Carnasaur
SlanntaClause
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Thank you all for taking part in the competition I had a lot more submissions than I was anticipating - goodluck to everyone on the voting thread. Remember poetry can be subjective so if you don't win don't be too disheartended your offerings will be read and apprechaited by the Old Ones themselves that is reward enough.
Please read all enteries before casting your vote(s) and consider your options.
Please feel free to use the comments thread to offer kind words to all the authors who will be revealed at the end if you have any constructive critisims or feedback I encourage you to give them or if you just want to give a shout out to your favourite work you can do so. Please be mindful though that if all you are offering is critical advice it can sometimes come across more harshly than anticipated so take your time to consider elements you'd like to praise of peoples work if you have a lot of constructive feedback.
The poems have been numbered as some did not offer up titles perhaps this is something you can suggest to those works based on your interpretations.
I don't envy you having to judge these they are all fantastic quality! let the judging commence!...
Please read all enteries before casting your vote(s) and consider your options.
Please feel free to use the comments thread to offer kind words to all the authors who will be revealed at the end if you have any constructive critisims or feedback I encourage you to give them or if you just want to give a shout out to your favourite work you can do so. Please be mindful though that if all you are offering is critical advice it can sometimes come across more harshly than anticipated so take your time to consider elements you'd like to praise of peoples work if you have a lot of constructive feedback.
The poems have been numbered as some did not offer up titles perhaps this is something you can suggest to those works based on your interpretations.
I don't envy you having to judge these they are all fantastic quality! let the judging commence!...
Juggling Balls
There is a Skink called Bob he went into hospital for an op.
Bob was brave even though he was forced to shave,
when he came round and felt all around he knew he was feeling a knob.
Once at home he tested his bone and all is well with Bob,
now Bob is back and being a prat to all that don't like his hat.
By ?
There is a Skink called Bob he went into hospital for an op.
Bob was brave even though he was forced to shave,
when he came round and felt all around he knew he was feeling a knob.
Once at home he tested his bone and all is well with Bob,
now Bob is back and being a prat to all that don't like his hat.
By ?
Some Rhymes With The End Times
Proud Sauri and brave Skinks, behold!
Take up your seats, your skin will pale
The end of the world has been foretold!
How will it be? I’ll tell the tale.
The old style vampire, wreathed in blight
Will leave its coffin near the sea
He will prowl the Lustrian night
But for our Basti, he’s just a flea
Things will darken, when chaos arrives
The daemons come! the Slaan will tell
Skarbrand, Malekith, just one survives
Who knows for whom will toll the bell?
But surely, from that feast of gore
Enemies aim at Lustria’s core.
Then the rats, with pestilential darts
Will spoil our sacred spawning pool
But they cannot shake our strong hearts
Cause the horned rat will prove a fool
They’ll rip the sky, they’ll blast the moon
Lord Kroak will stand, not enough soon
Alas! magic wards are doomed to fail
But the twinned tail will show the way
On ancient vessels, upward we sail
The final vengeance, we’ll have someday
And so we say: Old World, farewell
No one can say it hasn’t been nice
Now, Age of Sigmar is selling well
So for the Old Ones, let’s roll some dice!
Proud Sauri and brave Skinks, behold!
Take up your seats, your skin will pale
The end of the world has been foretold!
How will it be? I’ll tell the tale.
The old style vampire, wreathed in blight
Will leave its coffin near the sea
He will prowl the Lustrian night
But for our Basti, he’s just a flea
Things will darken, when chaos arrives
The daemons come! the Slaan will tell
Skarbrand, Malekith, just one survives
Who knows for whom will toll the bell?
But surely, from that feast of gore
Enemies aim at Lustria’s core.
Then the rats, with pestilential darts
Will spoil our sacred spawning pool
But they cannot shake our strong hearts
Cause the horned rat will prove a fool
They’ll rip the sky, they’ll blast the moon
Lord Kroak will stand, not enough soon
Alas! magic wards are doomed to fail
But the twinned tail will show the way
On ancient vessels, upward we sail
The final vengeance, we’ll have someday
And so we say: Old World, farewell
No one can say it hasn’t been nice
Now, Age of Sigmar is selling well
So for the Old Ones, let’s roll some dice!
