Maglor Makalaure Canafinwe Feanorion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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eachdraidh2014-12-01 01:40 pm
bythewaves) wrote in eachdraidh2014-12-01 01:40 pm
Video | Both Courts
[ When the video starts it is to a burst of laughter and calls for 'More!' - this is a tavern, somewhere in Cothromach, perhaps, considering the number of dwarves visible.
There is a minstrel seated by the fire, silver harp in his lap, and he swigs back a drink that has obviously just been passed to him in reward for his last song to roars of approval. The silver eight-rayed-star on his cloak may be familiar, although his features are curiously a little blurred, as if hard to hold on to in the flickering light. But his voice now - his voice is probably very familiar to some. ]
Well now good sirs, another is it? And what would you have of me? Joy or sorrow, war or peace?
Sing us something to get us laughing, boyo!
[ He bows in thought and then smiles ]
Ah, then, this one perhaps might suit, considering recent events eh?
[ And he launches into a rolling rollicking tune with a very familiar subject ]
Oh the world will talk of a ruddy fox
Across all time and space
And not because / o’ his fearsome claws
Or punch-attracting face
The monarchs try / to win their war
and finally take the day
But that damn fox / with all his plots
keeps trying to get his way
As popular as a mangy rat
He’s sure he’s so much better than that
Reynard, that phony king in Eachdraaaidh
A pox on that / phony king in Eachdraaaidh
Grabbin’ at a throne / to call his own
Pretendin’ he’s the king
[stage whispered:](We’d rather shove him / in a box)
(and out a fairy ring)
He throws an / angry tantrum
if he cannot have his way
Moans o’er his shard / ‘cause life’s so hard
then allies does betray
He’d like to think that he’s the first
but we all know he’s just the worst
A pox on that / phony king in Eachdraaaidh
He kidnaps all / our dearest friends
And robs us from our beds
but mark, we’ll yet / collect that debt
and crush that fucker dead
We’ll party hard / and party long
when that damned fox is gone
but until then / through mount and glen
we’ll sing this catchy song
So sing it loud and sing it long
Let nobody forget this song!
The scurvy’d, fleabit phony king in Eachdraidh
The snivellin’ grovellin’ / measly weasely
blabberin’ jabberin’; /gibbering jabberin’
blunderin’ plottin’ / wheelin’ dealin’
Reynard! That phony king in Eachdraaaidh
[ ooc: with thanks to Waver-mun & Kaldur-mun, who wrote this. And yes, Mags is going tavern to tavern and singing this ]
There is a minstrel seated by the fire, silver harp in his lap, and he swigs back a drink that has obviously just been passed to him in reward for his last song to roars of approval. The silver eight-rayed-star on his cloak may be familiar, although his features are curiously a little blurred, as if hard to hold on to in the flickering light. But his voice now - his voice is probably very familiar to some. ]
Well now good sirs, another is it? And what would you have of me? Joy or sorrow, war or peace?
Sing us something to get us laughing, boyo!
[ He bows in thought and then smiles ]
Ah, then, this one perhaps might suit, considering recent events eh?
[ And he launches into a rolling rollicking tune with a very familiar subject ]
Oh the world will talk of a ruddy fox
Across all time and space
And not because / o’ his fearsome claws
Or punch-attracting face
The monarchs try / to win their war
and finally take the day
But that damn fox / with all his plots
keeps trying to get his way
As popular as a mangy rat
He’s sure he’s so much better than that
Reynard, that phony king in Eachdraaaidh
A pox on that / phony king in Eachdraaaidh
Grabbin’ at a throne / to call his own
Pretendin’ he’s the king
[stage whispered:](We’d rather shove him / in a box)
(and out a fairy ring)
He throws an / angry tantrum
if he cannot have his way
Moans o’er his shard / ‘cause life’s so hard
then allies does betray
He’d like to think that he’s the first
but we all know he’s just the worst
A pox on that / phony king in Eachdraaaidh
He kidnaps all / our dearest friends
And robs us from our beds
but mark, we’ll yet / collect that debt
and crush that fucker dead
We’ll party hard / and party long
when that damned fox is gone
but until then / through mount and glen
we’ll sing this catchy song
So sing it loud and sing it long
Let nobody forget this song!
The scurvy’d, fleabit phony king in Eachdraidh
The snivellin’ grovellin’ / measly weasely
blabberin’ jabberin’; /gibbering jabberin’
blunderin’ plottin’ / wheelin’ dealin’
Reynard! That phony king in Eachdraaaidh
[ ooc: with thanks to Waver-mun & Kaldur-mun, who wrote this. And yes, Mags is going tavern to tavern and singing this ]
audio;
I am glad to be of service, sir! May you carry the tune with you to warm you in the cold nights!