rummaging through an old chest in the corner of the hall. It just so happens that I found this scroll and the more I read it, the more I laughed so I thought I'd share it with you all.

     

    All I can remember was that it was of an event when Tamriel Vault was on Ning. I have had a search for it in The Story Corner but I couldn't find it in TSC so I thought I'd share it here as we have numerous new members......

     

    Once in the Bannered Mare many moons ago two friends sat at a table and during a few meads they talked and plotted...

    This was the result....

     

     

  • Member
    March 3, 2020

    Sotek and I were chatting about his upcoming Tale of Tales project in which a story is collaboratively written. I asked if there could be a poetry version of that concept and he graciously gave me the go ahead, despite my track record of inappropriate behaviour and general immaturity. So the idea here is that a few of our more poetically minded folks are going to collaborate to see what sweet music we can make together. Not only that, we will also link ourselves with Sotek's project by being the background noise of the Tale of Tales' first chapter which is set in a public house.


    The theme, then, of our first collaboration will be Tavern Ballads, hopefully of a better sort than Ragnar the I hate that song Red. With any luck we can keep this mature and appropriate (note to self) and give the proper writers of TT a good bit of background music.


    My sincerest hope is that if this works we will go on to follow the entire story, composing songs about the deeds of our heroic friends.


    So what I need from you is a list of all those who may be interested in taking part in this thing. I need a minimum of one more, for a duet, and a maximum of, what, four? Any more could be unwieldy. However, if more than four step up then we can have two teams of bards and double the amount of inappropriate lyrics.
    So sign up below if you want to join me on this - whatever the hell this is :)


    Edit: I forgot to mention a couple of rules. Sorry, but we do need at least a bit of structure. I thought we would follow Sotek's formula and make it turn-based, with each "bard" getting one verse in the poem. That bard cannot write another verse until all bards have had their turn. Scratch that or it will take forever at this rate. Just jump in and contribute whenever you get creative.


    This can be done in the comments and I will come back regularly to update this page with the poem as it progresses. That way people who are not directly involved but would like to show their peripheral support, or simply make fun, can do so without interrupting the flow.


    Bards Writers
    The Ordinator Phil
    The Gloomy Skald Accursed Gloom
    The Lyricist from the Larsius Lissette
    Bloodmoon Howl Sotek
    Inebriated Shenanigans Idesto
    Sheogorath’s Scamp Mirric the Thalmor Overlord
    Small but Beautiful Gnewna
    The Dancing Dino Tae-Rai
    Charlie Wolf Tamer Ctfgaming
    The Absent Artist No One Is Here
    The Hooded Whistler Axius Revan
    The Prancing Pony Chris Diokno
    The Bawdy Barkeep Brewmaster
    Traven's Singing Raven Hannibal Venen

     

     

    V1 (by The Ordinator)


    In Narsis I met an elegant lass, a dancer with poise and grace.
    Said I to her, let me twirl with you but be gentle with the pace.
    I cannot match your speed of thought or the slimness of your waist,
    Nor can I be as thoughtful as you or quite measure up to your taste.
    I cannot match your strength nor beauty but give me this chance in case,
    You find I can dance with the best of them and we'll lead them on a chase.
    Said she to I:


    V2 (by The Gloomy Skald)


    I am but the entertainer,
    Please descend from the stage.
    (It seems that not a man can tame her
    Or conceal my rage!)
    The dancer saw the pain in my eyes and gave up her position
    We danced a dance so lively, it livened my disposition.
    The next hour...


    V3 (by The Ordinator)


    Hand in hand the dancers waltzed, and whirled around the floor,
    Demonstrating exotic steps, like the Twist of Alinor.
    Revelling in their gaiety, they performed the Jig of Sancre Tor,
    To the delight of onlookers all, who couldn't help adore,
    The dancers two who's friendship shone like Alessia and Mor.
    A bystander said to someone else, moved to the core,
    "Such beauty should ascend to heaven, escape this bloody war."
    The dancers took this these words to heart, pranced out the door,
    Under the light of the firmament, beneath The Lover of yore.
    Breast to breast and heart to heart, their feet a little sore,
    They joined the stars in the night above where they dance forevermore.
    And then...


