The Songs of My People

[Ruideside/OM (RP)]

Greetings, my name is Otmar Messer, and I am a mercenary. I have been such for most of my life and mercenaries are my people.

The life of a sellsword is often hard and lonely, and the men take great comfort in the songs they share. Whether on the march, or around the fire in camp, we are wont to sing to pass the miles and hours, or to take us home, however briefly, to those we left behind so long ago. These songs come from every corner of Cerilia and they are passed from Company to Company and they form a common bond among men from many different lands.

I have been collecting these songs for many years and I am setting them down both to preserve them for posterity and to share them with those who may never have heard them. I hope you find as much joy in them as my people and I do.

[OOC: Some of these are rip offs of existing songs, and some are poems I have written myself, or adaptations of poems I have written. I will put a small note like this below each entry to let you know which each is and if possible provide a link to the original song. Enjoy!]

[Ruideside/OM (RP)]

My Resting Place
This woeful song is a favourite of mercenaries in their cups all across the northern lands.

Don't look for me where joys are tasted
You will not find me there my sweet stroll.
In the fields where lives are wasted.
Yonder is my resting place.
Yonder is my resting place.

Don't look for me where children are singing.
You will not fine me there my sweet stroll
Look ye where the hands are wringing.
Yonder is my resting place.
Yonder is my resting place.

Don't look for me where the lamps are glowing.
You will not fine me there my sweet stroll.
Where spirits fly and the blood is flowing.
Yonder is my resting place.
Yonder is my resting place.

So if you love me still come the morrow
Then come to me where I can be found
And bath my bones with the salt of your sorrow
Make it sweet my resting place.
Make it sweet my resting place.

[OOC: This one is adapted from June Tabor's haunting cover of Morris Rosenfeld's Mayn Rue Platz. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51Qf_oYbYYs  (Note: "Stroll" is an archaic English slang word for a prostitute)]

[Ruideside/OM (RP)]

Lady of Haldwaren
This is a traditional song from Grevesmühl. It is also known as "Green Eyes".

They told me in the morning,
while I was still in bed,
the King had signed the order
and now my love was dead.
And the memory of your green eyes
haunted me in my sleep,
no matter how hard I tried
I could not even weep.

So I said: "To Hell with the Kingdom,
to Hell with the Law!"
I took anything I wanted
and killed everyone I saw.

I went up to the mountains and called up all the clans,
then came across the border with sword and spear in hand...
for your green eyes.
I cut down the corn in all the North-Country fields
with your name emblazoned in blood upon my shield...
for your green eyes.
Their soldiers lay dead on the ground by the score,
I cut them down and went looking for more...
for your green eyes.
all for your eyes.

So I said: "To Hell with the Kingdom,
to Hell with the Law!"
I took anything I wanted
and killed everyone I saw.

At each town on the way I stormed across the wall,
and never slowed down till I'd taken them all...
for your green eyes.
I burned their barns and houses all down,
and spread the salt, thick as snow upon the ground...
for your green eyes.
Their sons, wives and daughters, I killed them out of hand,
I hunted them down throughout all the land...
for your green eyes.
All for your eyes.

So I said: "To Hell with the Kingdom,
to Hell with the Law!"
I took anything I wanted
and killed everyone I saw.

But still the memory of your green eyes
haunts me in my sleep,
and no matter how hard I try
I cannot help but weep.

[OOC: This one is a poem I wrote many years ago, I changed only the name, which was originally "For Your Green Eyes".]

[Ruideside/OM (RP)]

Gone for a Reaver
An old lament of Rjuvik origin.