(The author wants you to note that it was written with the melody of the "Badnerlied" in mind - so you can read it as a poem or try sing it to that tune)
####################
1:
We come from hidden in Azyr
Upon our enemy
Their leaders will not know we're there
Until their army's blood they see
Chorus:
So run, 'cause we're the Shadowstrike (Shadowstrike!)
Our Masters' hidden poison spike (Masters' spike!)
We'll wipe them out, we'll wipe them out
We'll wipe them out, we're the Shadowstrike
2:
The Skinks the small ones but the fast
They move, a sudden breeze
The hailstorm from their boltspitters
Brings enemies to their knees
Repeat chorus
3:
The riders on their flying beasts
Both Rippers, and Terradons
They roar like thunder from the clouds
Their weapons shining bronze
Repeat chorus
4:
Chameleons are invisible
They'll even hide in your plain sight
They're patient, their bolts are venomous
They show our Masters' might
Repeat chorus
5:
Our priest will point us at the foe
Whatever's there will quickly die
Our attacks will hit them from all sides
The Mortal Realms to purify
Repeat chorus
6:
We fight for Order and the Slann
The Chaos to defeat
The Stardrake is on our side
Our enemies will bleed
Repeat chorus
####################
1:
We come from hidden in Azyr
Upon our enemy
Their leaders will not know we're there
Until their army's blood they see
Chorus:
So run, 'cause we're the Shadowstrike (Shadowstrike!)
Our Masters' hidden poison spike (Masters' spike!)
We'll wipe them out, we'll wipe them out
We'll wipe them out, we're the Shadowstrike
2:
The Skinks the small ones but the fast
They move, a sudden breeze
The hailstorm from their boltspitters
Brings enemies to their knees
Repeat chorus
3:
The riders on their flying beasts
Both Rippers, and Terradons
They roar like thunder from the clouds
Their weapons shining bronze
Repeat chorus
4:
Chameleons are invisible
They'll even hide in your plain sight
They're patient, their bolts are venomous
They show our Masters' might
Repeat chorus
5:
Our priest will point us at the foe
Whatever's there will quickly die
Our attacks will hit them from all sides
The Mortal Realms to purify
Repeat chorus
6:
We fight for Order and the Slann
The Chaos to defeat
The Stardrake is on our side
Our enemies will bleed
Repeat chorus
It was always miserable, cold and damp,
Our city reduced to a concentration camp.
Our mighty knights high in their saddle,
Rode out to meet the battle,
To keep the hordes from our city wall,
But over time, every knight would fall.
Even Sir Dagr, our mightiest, the great,
Could not escape a terrifying fate.
He rode out to battle and was met with defeat,
I cry when I think of their chants, "Meat! Meat! MEAT!"
Our city fell and our walls crumbled.
Our strongest men all were humbled.
We pray to Sigmar day and night,
Hoping for him to give us the might,
To match the savagery of these monstrosities,
To make them pay for their atrocities.
Kept like livestock to keep us fresh,
So that they may eat our flesh.
They’d pick us clean, right to the bone,
Blood for the blood god, Skulls for the throne.
They came for us led by the slaughter priest,
Selecting victims for their ghastly feast.
Hooting and hollering and laughing about the slaughter,
Then one of the brutes selected my daughter.
I pleaded and begged for them to take me in their stead,
I was bigger, I could keep them well fed.
They pushed me down and shoved my face in the ground,
I prayed to Sigmar to gain strength to kill these bloodbound.
They were kicking and punching and ready for the kill,
When the sky darkened, and time stood still.
I looked up to see a new daemon up in the air.
A bulbous creature on a great stone chair.
What new evil has now befallen our city from up high?
It emanated godlike powers, and glowered down from the sky.
The priest pointed at the creature and began to shout,
But was disintegrated before he could get the second "Meat" out.
Big tall lizards, all scales and claws,
Had the other’s throat in their jaws.
Then the lightning struck burning cannibals to their core,
My prayers were answered, Sigmar sent more.
The armored heroes, the lords of the storm,
From the lightning Sigmar’s best took form.
My daughter now safe, and hope in my heart,
As I watched the Lizards and Eternals tear them apart.