    V4 (by The Lyricist from the Larsius)


    They danced, until in stormed a mighty boar
    Who then filled the scene with blood and gore
    Spilled intestines, brains, and bony bits galore
    By Talos! The clean up for the maid was a mighty chore
    But she got through it, her broom sweeping the floor
    By listening to her lover recite some lore
    He recited the lore about the bear and the whore
    A woman who loved a bear-man herbivore
    Made the maid laugh so hard she pooped her drawer
    And the stench made her lover wretch to the core
    Never more would he recite funny folklore.
    Meanwhile...


    V5 (by Bloodmoon Howl)


    In the corner sat in a trance,
    two Companions watched the lovers dance.

    “You think she pretty?” Said the red headed Nord
    The Argonian, her mate, lazily snored…
    “The plains are better than her dancing feet”.
    “Agreed, first deer is yours! My treat!”

    Leaving the dancers waltzing on the floor,
    The two Companions headed out the door,
    their own emotions running to the fore.

    She knew a longing, was it sexual need?
    No, it was the calling of the plains; the beast to be freed.
    A red hot burning in her innermost core,
    a want and longing for Hircine’s totem, of fang and claw…


    V6 (by The Ordinator)


    Into this scene of carnage there marched The Temple Guard,
    Clad in chitin armour, their spears just as hard.
    The captain strode forward then to play his lawful card,
    "Mer, stop the music", he cried, "and arrest that awful bard!"
    "You are to be detained, you swit, for your crimes against The Three",
    "For daring to compose so lude a ditty which doesn't mention ALMSIVI."
    "So tell me, are you just simple, fetcher? What is wrong with thee?"
    "Has Sheogorath touched you, n'wah, are you slightly mad?"
    "For never in all my many years have I heard poetry quite so bad."


    V7 (By Bloodmoon Howl)


    Now three hunters enter this tale of woe,
    written in the stars, long, long ago.

    “We’re seeking werewolves,
    Beasts so foul!"
    "Could have sworn I heard them howl”.

    “Get in line we were here first”
    Stated the Temple guard to the accursed.
    Shaking his pouch of gold to the maid so she pour.
    His men dying of thirst, needing drink, wanting more...
    The hunters backed off, in a quick retreat.
    Against the temple, they knew they were beat.
    In a corner they sat as one.
    Knowing full well this tale was far from done.


    V8 (by Inebriated Shenanigans)


    "A fight! A fight!" the drunk Dunmer cried, wildly glaring, red fire in his eyes.
    "C'mere thenn, iff yoo think yur so fit, or show me a Nords sso I know where t'hit!"
    Wildly swinging his arms all around, he managed to knock himself to the ground.
    But back up he came, still trying to be hard, and connected a chair with a large Temple Guard.
    "Ohh, shcuse me good shira, I didint know yoo werr Elf", then stood up and banged his head on a shelf.
    But on his way down he saw our fair Bard, and attempted to reason with her burly Guard
    "'ere - whatcha doin', ya big metal cur! Yehalright sshe cant sing but I ssorta like her!
    "Getcha hands off'er or else I'll gett mad, an' iffen I don't yull really be glad!"
    The big temple guard just went "bonk" on his head, and our poor drunken Dunmer, he fell down instead.
    But touched by his love our dear Bard found some guts, and raising her leg kicked the Guard in the nuts!
    As she fled for her life with the speed of the wind, she looked back at her hero, crying "We'll meet again!"


    V9 (by Sheogorath's Scamp)


    A Daedra by the name Sheo Appeared

    In a manner that was somewhat weird

    The Daedra offered them Fishticks and cheese

    But the thought of the Cheese made them all wheeze

    The daedra was confused so he booped everyone on the nose

    "I CURSE YE WITH MADNESS!"

    Yelled the daedra with a fork.

    "YE WONT TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A NORD AND A TROUT!

    The daedra vanished along with everones minds

    And in a manner not very Kind

    Then a Thalmor Appeared

    And broke all of there spears...

     

    V10 (By Inebriated Shenanigans)

     

    I used to work in Windhelm, at the General Store!
    I used to work in Windhelm, I don't work any more!
    A woman came into the store one day, asking for some lockpicks!
    Some lockpicks from the store!?
    Some lockpicks she wanted, some lock-picking she got!
    I don't work anymore!


