I've been told, that you've been bold,
But I'm not saying it's true.
I wouldn't presume, to ever exhume
Your past for public view.
Your secrets are yours, to lock behind doors,
Or stow away under your bed,
And I can forget, without a regret,
Anything that you might have said.
I think that you'll find that I'm disinclined,
To expose what some may think I know
It's not an obsession or sense of discretion,
But forgetfullness that makes it so.
For if you tell a story, and it starts to bore me,
I imagine what I'd like to hear,
So that any retelling, may be more compelling,
To any who might lend an ear.
So don't bother lying, or waste your time trying,
To hide what you'd like to conceal,
Lest in my dissembling, Something quite resembling
The truth to the world I reveal.
Songs of Tottespiel
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Ogregrim
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Sun Nov 21, 2004 7:12 pm
- Location: A Cave By The River that Runs to the Sea
- Contact:
A Little Friendly Advice to Conspirators
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
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Brokenbone
- Chosen of Forumamus, God of Forums
- Posts: 5771
- Joined: Mon May 16, 2005 1:07 am
- Location: London, Ontario, Canada
I especially like the latest Ogregrim offering.
The Cormyrian Knights one from Melody gives some interesting ideas for uhh... playing anyone steeped in the Cormyrian chivalric tradition (*climbs onto front of Cormyrian Harlequin novel, shakes hair in an unseen breeze, buffs armor*)
The Cormyrian Knights one from Melody gives some interesting ideas for uhh... playing anyone steeped in the Cormyrian chivalric tradition (*climbs onto front of Cormyrian Harlequin novel, shakes hair in an unseen breeze, buffs armor*)
ALFA NWN2 PCs: Rhaggot of the Bruised-Eye, and Bamshogbo
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack
DMA Staff
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack
DMA Staff
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Ogregrim
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Sun Nov 21, 2004 7:12 pm
- Location: A Cave By The River that Runs to the Sea
- Contact:
Nobody's Bussines
So here we are,
We've gone too far,
Again,My Friend.
The door is closed,
So no one knows,
And the day is at it's end.
You should not be,
Alone with me,
And I've no bussiness being with you.
It's trouble we make,
For trouble's own sake,
But it's just what we always do.
I'm a fool for those forbidden things,
Those nasty naughty,
Bad and bawdy,
Best kept hidden things.
Those things I do,
When I'm with you,
When it' just you and me on our own.
Things the world would condemn,
But who cares about them?
It's nobody's bussiness but our own.
And if we turn a tidy little profit...
Or if we buy a slave and then we off it...
And if we sell addictions to the junkies...
And if we buy off other people's flunkies...
And if we set the cults in opposition,
With baseless hints and idle supposition...
And if to satisfy our own base vanity
We should plunge a city into insanity...
And if we should turn the heroes to villany...
Then expose them to authorities quite willingly...
If now and then we throw a dog a bone...
It's nobody's bussiness.
It's nobody's bussiness.
It's nobody's bussiness, my darling...
But
Our
Own!
We've gone too far,
Again,My Friend.
The door is closed,
So no one knows,
And the day is at it's end.
You should not be,
Alone with me,
And I've no bussiness being with you.
It's trouble we make,
For trouble's own sake,
But it's just what we always do.
I'm a fool for those forbidden things,
Those nasty naughty,
Bad and bawdy,
Best kept hidden things.
Those things I do,
When I'm with you,
When it' just you and me on our own.
Things the world would condemn,
But who cares about them?
It's nobody's bussiness but our own.
And if we turn a tidy little profit...
Or if we buy a slave and then we off it...
And if we sell addictions to the junkies...
And if we buy off other people's flunkies...
And if we set the cults in opposition,
With baseless hints and idle supposition...
And if to satisfy our own base vanity
We should plunge a city into insanity...
And if we should turn the heroes to villany...
Then expose them to authorities quite willingly...
If now and then we throw a dog a bone...
It's nobody's bussiness.
It's nobody's bussiness.