The battle ended, and down came a torrential flood,
Washing the earth clean of all the fouled blood.
We were free, no longer cattle,
The heroes stayed even after the battle.
Maybe they looked around and took pity,
But they stuck around to help rebuild our city.
Gigantic Lizardmen, worked ceaselessly and effortlessly moved stone,
All directed by the godlike frog on the floating throne.
New free people migrated in to help resettle the space,
And once rebuilt our saviors vanished without a trace.
Our city reduced to a concentration camp.
Our mighty knights high in their saddle,
Rode out to meet the battle,
To keep the hordes from our city wall,
But over time, every knight would fall.
Even Sir Dagr, our mightiest, the great,
Could not escape a terrifying fate.
He rode out to battle and was met with defeat,
I cry when I think of their chants, "Meat! Meat! MEAT!"
Our city fell and our walls crumbled.
Our strongest men all were humbled.
We pray to Sigmar day and night,
Hoping for him to give us the might,
To match the savagery of these monstrosities,
To make them pay for their atrocities.
Kept like livestock to keep us fresh,
So that they may eat our flesh.
They’d pick us clean, right to the bone,
Blood for the blood god, Skulls for the throne.
They came for us led by the slaughter priest,
Selecting victims for their ghastly feast.
Hooting and hollering and laughing about the slaughter,
Then one of the brutes selected my daughter.
I pleaded and begged for them to take me in their stead,
I was bigger, I could keep them well fed.
They pushed me down and shoved my face in the ground,
I prayed to Sigmar to gain strength to kill these bloodbound.
They were kicking and punching and ready for the kill,
When the sky darkened, and time stood still.
I looked up to see a new daemon up in the air.
A bulbous creature on a great stone chair.
What new evil has now befallen our city from up high?
It emanated godlike powers, and glowered down from the sky.
The priest pointed at the creature and began to shout,
But was disintegrated before he could get the second "Meat" out.
Big tall lizards, all scales and claws,
Had the other’s throat in their jaws.
Then the lightning struck burning cannibals to their core,
My prayers were answered, Sigmar sent more.
The armored heroes, the lords of the storm,
From the lightning Sigmar’s best took form.
My daughter now safe, and hope in my heart,
As I watched the Lizards and Eternals tear them apart.
The battle ended, and down came a torrential flood,
Washing the earth clean of all the fouled blood.
We were free, no longer cattle,
The heroes stayed even after the battle.
Maybe they looked around and took pity,
But they stuck around to help rebuild our city.
Gigantic Lizardmen, worked ceaselessly and effortlessly moved stone,
All directed by the godlike frog on the floating throne.
New free people migrated in to help resettle the space,
And once rebuilt our saviors vanished without a trace.
Heresy of Peace
Us lizards are just poems
We’re ninety percent myth
With a keenness of purpose
Approaching hyper-distillation.
And once upon a time
We were moonshine
Rushing down the throat of a stegadon
Yes, rushing down the long hallway
Despite what the telepathic message says
Yes, rushing down the long hall
Down the long stairs
In a building so tall
That it will always be there
That we won’t ever care -
It’s how we’ve always been led
Yes, it's part of a web
The geomantic covering
To tuck us into bed
On a night so beatific
In its tropical summer breeze
On the day that Lustria
Fell to its knees
After strutting around for millennia
Without saying thank you
Or please.
And the shock was subsonic
And the smoke was deafening
Between the setup and the punch line
Cause we were all in our right place in the battle line that day
We all stepped into that polar gate
And then while the fires were raging
We all climbed the pyramid stairs
We all held hands
And jumped into the hate.
And the exodus to Itza by foot and raptor
Looked more like war than anything I’ve seen so far.