    V11 (by Inebriated Shenanigans)


    I used to work in Windhelm, at the General Store!
    I used to work in Windhelm, I don't work any more!
    A woman came into the store one day, asking for some nails!
    Some nails from the store!?
    Some nails she wanted, a hammering she got!
    I don't work anymore!
    As before feel free to delete if too rude.
    I should probably stop now anyway...


    V12 (by The Ordinator)


    A paladin came riding in,
    Atop an armoured steed,
    A holy knight of Auriel,
    Devoted to His creed.
    Upon his arm a golden shield, shimmering with Aetherial glow,
    And on his back was slung a mighty ornate bow.
    Both artefacts were heaven sent, of ancient elven design,
    Wielded with righteous purpose, they were blessed and divine.


    Above him soared an eagle,
    Altmer's sacred bird,
    Majestic, noble, regal,
    Proof that Auriel hard heard,
    The Tower people's prayer,
    That He send the holy word.


    Dressed in shining heavy armour, forged by maternal love,
    From his horse the knight alighted, graceful as a dove.
    Charging forward he drew his flashing sword,
    Crashing like a holy wind into the daedric horde.


    On his lips a battlecry,
    "Auriel will take me if I die,"
    "But what of you, Oblivion get?
    "Eternal damnation await you yet!"
    One by one the hellspawn died,
    Felled by his arrows or his radiant scythe.


    Then from the Crystal Tower the watching people cried,
    A sound full of horror, dismayed, terrified.
    For on the field of battle, entered Molag Bal's pet,
    The twisted, foul archedemon, the Demiprince Bet.


    For the first time that day, the knight felt the pang of fear,
    (As the ranks of demons parted and the fiend drew near)
    Not for himself but for his people's lives.
    "Auriel above, help me defend my friends,"
    "For now I am going forth to face whatever end."


    Then form the battlements there rose Rynandor's clarion call,
    As if divine inspiration had touched one and all.
    "If you fight this mer before you then perish you must,"
    "He is the anointed keeper of the Eight's sacred trust."
    "A knight-paladin of Auriel, he'll send you back to hell,"
    "Woe to you demon, you face Aelberon of Dusk!"


    View 13 (By The Gloomy Skald)


    The two mighty warriors fought for each of their sides,

    Rain falling on them and the battlefield wide.

    Representing their Lords, the duel it raged on,

    Till at last the victor was declared Äelberon!

    "Hooray, Huzzah!" Rynador cried,

    For he had seen that the Beast had died.

    Alas, our hero's victory lasted not long,

    As the thought that one Mer could fight them was wrong.

    Crystal-Like-Law sank deep 'neath the earth,

    Through a hole that was wide in both length and it's girth.

    Yet still does our hero Äelberon stand,

    And he dropped his gold Elven sword out of his hand.

    He'd done it, and still failed; had he not?

    Others brushed the thought off; it mattered not. (Plus they were jealous of the stones that he's got!)


    V14 (by Inebriated Shenanigans)


    There was a young elf from Morthal
    Who went to a fancy dress ball
    He decided to risk it and go as a biscuit
    But a dog ate him up in the hall


    V15 (by Small but Beautiful)


    There once was an old Dusken Priest
    Who took on the blood of the Beast
    He smoked all he could
    And prayed 'twas for good
    He was stubborn, to say but the least.


    V16 (by Inebriated Shenanigans)


    Who this strange silver Mer, carrying sword and shield?
    Though big and strong he is, yes, none are mighty as me!
    I will crush him, I will kill, for me he is no threat!
    I never lose, I only kill: for I am the mighty B....
    Oh, bugger...


    V17 (By Bloodmoon Howl)


    The walls did shake and the roof top quake,
    Then splinters and is torn off high.
    Everyone below trembles when above them, they see sky.

    Peering down, above them, Daedra lords one and six.
    Looking at the puny races from on high,
    their minds full of tricks..

    Hircine shouts, “The Nord girl,
    I smell the beast from here.
    The Argonian with her,
    His howl you all will fear”.

    Sheogorath points… “That drunken lad,
    Idesto’s soul is mine!
    We’ll eat cheese and crackers,
    And drink all the wine”.

