Verse from a Vandal: Ballads of a Living Legend

[ADashofHope]

[A thoroughly ale-stained and completely true accounting of the many heroic feats of Vaskr Farsong.]

Vaskr's Vandals versus the Iron Colossus

In the deeps of the Krak where the torches dim,
 Where stone screams loud and the lights grow ,
 A beast of iron, cold and true,
 Was drawn to earth by an exile in Blue.

Its limbs were blades, its breath was flame—
A lesser man would rue the game.
 But bold was I, with glossy hair,
 And teeth that flash like Pra'raj's glare.

Vaskr bold, stood fierce and fair,
 With gleaming steel and not a care.
 A wink, a grin—my foes all fell,
 And aye, the golem did know me well.

I leapt, I sang, I split its spine,
 (While casting glances down the line).
 And there! A beauty caught my gaze—
 More fierce than steel, more sweet than praise.

"That cheer," I said, "was meant for thee—
 And so, my dear, come drink with me."

[ADashofHope]

The Beetle-King's Bane

Downward I wandered, deep through the gutters,
Steel on my shoulder, song in my mouth.
Moonlight was missing, muck rose like hunger—
There came Kan'zuzu, crowned in the filth.

Shell like a war-drum, legs like a war-cart,
Mandibles wide as a murderer's grin.
I met him laughing, blade-first and fearless—
Split through his helm with the heat of my hymn.

Triumph was mine there, bold as the sunrise,
Glory well-earned, if a bit overdue—
But Gellema grinned, and nudged with Her finger:
A slip in the slime made a jest of my shoe.

[ADashofHope]

Dead drunk among the Undead

Hear now the howl of the fen-born dead,
And the hiss of the scaled, their eyes blood-red.
When the sun sank low and the moon grew wide,
One man stood where armies died.

With axe in hand and a song on his lip,
And a grin drunk deep from the gods' own sip,
He faced a thousand with naught but cheer,
And laughter rang where men knew fear.

The ground was black with rotting throng,
The lizards hissed in serpentine song.
Their blades like rivers, their spears like rain-
Yet none could smear Vaskr's name with stain.

Were three wizards three? A rumor's dream.
'Twas the Gods that murmured in his stream.
A wink from Gellema, a howl to the sky,
And Vaskr's axe sang lullabies.

He cleaved their leader clean in twain,
Danced through their dead like a roaring flame,
Til the mound was piled with broken bone,
And Vaskr roared: "I stand alone!"

So sing of the night when the death-mists rolled,
And one mad fool grew thrice as bold.
When laughter slew what steel could not,'
And Vaskr won all the gods had sought.