So far
So far
So fierce and ingenious
A mythic spectre
So far gone
That every mage priest was struck dumb
And I'll tell you what, while we're at it
You can keep the uncaring Old Ones
Keep the propaganda
Keep each and every skink priest
That's been trying to convince me
To participate in some amphibious punk's plan to perpetuate retribution
Perpetuate retribution
Even as the blue toxic smoke of our lesson in retribution
Is still hanging like a veil
And there's ash on our glyphs
And there's ash on our scales
And there's a fine silt on every plaza
From Hexoatl to Oyxl…
So here's a toast to all the folks that live in Bretonnia, Araby, the Badlands
Here's a toast to the folks living in Kislev
Under the stone cold gaze of the Wasteland
Here's a toast to all those teachers and prophets
Who provide lesser races with a choice
Who stand down a threat the size of the Southlands
Just to listen to a young woman's voice
Here's a toast to all the folks on death row right now
Awaiting the plunging of a sacrificial blade
Who are shackled there with dread and can only escape into their heads
To find peace in the form of a dream.
Peace in the form of a dream.
Cause take away our arcane tools
And we are no different to Fourth race fools
Under the thumb of some blue blood royal son
Who stole by being born his people’s freedom
So it's time to pick through the rubble, clean the streets
And clear the air
Get our rulers to get their heads out of the sand
Out of someone else's desert
Out of their angry and infantile Great Plan
And quit the hypocritical chants of
Order over Chaos.
Both just a cage -
But that was another age.
Look, another window to see through
Way up here
On the millionth stair
In a pyramid so tall
That the whole world turned
Just to watch it fall.
Look
Another key
Another door
Ten percent literal
Ninety percent myth
A hundred thousand some poems disguised as reptiles
On an almost too perfect night
Must be more than pawns
In some offended cultist’s fight
So now it's your job
And it's my job
To make it all right
To make sure they didn't die in vain -
Sshh.
Baby listen
Hear the rain?
***
Adapted from Self Evident by Ani Difranco
Us lizards are just poems
We’re ninety percent myth
With a keenness of purpose
Approaching hyper-distillation.
And once upon a time
We were moonshine
Rushing down the throat of a stegadon
Yes, rushing down the long hallway
Despite what the telepathic message says
Yes, rushing down the long hall
Down the long stairs
In a building so tall
That it will always be there
That we won’t ever care -
It’s how we’ve always been led
Yes, it's part of a web
The geomantic covering
To tuck us into bed
On a night so beatific
In its tropical summer breeze
On the day that Lustria
Fell to its knees
After strutting around for millennia
Without saying thank you
Or please.
And the shock was subsonic
And the smoke was deafening
Between the setup and the punch line
Cause we were all in our right place in the battle line that day
We all stepped into that polar gate
And then while the fires were raging
We all climbed the pyramid stairs
We all held hands
And jumped into the hate.
And the exodus to Itza by foot and raptor
Looked more like war than anything I’ve seen so far.
So far
So far
So fierce and ingenious
A mythic spectre
So far gone
That every mage priest was struck dumb
And I'll tell you what, while we're at it
You can keep the uncaring Old Ones
Keep the propaganda
Keep each and every skink priest
That's been trying to convince me
To participate in some amphibious punk's plan to perpetuate retribution
Perpetuate retribution
Even as the blue toxic smoke of our lesson in retribution
Is still hanging like a veil
And there's ash on our glyphs
And there's ash on our scales
And there's a fine silt on every plaza
From Hexoatl to Oyxl…
So here's a toast to all the folks that live in Bretonnia, Araby, the Badlands
Here's a toast to the folks living in Kislev
Under the stone cold gaze of the Wasteland
Here's a toast to all those teachers and prophets
Who provide lesser races with a choice
Who stand down a threat the size of the Southlands
Just to listen to a young woman's voice
Here's a toast to all the folks on death row right now
Awaiting the plunging of a sacrificial blade
Who are shackled there with dread and can only escape into their heads
To find peace in the form of a dream.
Peace in the form of a dream.
Cause take away our arcane tools
And we are no different to Fourth race fools
Under the thumb of some blue blood royal son
Who stole by being born his people’s freedom
So it's time to pick through the rubble, clean the streets
And clear the air
Get our rulers to get their heads out of the sand
Out of someone else's desert
Out of their angry and infantile Great Plan
And quit the hypocritical chants of
Order over Chaos.
Both just a cage -
But that was another age.
Look, another window to see through
Way up here
On the millionth stair
In a pyramid so tall
That the whole world turned
Just to watch it fall.