    Meridia with a soft sweet tone,
    calls down to Aelberon.
    “You, oh so noble a knight.
    Will my battle pledge you fight?”

    Aur-iel looked down below
    “He’s mine, beware of my light”.

    Hermaeus Mora joined in the ruckus.
    Three tentacles pointed to Phil.
    “I simply love his poems, his lyrics are divine,
    he’ll stand against Mirrak,
    the bastard won’t stand this time”.

    Molag Bal bellows with rage,
    shouting to all who would listen.
    “Pledge to me!! Lions not sheep!!
    As the dead you shall be risen”

    Hulda with a mop and armed with her broom,
    points to the Daera Lords,
    And shouts her words of doom.

    "Damn you all for coming here!!"
    "Acting like we are mastered!!"
    "Oh by the Nine my roof!!"
    "It will have to be re-plastered".


    V18 (by The Dancing Dino)


    There once was a dragon

    Who drowned in a flagon

    He's down on his luck

    And we couldn't give a f***

    Shit, now I've lost my wagon


    V19 (By Bloodmoon Howl)


    The door swung open to a warrior,
    Standing swelled with pride.
    Kodlak dressed in Wolf armor
    Tilma by his side.
    I’m looking for two wee pups,
    One is like my daughter.
    The Argonian, I’ll flay his hide.
    Hircine knows I aught ‘a.
    Behind him stood the Argonian,
    A deer strewn over his shoulder.
    The Nord girl walked in front of him.
    She was feeling somewhat bolder.
    “Don’t have a go at him” She said.
    “And where’s those moron’s two?”
    “Here Tilma we caught some rabbit’s”
    “Perfect for a stew”


    V23 (by The Gloomy Skald)

     

    And through all this madness danced the Dancer Lass,

    The one I had wooed and had the elegant ass.

    At last came the waiter with our dinner of bass,

    And when he put the dish down we both yelled "At last!"

    Then all of the patrons looked at us en masse.


    "Hello" said I in an awkward tone

    And soon the others just continued to drone.

    On and on, about youngsters and crones,

    Our dinner was ruined by a Dremora's clone,

    Who decided our table was a good place to loan

    A sword in the chest to those not alone.

     

    V24 (by Sheogorath's Scamp)

     

    Oh uncle Sheo was in his Palace

    Eating some cheese and some Cabbage

    Then out or bordom he grabbed Haskils Plump Ass

    Oh How bored sheo was and it was no fun

    He just wants to spread madness to everyone

    "Oh i have an Idea!

    The madgod yelled

    "I will head to skyrim and have some fun!"

    Then grabbed his fork and his staff

    And headed off with a horse made out of his Wrath.

    To be continued...


    V25 (Inebriated Shenanigans)


    The drunken elf his senses regained and found he was prone on the floor.
    Ran his hand through his hair, and found many lumps: 1, 2 ,3 - ouch! - and 4.
    Unfolding his limbs he planted his feet, and pulled himself upright again.
    He stood proud and tall! Or at least so he thought, for he swayed like a reed in the wind.
    “Whatsh goin’ onn? Gimme a drink! And whyre yuall shtaring at me?!
    “Whered me girl go: the one who cant shing? Oh yeah: I done shet her free!
    “Thish callsh for a drink: wholl buy one for me?” Sudden silence through all Tamriel.
    Then the door was thrown open, and a man there revealed, who said to the elf: “I will!”
    The drinks now flowed free for the strange man and he, along with much cabbage and cheese
    Then “Come meet my friends!” the mad stranger cried, as the Inn filled with rabbits and bees.
    There were Werecats called Fred who claimed to be dead, and a staff ran away with a fork.
    The men all grew horns, the chairs became thorns and a pickaxe said “Why can’t I talk?”
    The tables were dancing, their long legs entrancing, and the party descended to farce
    Old Sheo with a shout to the elf did reach out, who cried: “Didjyu jush grab my ass?!”


    V26 (by Sheogorath's Scamp)


    Old Sheo laughed!

    Oh how he laughed!

    He Laughed and Laughed until his eyes fell out!

    "Oh dear mortal i just want to have fun!"

    "Your now my champion your madness is unmatched!"