Here I stand on Yvarre's wall
Who would blame me to cry my all
Every tear soft into the sea does fall
My Sorli has gone for a reaver

Woe, woe, and woe I say
His nets and creel are laid away
Till he comes back I'll rue the day
My Sorli has gone for a reaver

With sword and shield he sailed away
The Captain called he couldn't stay
Till he comes back I'll rue the day
My Sorli has gone for a reaver

Woe, woe, and woe I say
His nets and creel are laid away
Till he comes back I'll rue the day
My Sorli has gone for a reaver

I'll sell my loom, I'll sell me reel
I'll even sell my spinning wheel
To buy my love a coat of steel
My Sorli has gone for a reaver

Woe, woe, and woe I say
His nets and creel are laid away
Till he comes back I'll rue the day
My Sorli has gone for a reaver

[OOC: This one is a rip off of the traditional English song Johnny Has Gone For A Soldier as sung by John Tams. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9NMWih0Ags ]

[Ruideside/OM (RP)]

The Land Called Victory
Yet another lament, this is a recent one which originated in Boeruine, and has gained popularity throughout the Ruideside

I am a youthful lady
My troubles they are great,
My tongue is scarcely able
My grievance to relate;
Since I have lost my true love,
That was ever dear to me,
He's gone to win his fortune,
In the land called Victory.

And many a pleasant evening,
My love and I did meet,
He clasped me round my slender waist,
And gave me kisses sweet;
I gave to him my hand and heart,
And he vowed he'd marry me,
But I did not know that my love,
Would go to the land called Victory.

Mourn, sisters, mourn in dismay;
For the brave Lord Doneim's men,
That came not home from Victory.
Mourn, sisters, mourn in dismay;
For the brave Lord Doneim's men,
That came not home from Victory

My parents could not endure my love,
Because he was so poor,
Therefore he never did presume,
To come within the door;
But had he been some noble lord,
Born a man of high degree,
They'd ne'er have let the lad I love,
Go to the land called Victory.

They spoke to you of glory,
And monsters to assail,
May Healyn be your guardian, love,
Till you come home to me,
Just like an angel weeping,
On the rock sighs every day,
Awaiting for my own true love,
To return from the land called Victory.

Mourn, sisters, mourn in dismay;
For the brave Lord Doneim's men,
That came not home from Victory.
Mourn, sisters, mourn in dismay;
For the brave Lord Doneim's men,
That came not home from Victory.

Here’s success unto the Companies,
Those men of noble fame,
And glory to the general,
Bold Doneim was his name;
At the Battle of the Talahar,
Their bravery cleared the way,
But my love was slain with Doneim Boer,
Upon that very day.

There was thirty in the warband,
They did my love surround,
And four and ten of that accursed band,
Went bleeding to the ground;
My love was overpowered,
Though he fought most manfully,
They slew him there beneath the dark trees,
In the land called Victory.

Mourn, sisters, mourn in dismay;
For the brave Lord Doneim's men,
That came not home from Victory.
Mourn, sisters, mourn in dismay;
For the brave Lord Doneim's men,
That came not home from Victory.

[OOC: This one is adapted from the traditional English song "The Victory" as sung by the band Steeleye Span. I had to change it up and rearrange it quite a bit to make it work. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipMoOUacI7c ]

[Ruideside/OM (RP)]

The Thin Black Line
This is the Marching Song of the Brethren of the Black Flag and it is also affectionately known by the men as "The Walking Dead Song"

There on some nameless hillside
Behind a low stone wall
Stood the last three hundred
Here we stand or here we fall

In this land devoid of colour
Thinkin of my own Haelee
Thinkin that there is no place
That I wouldn't rather be

Could feel the blood rushing
Like a drumbeat in my head
Knowing that by this evening
We would likely all be dead

Sent a prayer up to Heaven
"Gods have mercy on us all"
This empty land has a way
of making a man feel small

Watching the ridge they'll come over
Trying to push away my doubt
Glanced quick at the others
when we heard the heathens' shout

Then we saw them in their thousands
And the Sergeant he did bawl
Remember we are Brechtish men
And here we stand or here we fall

[OOC: This is another of my poems, this one was written as "The Thin Red Line" and the only change was to substitute "Haelee" for "Marie" and "Brechtish" for "English"]

[Ruideside/OM (RP)]

The Relief of Adlersburg
This song, also known as "The Weirech Soldier Laddie" is the marching song of the Third Wierech Company of Foot, known as the Glorious 3rd.