Look
Another key
Another door
Ten percent literal
Ninety percent myth
A hundred thousand some poems disguised as reptiles
On an almost too perfect night
Must be more than pawns
In some offended cultist’s fight
So now it's your job
And it's my job
To make it all right
To make sure they didn't die in vain -
Sshh.
Baby listen
Hear the rain?
***
Adapted from Self Evident by Ani Difranco
Contemplation
Robbed of gods, of destiny, vengeance’s cold hand,
The First, Itzatecah preparing to repay
With blade and flame.
Spawn pools roiling with nascent life.
Waters answering the call to war,
New life to bring death.
Brute saurus striding in formation.
Clubs clashing shields, roaring oaths
Of blood to come.
Artifacts of power hoisting into place.
Collossi stomping and rearing, eager to charge,
To crush and burn.
Priest apothecaries chanting and stirring
Venom pots ripe with potent toxins,
With latent death
Vials grasping eagerly, hunters keen
To wet blow dart and javelin with poison,
With daemon ichor.
Heads bowed, the Lords waiting, seeking portents
From plaques, from stars. This is contemplation
Or indecision?
Robbed of gods, of destiny, vengeance’s cold hand,
The First, Itzatecah preparing to repay
With blade and flame.
Spawn pools roiling with nascent life.
Waters answering the call to war,
New life to bring death.
Brute saurus striding in formation.
Clubs clashing shields, roaring oaths
Of blood to come.
Artifacts of power hoisting into place.
Collossi stomping and rearing, eager to charge,
To crush and burn.
Priest apothecaries chanting and stirring
Venom pots ripe with potent toxins,
With latent death
Vials grasping eagerly, hunters keen
To wet blow dart and javelin with poison,
With daemon ichor.
Heads bowed, the Lords waiting, seeking portents
From plaques, from stars. This is contemplation
Or indecision?
Partial Translations from the Song of the Old Ones
Song of the Old Ones
Slann Chapter
Praise be the Old Ones and all they devise
First of the First all hail the mighty Slann
Mighty in Magic, powerful and wise
Upon their minds rests the Old Ones’ Great Plan
Earth, sea, flame, sky, over all they tower
Cold blood and warm blood, all life shall serve
Light, shadow, death yield high magic power
All praises and honors the Slann deserve
Five Spawnings will oversee the world sphere
Eternally, they serve their divine roles
Preserved in death, maintain their bodies here
Great Rituals preserve their mighty souls
Just below the Old Ones, the Slann stand tall
Strong and wise, with dominion over all
Song of the Old Ones
Saurus Chapter
Praise be the Old Ones and all that they spawn
Praise be the Saurus second of the First
Warring till all Anathema are gone
Destroying the Old Foes, Fallen and cursed
They serve as fang and talon of the Slann
Hides and scale of their masters faithfully
Safeguard the Wise Ones serving the Great Plan
For the Slann they battle endlessly
Age and sickness the Saurus will not know
Only through battle may Saurus find death
Each scar endured the Saurus shall grow
Stronger and stronger till their final breath
Strong for all First, they help all the others
Standing strong with their spawning brothers
Song of the Old Ones
Skink Chapter
Praise be the Old Ones and all that they make
Praise be the Skinks, Third spawning of the First
Tasks too small for Slann the Skinks undertake
The First’s vital tasks between Skinks disbursed
What Saurus cannot destroy, skinks shall waylay
When Saurus rage grows too strong, Skinks restrain
Through cunning and poison, foes they shall slay
Outside of war, the cities they maintain
From many spawnings the Skinks are amassed
Workers, warriors, masters of the beast
Each Skink spawned with his own preordained caste
All serve the Great Plan both greatest and least
Their vital tasks are many and varied
Upon their backs, other First carried
Song of the Old Ones
Third Race
Praise to the Old Ones and all that they birth
Third of their creations, brave, strong, and stern
Stone and metal they will work from the earth
Metal talons and fangs might they can earn
Runic power, mightiest of the Third
Bind Chaos power in metal in stone
Use of symbol, glyph, and powerful word
Harness the power for Order alone
The mountains and hills the Third will defend
Like the mountains that sustain them they stand
Anathema and Old Foes they shall rend
Their strength and courage meets every demand
Beware the Third Race’s greed; take them to task
Should the Third’s reach exceed their grasp
