The Ballad of the Beardless Wyrm
Posted: Thu Nov 15, 2012 4:49 am
A drinking song for well-watered evenings, from the quill and mind of Chanter Nadra Gulya. To be sung by bards, minstrels and drunken crowds for generations to come! Let it lift spirits and cause pleasure where it may.
There was once a man, named Mando
Called Mando the Beardless by some:
Listen with care as I recount
The tale of what he's become!
Our story begins in the days before
He chose the dragon as guide...
Back in those times when he was barely a man
A full beard his joy and pride!
He cherished it so and treated it well
It was truly the best beard in sight!
It sprang forth, a divine bush
Shining with a coppery light!
But lo! Such a man without care
Is bound to invite ill luck!
And sure enough, as his beard grew great
Our hero caution forgot!
Seeking to become one with his past
He learned how to bellow forth flame!
But he did not reflect enough
On how power would bring him shame!
As he charged one day towards his foe
Lips alight with a heavenly fire
The sudden scent of scorching fur
Bought a quick end to his ire
Thus he saw that his blessing of blood
His fire that battlefields cleared!
Was more of a curse then a blessing
For it also consumed his beard!
Today this proud man's patchy stubble
Lends his face an unhealthy glow
All because he didn't understand
That on a wyrm, bristles can't grow...
(Dedicated to Mando "Babychin" Jarrinson.)
There was once a man, named Mando
Called Mando the Beardless by some:
Listen with care as I recount
The tale of what he's become!
Our story begins in the days before
He chose the dragon as guide...
Back in those times when he was barely a man
A full beard his joy and pride!
He cherished it so and treated it well
It was truly the best beard in sight!
It sprang forth, a divine bush
Shining with a coppery light!
But lo! Such a man without care
Is bound to invite ill luck!
And sure enough, as his beard grew great
Our hero caution forgot!
Seeking to become one with his past
He learned how to bellow forth flame!
But he did not reflect enough
On how power would bring him shame!
As he charged one day towards his foe
Lips alight with a heavenly fire
The sudden scent of scorching fur
Bought a quick end to his ire
Thus he saw that his blessing of blood
His fire that battlefields cleared!
Was more of a curse then a blessing
For it also consumed his beard!
Today this proud man's patchy stubble
Lends his face an unhealthy glow
All because he didn't understand
That on a wyrm, bristles can't grow...
(Dedicated to Mando "Babychin" Jarrinson.)