Monday, March 10, 2003

Mathieu on 17 Dec 2001

Subject: My Xmas wish list...

Dear Santa,

I've been a good dwarf this year, as I'm sure you've noticed, so I won't even mention the age-old ties between your august self and my race. We pot-bellied, bearded, big-nosed, red-faced guys have to stick together, and I'd like to point out I'm your greatest fan.

It has always struck me as eminently sensible to ride BEHIND draft animals rather than on them, and while I don't take to little tykes myself, I'm glad you keep them out of our beards by distributing presents like that.

I understand, with hindsight, why you couldn't grant me some of the things I asked for last year, although I'm sure you could have made an exception for the ThunderHammer(TM) of Goblinoid Megadeath, since it was for a good cause. Ok, ok, I will go so far as to say it might have spoilt the fun in our last battle, and perhaps asking for it was a little greedy, at that stage.

Anyhow, I'm going to be much more reasonable this year. I only want one thing : a key!

Could you please convince (you can be so convincing when you try) my fellow adventurers to get off their arses and put in a couple rounds of action before Xmas, so that we can be in posession of a key by the time we partake of the sacred plum pudding?

That way, we can start fiddling with the dials and start the new year with bright new prospects for being good until next Xmas!

Yours truly,
Ulrik Anvilring
Not really a poem, but...

Mathieu on 27 Jul 2001

Subject: Re: RP1:DM:DM:ULR:DM

Stop that!
My brother'll get you!
Non, non!
Mais enfin!
Je l'f'rais plus!
(pass out)

--- Avi Wolfsthal wrote:
> Your subject line is malformed....
> 20 lashes!

Hooves beat, teeth chatter
Blood and wind roar in my ears
Follow the hero
Sighing seas of grass
With all my senses straining
Random sights and sounds
Once I was cargo, soon I may be a warrior, so what am I now?

Kyna gasps : Chaaaaaarge!
One droning demon gutted!
Round one is over

Kinda wasp : Laaaaarge!
It still lives, and we both miss!
Round two no scorer

Kyna screams : Chaaaaaarge!
Stupid broad's safe, wasp's on me!
Round three I'm dun fer

Avi steels the show
Throws in his too, Penny's worth
Coffee up my nose
Shhhhsh, (wink), hu, hu, hu...
Be wery, wery guiet!
I'm drowning zzzgo...blet!
Avi saved them, Penny found them, and George showed them :

Here they are!

The famous Dwarven Haikus!

Sunday, October 20, 2002

Loegaire wound down, but the core team decided to give this another try, and our new PBEM game, Halls of Green and Gold is a sort of Vingt Ans Après for Loegaire. Ulrik is still in it, but is no longer my main character. He still writes poetry, however, and in particular the poem that gave the game it's name, as well as this site's :

Greenhold, or Halls of Green and Gold

There rose a hill upon my way
and as I walked I could survey
steep-sided walls all green and gold
in dying light of day grown old

There on that hill once ruled Dreamhold
and many songs and tales have told
how evil died beneath the swords
of its proud king and haughty lords

There stood the hill as died the day
but at the gates to my dismay
no challenge of a sentinel
arose to guard the citadel

There now the hill grows green and gold
the halls are dark the hearths are cold
the empty streets are filled with dread
the men had fled the king was dead

There is a hill a dream away
where foolish hopes were led astray
where men laid down a king of old
who dreams of tales no longer told

Ulrik, my character in Loegaire, was a dwarven outcast with a penchant for commiting poetry. He kept it to himself, however, and never revealed any of his literary misdeeds to his companions. I, being more vain and less wise than he, did however. Aside from the battle poem below, he was also responsible for many Haikus during the game.

Unfortunately, I did not keep them.
I wrote this one for a Play By E-Mail AD&D game called Loegaire (my second one, after the one in which Syvwlch was created, De Excidio Britanniae). It tells of a battle between a small dwarven army and a sea of goblinoids which lasted two days... and ended in the annihilation of the dwarven forces. I never gave it a title for some reason...

The wave of ugly drooling bogeymen
breaks on the stalwart ranks of dwarven men

Battle cries, and torn flesh screams
Muddy grass with red blood steams

Hate rises ever higher
Blades falling, never tire

The Bone March tide retires for the day
So many muddied dead strewn 'long the way

Night has fallen, sleep holds little rest
Count the fallen, death holds all our best

And morning comes, sun rising golden-rayed
Over the endless Bone March ranks arrayed

A sea of ugly drooling bogeymen
Breaking the ranks of stalwart dwarven men