Song of the Old Ones
Slann Chapter
Praise be the Old Ones and all they devise
First of the First all hail the mighty Slann
Mighty in Magic, powerful and wise
Upon their minds rests the Old Ones’ Great Plan
Earth, sea, flame, sky, over all they tower
Cold blood and warm blood, all life shall serve
Light, shadow, death yield high magic power
All praises and honors the Slann deserve
Five Spawnings will oversee the world sphere
Eternally, they serve their divine roles
Preserved in death, maintain their bodies here
Great Rituals preserve their mighty souls
Just below the Old Ones, the Slann stand tall
Strong and wise, with dominion over all
Song of the Old Ones
Saurus Chapter
Praise be the Old Ones and all that they spawn
Praise be the Saurus second of the First
Warring till all Anathema are gone
Destroying the Old Foes, Fallen and cursed
They serve as fang and talon of the Slann
Hides and scale of their masters faithfully
Safeguard the Wise Ones serving the Great Plan
For the Slann they battle endlessly
Age and sickness the Saurus will not know
Only through battle may Saurus find death
Each scar endured the Saurus shall grow
Stronger and stronger till their final breath
Strong for all First, they help all the others
Standing strong with their spawning brothers
Song of the Old Ones
Skink Chapter
Praise be the Old Ones and all that they make
Praise be the Skinks, Third spawning of the First
Tasks too small for Slann the Skinks undertake
The First’s vital tasks between Skinks disbursed
What Saurus cannot destroy, skinks shall waylay
When Saurus rage grows too strong, Skinks restrain
Through cunning and poison, foes they shall slay
Outside of war, the cities they maintain
From many spawnings the Skinks are amassed
Workers, warriors, masters of the beast
Each Skink spawned with his own preordained caste
All serve the Great Plan both greatest and least
Their vital tasks are many and varied
Upon their backs, other First carried
Song of the Old Ones
Third Race
Praise to the Old Ones and all that they birth
Third of their creations, brave, strong, and stern
Stone and metal they will work from the earth
Metal talons and fangs might they can earn
Runic power, mightiest of the Third
Bind Chaos power in metal in stone
Use of symbol, glyph, and powerful word
Harness the power for Order alone
The mountains and hills the Third will defend
Like the mountains that sustain them they stand
Anathema and Old Foes they shall rend
Their strength and courage meets every demand
Beware the Third Race’s greed; take them to task
Should the Third’s reach exceed their grasp
The Skaven
as told by Tex’Halik, with apologies to Edgar Allen Poe.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I plotted, muscles weary –
Over a twisted way to make a beast’s mind fit for war –
While I schemed, ambitions hatching, suddenly there came a scratching,
As of talons roughly catching, catching at my tower door.
"Cursed attack beasts," I muttered, "scratching at my tower door –
But they cannot reach this floor."
On I worked, ambition burning, for such glory I was yearning.
Soon again I heard the scratching, somewhat louder than before.
Open here I flung the shutter, and with a flap, and hop, and flutter,
In there stepped a winged nutter, moulder hands all dripping gore.
Smug, entitled, cursed Skaven, dripping blood onto my floor,
Come to taunt the skink some more.
Did they hope to catch me fearing? My countenance started sneering,
At the look of putrid hatred that the wretched ratman wore.
"Though thy horns be shorn and shaven, thou" I said, "art Grey Seer, Skaven,
And thy face is torn and craven. Thou art welcome here no more.
My next pitbeast’s like a death god, which the Empire once named Morr."
Quoth the Skaven: "Never Morr."
"Be that word our sign of parting, ratty fiend!" I shrieked upstarting.
"Get thee back into the tempest, and from Hell Pit’s warp-touched shore!
Take thy filthy, Skaven scheming, take thy verminous deceiving,
Take them out into the evening! Take them from my tower door –
Lest I take up my scalpels and let your lifeblood stain my floor.
Let me see thee nevermore!"
as told by Tex’Halik, with apologies to Edgar Allen Poe.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I plotted, muscles weary –
Over a twisted way to make a beast’s mind fit for war –
While I schemed, ambitions hatching, suddenly there came a scratching,
As of talons roughly catching, catching at my tower door.