    Then out of nowhere he summoned a staff with faces on it and only one seemed to laugh

    "Oh this is the Wabbajack!"

    "My most famous artifact!"

    "Take it and make everyone mad!"

    "Be sure to have fun with itlad or you will never truly be mad!

    Then with his eyes in his hands he left to the Summerset Isles.

    Home of the Thalmor who were all Asses!


    V27 (by Charlie Wolf-Tamer)


    The howls of wolves fills me with dread

    And six bodies are lying on the floor dead

    And when I hear the bloodmoon howl

    I go out and grab my sword and cowl

    And when I see the beasts that are black as midnight

    I pull out my sword and prepare for a big fight.


    V28 (by The Absent Artist)


    Then a Dunmer swinging sujamma danced into the guard house
    A bed he danced into and he asked it about a mouse
    A knight all in shining armour kicked down the door a smoking pipe of moon sugar he held
    By the power of the Holy Tomato he shouted you will all be purged
    The guards watching agape arrested them both


    V29 (by The Lyricist from the Larsius)


    Oh, I'd sing a song of sujamma
    But I always gets so hungovah
    I try as I may
    to keep it at bay
    But By Azura it sure calls for ya!


    V30 (by Bloodmoon Howl)


    She rode her mount from the Bannered Mare.
    A horse trotting down the street.
    Sotek ran behind her,
    Dashing on his clawed feet.

    “Aela get your arse over here”
    He yelled loudly with a shout.
    “It’s not an ass, it’s a horse” she said.
    And blocked what he said out…


    V31 (by The Lyricist from the Larsius)


    I like my argonian lass,
    with a sexy, well-defined ass
    When she lifts ups her tail
    I hold up my bottle of ale
    And ask her to get naughty and crass!

     

    V32 (by Sheogorath's Scamp)

     

    Oh Mighty Sheggorath!
    Khajiit has a wish!
    This one wants some Skooma!
    Nothing Other Then That!
    Khajiit does not want your Fork!
    Or the Gambopuddy!
    Or Even your precious artifact
    The Wabbajack!
    This one just wants Skooma in his Belly!

     

    V33 (by Charlie Wolf-Tamer)

     

    I can't forget what happened on that bloody day

    We were camped out in the mountains when we saw bards fighting and we hoped into the fray

    It's was a mistake I did not want to make but I can not change the past

    And now I stand before the executioner and when he chopped off my head I let out a ghast.

     

    V34 The Hodded Whistler

     

    A Nord barge in with a fistful of coin.
    He demanded the waitress for some beef tenderloin.
    When a drunk spilled his mead on the man's shiny armor.
    He fled from the inn crying out for his father.

     

    V35 (by Bloodmoon Howl)

     

    And so the sun doth setting, in Skyrim all around.
    The plains are naught but quiet, not a sight or sound.
    The Nord lass and her mate are resting, beneath a slab of rock
    She lays there wishing, she had a…. door and lock.
    The Bannered Mare is still buzzing, Sheogorath’s still about.
    Drinking cheese and eating wine, with crackers I have no doubt.
    The Lyrics are being sung… by the fire burning bright.
    Pull up a chair, take a pew, join in the endless night.

     

    There’s bread and cheese and a flagon of mead,
    For those who would sing song.
    Rotten tomatoes and stinking veg,
    For those who sing it wrong.
    Take a maid by the hand and dance across the floor.
    Give her 10 gold on the sly, she’ll give you a whole lot more.
    Waltz around my merry men, women and werewolves too,
    The night is alive and the moons are high, both…. one and two.
    There comes a time when the song is sung,
    There’s just no more to sing.
    That time isn’t now so come along,
    And join this awful ding.


    V36 (by Sheogorath's Scamp)

     

    We drink to our youth for the days come and gone.
    For the Madness has only truely begun
    We will rampage like madmen from the Shivering Isles.
    With our skooma and Fishy sticks we will prevail


    All hail to Sheo! You are the Madgod!
    In your great honor we drink and we sing.
    Were the children of Madness and we fight all our lives.
    And when the Greymarch Beckons Every one of us dies!
    But the Madness is true and we'll see it prevail.
    Of the scourge that has sullied our Cabbage and Cheese!