It's nobody's bussiness, my darling...
But
Our
Own!
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
-
Ogregrim
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Sun Nov 21, 2004 7:12 pm
- Location: A Cave By The River that Runs to the Sea
- Contact:
Adrift upon an autumn wind,
A dancing leaf of gold,
That strays upon the zephyr's whim,
As the days grow short and cold.
It wanders whither breezes blow,
Once from its bough carressed,
And worries not where it shall go,
Once it has come to rest.
A thing of beauty fragile grown,
It's days of bright green passed,
But the path it chooses is its own,
When embraced by the earth at last.
And in the arms of the dark black earth,
Thay cold, dark winter loam,
Its life was beauty, and there its worth,
As it slumbers at last at home.
A dancing leaf of gold,
That strays upon the zephyr's whim,
As the days grow short and cold.
It wanders whither breezes blow,
Once from its bough carressed,
And worries not where it shall go,
Once it has come to rest.
A thing of beauty fragile grown,
It's days of bright green passed,
But the path it chooses is its own,
When embraced by the earth at last.
And in the arms of the dark black earth,
Thay cold, dark winter loam,
Its life was beauty, and there its worth,
As it slumbers at last at home.
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
-
Ogregrim
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Sun Nov 21, 2004 7:12 pm
- Location: A Cave By The River that Runs to the Sea
- Contact:
Invitation to the Spider's Silk
Oh, come ye, ye dark dusky maidens,
With the fire of lust in your eyes,
Oh, come ye with your crushed coral lips,
Sweetened with honey and lies.
Come ye, with your empassioned promises,
Come ye, with your whispering sighs,
Come with your cinnanmon scented tresses,
And the dew of the dawn on your thighs.
Come ye, with your nails all vermillion,
And soft bosoms that will fall and will rise,
Come ye, with the mysteries of midnight,
And all wicked wiles that you devise.
Come ye, with your claims of your innocence,
And fidelity of the broad stretching skies,
Come ye, now into my parlour,
For of late there's a shortage of flies.
With the fire of lust in your eyes,
Oh, come ye with your crushed coral lips,
Sweetened with honey and lies.
Come ye, with your empassioned promises,
Come ye, with your whispering sighs,
Come with your cinnanmon scented tresses,
And the dew of the dawn on your thighs.
Come ye, with your nails all vermillion,
And soft bosoms that will fall and will rise,
Come ye, with the mysteries of midnight,
And all wicked wiles that you devise.
Come ye, with your claims of your innocence,
And fidelity of the broad stretching skies,
Come ye, now into my parlour,
For of late there's a shortage of flies.
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
-
Ogregrim
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Sun Nov 21, 2004 7:12 pm
- Location: A Cave By The River that Runs to the Sea
- Contact:
Tiresias
If you're down by the docks in the evening,
And see an old man with a cup and a cane,
Won't you stop and ask him directions,
And spare him a little of your change.
His back may be bent and crooked,
And a long beard may hang from his chin,
But he knows just where you are headed,
And he can tell just where you have been.
It's true that he is a blind man,
But that doesn't mean he doesn't see,
All the folks call him Tiresias,
He has the gift of true prophecy.
He is always kind to the children,
And he tells them what they'll grow to be,
But he shook his head in sorrow,
The first time he placed his hands on me.
He said, "The road stretches out before you,
And it is crooked and it is long,
But I dare not say where it will lead you.
I'll just pray to the gods that I'm wrong."
So if you're down by the docks in the evening,
And see an old man with a cup and a cane,
Won't you stop and give him my blessings,
And spare him a little of your change.
And see an old man with a cup and a cane,
Won't you stop and ask him directions,
And spare him a little of your change.
His back may be bent and crooked,
And a long beard may hang from his chin,
But he knows just where you are headed,
And he can tell just where you have been.
It's true that he is a blind man,
But that doesn't mean he doesn't see,
All the folks call him Tiresias,
He has the gift of true prophecy.