"Cursed attack beasts," I muttered, "scratching at my tower door –
But they cannot reach this floor."
On I worked, ambition burning, for such glory I was yearning.
Soon again I heard the scratching, somewhat louder than before.
Open here I flung the shutter, and with a flap, and hop, and flutter,
In there stepped a winged nutter, moulder hands all dripping gore.
Smug, entitled, cursed Skaven, dripping blood onto my floor,
Come to taunt the skink some more.
Did they hope to catch me fearing? My countenance started sneering,
At the look of putrid hatred that the wretched ratman wore.
"Though thy horns be shorn and shaven, thou" I said, "art Grey Seer, Skaven,
And thy face is torn and craven. Thou art welcome here no more.
My next pitbeast’s like a death god, which the Empire once named Morr."
Quoth the Skaven: "Never Morr."
"Be that word our sign of parting, ratty fiend!" I shrieked upstarting.
"Get thee back into the tempest, and from Hell Pit’s warp-touched shore!
Take thy filthy, Skaven scheming, take thy verminous deceiving,
Take them out into the evening! Take them from my tower door –
Lest I take up my scalpels and let your lifeblood stain my floor.
Let me see thee nevermore!"
Daily Life
The cracking sun cuts through the window
with Terradons calling out to Chotec’s embrace.
I crawl from my bedroom pallet,
my Spawn-brothers all chirping
as fledgling Coatls,
we, the children of the Old Ones.
Heavy is Lustrian loam,
worming between my claws
into the shapes of my choosing,
the power of the Gods
residing in my cold-blood,
a follower of the Old Ones.
Baking heat in and out,
and heavy rains beating on the promenade.
I turn to my kiln,
rich is my toil and work
with great glyphs and earthenware
as a servant of the Old Ones.
The smell rises from sodden stones.
We wait and witness
the sacrifice in lifeblood,
iron rubies drip onto the sacred gold,
rejoicing in their favour,
as worshippers of the Old Ones.
We dine on wriggling grubs
and crunch on gem-like beetles.
Feasting after our labours,
the slow night creeps as Huanchi;
our blood sluggish and resting.
Dreamers of the Old Ones.
The cracking sun cuts through the window
with Terradons calling out to Chotec’s embrace.
I crawl from my bedroom pallet,
my Spawn-brothers all chirping
as fledgling Coatls,
we, the children of the Old Ones.
Heavy is Lustrian loam,
worming between my claws
into the shapes of my choosing,
the power of the Gods
residing in my cold-blood,
a follower of the Old Ones.
Baking heat in and out,
and heavy rains beating on the promenade.
I turn to my kiln,
rich is my toil and work
with great glyphs and earthenware
as a servant of the Old Ones.
The smell rises from sodden stones.
We wait and witness
the sacrifice in lifeblood,
iron rubies drip onto the sacred gold,
rejoicing in their favour,
as worshippers of the Old Ones.
We dine on wriggling grubs
and crunch on gem-like beetles.
Feasting after our labours,
the slow night creeps as Huanchi;
our blood sluggish and resting.
Dreamers of the Old Ones.
War-path
Emerald hues of grasping leaves
with snaking vines, and snaking lives
inter-woven in the jungle canopy,
all vibrant with the colour of life.
As shadows of Huanchi
cross paths with
Chotec’s light-
in the depths of my sacred home.
Bloodflies and stegawasps,
all thrumming in the air
and flicker with their wings,
as the mists descend from the heavens.
Warm flesh scented, and found,
amongst the broken path.
We march, my spawn-kin and I,
to the drums that have beaten
continuously, millennia at a time.
What trespassers dare defy
the rule of the Old Ones? Upon
their sacred soil
we reign supreme
in the name of their domain.
Come, foul Xlanax!
Know that you shall
not find our temples empty,
our lands corrupted or
undefended.
The Great Plan will continue,
seeking vengeance
for its completion.
We are their servants,
and we are ready this day.
Emerald hues of grasping leaves
with snaking vines, and snaking lives
inter-woven in the jungle canopy,
all vibrant with the colour of life.
As shadows of Huanchi
cross paths with
Chotec’s light-
in the depths of my sacred home.