    All hail to Sheo! You are the Madgod!
    In your great honor we drink and we sing!
    Were the children of Madness and we fight all our lives.
    And when the Greymarch Beckons every one of us dies!


    V37 (by Sheogorath's Scamp)

     

    Oh in the Blessed Isles there was a mer in black
    He was Clearly a Thalmor Overlord who always watched his underlings backs
    Then came a man by the name of Sheo with his Signature Fork
    The Madgod then Forked him and did a little dance
    Uncle Sheo grabbed a Staff of the Everscamp
    He gave it a Lady with a Beautiful plush Rump
    Four Smelly Scamps appeared and made the Lady Barf
    And Never again would she trust a man giving away free stuff...

     

    V38 The Hodded Whistler

     

    When the inn got merrier, a hooded man came in.
    "Drinks on me," he said. "It's time to sin!"
    They all laugh and they drank until the last drop.
    Then someone had gone so drunk, he fell down in a flop.

     

    The patrons didn't mind, so they threw him outside.
    And Ol' Sheo laughed until he hurt his backside.
    "Dammit, Sanguine. I loved that guy."
    "Why can't you just come in wearing a suit and bowtie?"

     


    V39 (by Dancing Dino)

     

    Inside the inn, things got loud,

    And what of all things came in the crowd,

    Oh dear, it's a cow!

    Why, oh why, how, oh how?

    And Sheo laughed loud, "Damn, my mother makes me proud!"

     

    V40 (by The Absent Artist)

     

    What shall we do with a hormonal werewolf
    What shall we do with a hormonal werewolf
    What shall we do with a hormonal werewolf
    Early in the morning
    Lock her in the Undercroft till she's calm
    Put in the Undercroft and let her destroy it
    What shall we do with a hormonal werewolf
    Put her in a store room till she covers herself in flour
    Put her is Fakas room till she attacks the bed it and drinks all his mead
    Put her in the bathing room until she brakes the plumbing
    Put her in the Harbingers room till she relieves herself
    Put her in Aelas room tills she destroys it
    Put her in a store room till she eats everything and drinks all the mead
    Put her in Soteks room to make a bed

     

    V41 The Hodded Whistler


    The Artist tried to sing a song about a wolf.
    Instead it made him turn into a goof.
    Sotek was enraged so he turned into a werewolf.
    Now the whole inn was shaking too the roof.
    I can't help it but rhyme.
    Hopefully it's not a crime.


    V42 (by The Dancing Dino)


    Deep upon the marsh's touch, deep beneath the roots,

    A child was born under the moon's grace, under an owl's hoot

    His mother called to the sky, praising her Hist, singing into the night

    His father, proud as all, raising his son above his head with all his might,

    And all through the night, they sang, all the way into the day

    And soon he will become a hero to his people... Tae-Rai


    V43 (by Bloodmoon Howl)


    A tale of caution.
    Three Thalmor came along the path,
    Arresting who they may.
    Behind them in the shadows,
    two werewolves, prowled.
    They were looking for some prey.


    A softly growl alerted her,
    The Thalmor girl in charge.
    She cast a fireball,
    Not a small one mind, it was rather large.


    It flew across the tundra,
    And slammed into a Werewolf’s side.
    The other beast ran towards her,
    It’s maw opened wide.


    Paws and claws clashed with swords
    Blood spilt on either side.
    Three thalmor ran off crying
    While the beasts licked their wounded pride.


    Remember all you readers.
    Not every fight you win.
    Sometimes it’s best to walk away,
    Before the fight doth begin.


    V44 (by The Prancing Pony)


    There once was Khajiit named Ma´Rash
    Whose balls were made of fine brass.
    One night he was drunk, in a storm so frightening
    When he fell down dead, for his balls were struck by lightning.


    V45 (by The Bawdy Barkeep)


    There once were two Bosmer brothers
    Who went out to hunt late one night
    Upon spying a deer one shot at its rear
    and found it belonged to his brother!


    V46 (by The Dancing Dino)


    Two brother, Bosmeri and stout

    Got black-out drunk, and decided to head out!

    Out in the plains, a deer rose it's head, sniffing the air,

    And one brother grinned wide, for his dinner was near!

    An arrow notched, he let it fly fast...

    And it landed true... Though in his brother's ass!