He is always kind to the children,
And he tells them what they'll grow to be,
But he shook his head in sorrow,
The first time he placed his hands on me.
He said, "The road stretches out before you,
And it is crooked and it is long,
But I dare not say where it will lead you.
I'll just pray to the gods that I'm wrong."
So if you're down by the docks in the evening,
And see an old man with a cup and a cane,
Won't you stop and give him my blessings,
And spare him a little of your change.
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.
-
Ogregrim
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 163
- Joined: Sun Nov 21, 2004 7:12 pm
- Location: A Cave By The River that Runs to the Sea
- Contact:
Scuttlebutt
Rumours and gossip are a terrible ill,
But if i don't tell you, someone else will;
So I'll dish out the dirt, And you can swallow your fill.
But I can't guarantee it's all true;
So I'll leave the decision up to you.
There's corruption in high places in the city of Waterdeep,
And that wicked folks play while the honest folk sleep,
And some of the Lords will take a midnight creep,
But take that all with a grain of salt,
And if you don't, then it's not my fault.
And you just might hear, if you know who to ask,
That certain of the clergy may neglect their task,
And meet in secret behind a Mask.
Of course that might be an unfounded lie,
That true or false, they are bound to deny.
And it pained me deeply, when I heard this:
There is something contagious and medically amiss,
In one or two of the girls in the Long Slow Kiss.
And though jumping to conclusions might be rash,
Best to find better brothels in which to spend your cash.
And overheard recently in a local bar,
Certain merchants, though I can't say just who they are,
Have sold their souls in the service of Shar.
Now while such talk might just be malicious,
You must admit that the notion is quite delicious.
And I don't want to be a tattler of tales,
But a certain yathrin, never mind the details,
Has devoloped a taste for human males.
But of course such a claim deserves little credit,
Probably wise if we both just forget it.
And had you heard , though it's surely lies,
That the Xanathar have been hiring spies,
To cut off Menzoberranzan's supplies.
But of such things, I'll no more speak,
Lest some bit of truth should perchance l spring a leak.
The trouble with gossip, is that there is no knowing,
If a story is ending, or if it is growing,
Yet the rumours seem to be ever-flowing.
But that's all the juicy tidbits I've got,
Whether you choose to believe it or not.
But if i don't tell you, someone else will;
So I'll dish out the dirt, And you can swallow your fill.
But I can't guarantee it's all true;
So I'll leave the decision up to you.
There's corruption in high places in the city of Waterdeep,
And that wicked folks play while the honest folk sleep,
And some of the Lords will take a midnight creep,
But take that all with a grain of salt,
And if you don't, then it's not my fault.
And you just might hear, if you know who to ask,
That certain of the clergy may neglect their task,
And meet in secret behind a Mask.
Of course that might be an unfounded lie,
That true or false, they are bound to deny.
And it pained me deeply, when I heard this:
There is something contagious and medically amiss,
In one or two of the girls in the Long Slow Kiss.
And though jumping to conclusions might be rash,
Best to find better brothels in which to spend your cash.
And overheard recently in a local bar,
Certain merchants, though I can't say just who they are,
Have sold their souls in the service of Shar.
Now while such talk might just be malicious,
You must admit that the notion is quite delicious.
And I don't want to be a tattler of tales,
But a certain yathrin, never mind the details,
Has devoloped a taste for human males.
But of course such a claim deserves little credit,
Probably wise if we both just forget it.
And had you heard , though it's surely lies,
That the Xanathar have been hiring spies,
To cut off Menzoberranzan's supplies.
But of such things, I'll no more speak,
Lest some bit of truth should perchance l spring a leak.
The trouble with gossip, is that there is no knowing,
If a story is ending, or if it is growing,
Yet the rumours seem to be ever-flowing.
But that's all the juicy tidbits I've got,
Whether you choose to believe it or not.
It has been my experience that, given the opportunity, people will in the end do what they truly desired to do in the beginning. Save time, let them, then they have only themselves to blame or you to thank.