Bloodflies and stegawasps,
all thrumming in the air
and flicker with their wings,
as the mists descend from the heavens.
Warm flesh scented, and found,
amongst the broken path.
We march, my spawn-kin and I,
to the drums that have beaten
continuously, millennia at a time.
What trespassers dare defy
the rule of the Old Ones? Upon
their sacred soil
we reign supreme
in the name of their domain.
Come, foul Xlanax!
Know that you shall
not find our temples empty,
our lands corrupted or
undefended.
The Great Plan will continue,
seeking vengeance
for its completion.
We are their servants,
and we are ready this day.
The Mosquito God
As I grow up I was presented a world.
I explored this realm that was laid before me.
In joy, I read through ancient tomes
And watched the armies of greater men march across the lands.
Though the ether I watch great battles unfold, new and old.
But the Great Mosquito sent his Four Horsemen.
They threw the world into chaos and ripped it from me.
I saw it spiraling away, a dead rock in the night.
An asteroid burning in the atmosphere
To be gone forever.
My memory is all that remains of the world I entered too late.
But the great mosquito threw before me nine new worlds blessed in law and greed.
Laughing as the waves rose high.
But I picked up the chains holding me down, made them mine.
I fought back. And we will conquer these lands from the god of greed.
In the name of chaos and order, in the name of destruction and death.
For freedom, as we may always remember the lands belong to us.
As I grow up I was presented a world.
I explored this realm that was laid before me.
In joy, I read through ancient tomes
And watched the armies of greater men march across the lands.
Though the ether I watch great battles unfold, new and old.
But the Great Mosquito sent his Four Horsemen.
They threw the world into chaos and ripped it from me.
I saw it spiraling away, a dead rock in the night.
An asteroid burning in the atmosphere
To be gone forever.
My memory is all that remains of the world I entered too late.
But the great mosquito threw before me nine new worlds blessed in law and greed.
Laughing as the waves rose high.
But I picked up the chains holding me down, made them mine.
I fought back. And we will conquer these lands from the god of greed.
In the name of chaos and order, in the name of destruction and death.
For freedom, as we may always remember the lands belong to us.
The Serpent
Upon my wings of fire and light
Across vast cities and sea
Wastes and mountainous might
To the Old Ones I journey
Too late I came, they have gone
Hope extinguished by the dark
To see them once more I long
Yet all to see is their faded mark
Forgotten and fallen they are
Plans unravelled, all in ruin
For this they travelled so far?
Neath reality madness a-brewing
Children left lost and alone
Servants perhaps, though deeply loved
To fight on with sinew and bone
Such children in scale hide gloved
I see them struggle below
Verminous tides smash and tear
Never ending, their numbers grow
Until a lone child sees my stare
Strange little child with crest a-red
Calls me a name and does pray
Armies of red children bring dread
To the ratfolk in hundreds they slay
I listen, my wings never tire
I listen as blood is offered
I listen to the children’s fire
I take what is proffered
I am the serpent
I am the vengeance
I am the scourge of the rat
I am Sotek
Upon my wings of fire and light
Across vast cities and sea
Wastes and mountainous might
To the Old Ones I journey
Too late I came, they have gone
Hope extinguished by the dark
To see them once more I long
Yet all to see is their faded mark
Forgotten and fallen they are
Plans unravelled, all in ruin
For this they travelled so far?
Neath reality madness a-brewing
Children left lost and alone
Servants perhaps, though deeply loved
To fight on with sinew and bone
Such children in scale hide gloved
I see them struggle below
Verminous tides smash and tear
Never ending, their numbers grow
Until a lone child sees my stare
Strange little child with crest a-red
Calls me a name and does pray
Armies of red children bring dread
To the ratfolk in hundreds they slay
I listen, my wings never tire
I listen as blood is offered
I listen to the children’s fire
I take what is proffered
I am the serpent
I am the vengeance
I am the scourge of the rat
I am Sotek
There was a poetry "master",
who had to write even faster,
he ran out of time,
to write his own rhyme,
he forgot his own competition - disaster!
- Also a Lizardman was present.
who had to write even faster,
he ran out of time,
to write his own rhyme,
he forgot his own competition - disaster!
- Also a Lizardman was present.