    V47 (by The Prancing Pony)


    Two brothers fought over the same lass
    They both wanted to sheath their blades into her ass
    They decided to take turns, to see whose her favor would land.
    When they got her clothes off, they discovered she was a man.


    V48 (by The Hooded Whistler)


    The patrons find this song disturbing.
    While others find this interesting.
    An awkward silence then filled the mead hall.
    Before a Nord broke it up with his maul.


    V49 (by The Prancing Pony)


    There once were three Argonian siblings.
    They each wanted a piece of their father´s property.
    Each in turn did their billing.
    One ended up with two goats
    Another a large land for crops
    The last ended up with a rock


    V50 (by The Ordinator)


    As I drifted off on one clear night,
    My shade floating up to the stars so bright,
    I heard a sound as soft as light,
    Coming from mist-the shrouded height,
    My slowing heart felt so tight,
    But my spirit drifted up like a feathered kite.


    As my lifeblood ebbed on the ground below,
    Melting into watery snow,
    I saw above me a golden glow,
    Streaming down in a shimmering flow,
    Scintillating like an astral rainbow,
    Towards it my spirit the wind did blow.


    At the end of this supernal floor,
    Was a crack in the heavens, an open door,
    At the threshold was a vision of four,
    Ada who in life I would adore,
    But my body beneath shuddered once more,
    Then was still I was dead for sure.


    The angels parted to reveal a form,
    A womanly figure, soft and warm,
    My spirit halted alone, forlorn,
    Between staying or going I was torn,
    But towards it my soul was bourn,
    No time to grieve or my life to mourn.


    The woman was Mara goddess of love,
    Who shone as pure as the stars above,
    She extended a hand, a healers glove,
    Towards it I flew from a gentle shove,
    As if behind me pushing was a tender dove.


    Onto the ethereal bridge I landed,
    My soul felt sad, lost and stranded,
    But her soothing touch upon me branded,
    The quiet peace which she demanded,
    And hand in hand my soul expanded,
    As she gauged my worth, her judgement candid.


    Together we entered the open gate,
    But at the edge I had to wait,
    To take one last glimpse at life and fate,
    And ponder why the gods did create,
    A place so full of death and hate.


    V51 (by Traven's Singing Raven)


    A bear there was, a bear, a bear!
    all black and brown, and covered with hair.
    Oh, sweet she was, and pure and fair!The maid with honey in her hair!
    And he smelled the scent on the summer air.

     

    The bear! The bear!
    All black and brown and covered with hair!
    He smelled the scent on the summer air!
    He sniffed and roared and smelled it there!
    Honey on the summer air!
    Oh, I'm a maid, and I'm pure and fair!
    I'll never dance with a hairy bear!

     

    The bear, the bear!
    He lifted her high into the air!
    The bear! The bear!
    I called for a knight, but you're a bear!
    A bear, a bear!

     

    All black and brown and covered with hair
    She kicked and wailed, the maid so fair,
    But he licked the honey from her hair.
    Then she sighed and squealed and kicked the air!


    My bear! She sang. My bear so fair!
    And off they went, from here to there,
    The bear, the bear, and the maiden fair.


    V52 (by The Prancing Pony)


    Ulfric, like many lords, had many a harlot
    Sadly, none of them were named Charlotte.
    They all went away satisfied with how he was thick
    Even if the Bear of Markarth, had a tiny dick
    Or prick, take your pick.


    V53 (by The Prancing Pony)


    In old Morrowind, three Nords could be found nude.
    The nearby townsfolk thought, of them, this was quite rude.
    All claimed they were beset by foul spells
    Except for one on Solstheim, for he was nude because he felt unwell


    V54 Traven's Singing Raven


    A drink I wanted, a drink I got
    I drank until the trees had rot!
    And when I woke, it was well past morning
    for the inn keep gave me only one warning:
    "Get out your coin, you'd better pay up!
    You drank more than even a dozen cups!"
    It was at this moment that I came to know
    That the maid I'd coupled with made off with my dough!
    I quickly stood straight and shot out the door,
    I had to go find that bloody whore!

     

    V55 Traven's Singing Raven


    As she sauntered through the old worn streets
    All the men she passed could see nothing but her teats!
    However, this couldn't be any more incorrect
    For this Mer could still become erect!
    As he felt the illusion wearing off, he ran behind a cart
    He downed the dregs of his potion, oh how it tasted tart!
    Stepping out from his facade, he returned to his walk
    only to find the crowd aghast in shock!
    He quickly looked into the nearest puddle
    and saw that his face was all a muddle!
    "Damn!" he thought. "It was the wrong potion!"
    He turned quickly around to apply his special lotion.
    "Nothing to see, move on with your lives!"
    And with that he left, his face covered in hives!


    V56 by The Ordinator


    By the river was a willow a sparse and barren winter tree.
    Beneath that willow was a figure seeing only things his eyes could see.
    Lost in thought he imagined all the things which he could be.
    Or may become on the next tide, his mind sailing out to sea.


    By the river was a willow, sparse and dead and lacking green.
    Beneath that willow was a figure picturing all that could have been.
    Lost in thought he remembered the things he alone had seen.
    Come and gone and turned to ash, nothing but a dream.


    By the river was a willow, forsaken, forgotten and lonely.
    Beneath that willow was a figure, thinking of "if only."
    Blaming others but not himself, still and silent, stoney.
    Was everything he'd ever done a lie, was he just a phoney?


    By the river was a willow, bows drooping, dreary.
    Beneath that willow was a figure, stooped and burdened, weary.
    Thinking ahead under laden skies, everything to his eyes looked bleary.
    Remembering past summers when everything was cheery.


    By the river was a willow, it's bark an ashen grey.
    Beneath that willow hunched a figure, waiting for the end of day.
    Deep in thought and maudlin, his mind wandering and astray.
    The past was gone, never reclaimed, but memories he would replay.


    By the river was a willow, solitary under cloudy skies.
    Beneath that willow was a figure, silently he cries.
    Indulging in self reflection he felt loathsome and despised.
    Yet when other people saw him they viewed fairness, compromise.


    By the river was a willow, isolated on a earthy shelf.
    Beneath that willow was a figure, an out of place Dark Elf.
    Bitter eyed and tired, he thought of nothing but himself.
    Shoulders drooping his brooding thoughts reflected in his health.


    By the river was a willow, its hanging branches slack.
    The sullen mer was ignorant, just used it to rest his back.
    Around him life and nature seemed to fade to black.
    Of bright days in his future there seemed an utter lack.


    By the river was a willow, silhouetted against the sunset red.
    Beneath the willow was a figure, life hanging by a thread.
    He imagined he would face oblivion without a sense of dread.
    He barely felt anything anymore, for inside he was already dead.


    V57 (by Bloodmoon Howl)


    And so at last the Bard’s song ends.
    And all the drink is drunk.
    For these songs and poems of sheer delight,
    We rest in our beds easy,
    And know we did alright.

    A werewolves prowls the darkness,
    With a She-Wolf in the night.
    We all wish you a friendly cheerio.
    And hope in all sincerity,
    The last to leave…
    turns out the candle light.

    This discussion is now closed.
    Feel free to still comment though.
    I want to thank everyone who took part and all those who have read our works. I think I howl for everyone when I say this has been an absolute blast and I thoroughly enjoyed being a part of it.

    The Tamriel Tales, Writers, Scribblers and Claw Scratchers thank you all.

     

  • Member
    March 3, 2020

    And there we have it. Not all scrolls are lost and forgotten. Now, if some of you members would like to, we can run a similar event for a week or so. give me a howl if you would be interested.

    Sotek, Loyal Hound of Hircine

  • Member
    March 4, 2020
    Doc Sotek Brown and his DeLorean. I feel like Marty McFly! When did we we do this, early 2015 or 16? It's nice to see it again.
  • Member
    March 4, 2020

    It was some years ago. I completely forgot about it. It was only when I was searching through old files that I found it. Was a BIG surprise to see it there. This is definitely something we will have to repeat. Had a great time making it. Thing which really surprised me was the amount of content here. So much talent and word play....

    Too much of a waste to let it slip into oblivion...

  • Member
    March 4, 2020
    Has it been that long? Gods, I think it was around this time that I started being active in the Story Corner. Hah! Now I'm starting to feel like a boomer.