'Twas a morning in Anarirai
I was walking to Zilber
When I heard a battle cry
From the mountains over head
As I looked up in the sky
I saw a Wierech soldier laddie
He looked at me right fearlessly and said:

Will ye stand in the band like a true Wierech man,
And go and fight the beasts from out the Crown?
Will ye not march with me to yonder battle field?
For tonight we lift the siege of Adlersburg!

Said I to that soldier boy
"Won't you take me to your Captain
T'would be my pride and joy
For to march with you today.
My young brother fell in Hoarladt
And my son out Faestadt way!"
Unto the noble captain I did say:

I Will stand in the band like a true Wierech man,
And go and fight the beasts from out the Crown.
I will march with thee to yonder battle field,
And together lift the siege of Adlersburg!

When in the end we held the field
In the dim light of morning
With our banners flying low
To the memory of our dead
We returned unto our homes
But not so that soldier laddie
Yet I never will forget those words he said:

Will ye stand in the band like a true Wierech man,
And go and fight the beasts from out the Crown?
Will ye not march with me to yonder battle field?
For tonight we lift the siege of Adlersburg!

Will ye stand in the band like a true Wierech man,
And go and fight the beasts from out the Crown?
Will ye not march with me to yonder battle field?
For tonight we lift the siege of Adlersburg!

[OOC: This one is a pretty direct rip off of the Irish folks song "Irish Soldier Laddie". There are any number of versions of this song on YouTube, but in my opinion the best is this one by the band Celtic Pirates. https://myspace.com/celticpirates/music/song/irish-soldier-laddie-25566207 ]

[Ruideside/OM (RP)]

The Curtain Walls Are Coming Down
This song, believed to be of Anuirean origin, is a great favourite among the men, it starts with all the voices singing the opening verse and then it takes the form of a call and answer song with each voice singing alternate verses, and then it concludes with all the voices singing the final verse. There are literally thousands of verses as they are often improvised and the song can last for hours, though the opening three verses and closing verse are always the same. Presented here are some of the more common verses.

The curtain walls are coming down
There ain't no liquor to be found
No, there ain't no liquor to be found

I'll give you my shoes for a bottle of booze
I'll drink it up and lay right down and die
Yes, I'll drink it up and lay right down and die

The curtain walls are coming down
There ain't no liquor to be found
No, there ain't no liquor to be found

I can eat more fat meat than you can cook in a week
I'll tell you no doggone lies
Yes, I'll tell you no doggone lies

The curtain walls are coming down
There ain't no fat meat to be found
No, there ain't no fat meat to be found

I'll can eat more chicken than a pretty gal can fry
I'll tell you no doggone lies
Yes, I'll tell you no doggone lies

The curtain walls are coming down
There ain't no chicken to be found
No, there ain't no chicken to be found

Well what you gonna do when your money is all gone
I'll hang my head down and cry
Yes, I'll hang my head down and cry

The curtain walls are coming down
There ain't no purser to be found
No, there ain't no purser to be found

I'll lay with a woman till the morning comes around
She'll never look at another man
Yes, she'll never look at another man

The curtain walls are coming down
There ain't no women to be found
No, there ain't no women to be found

I'll pawn you my knife, I'll pawn you my chain
I'll pawn you my gold wedding ring
Yes, I'll pawn you my gold wedding ring

The curtain walls are coming down
There ain't no broker to be found
No, there ain't no broker to be found

Come say a few prayers over me head
So I can go to heaven when I die
Yes, so I can get to heaven when I die

The curtain walls are coming down
There ain't no preacher to be found
No, there ain't no preacher to be found

You can plant bright flowers to bloom on my grave
They'll rise up and I’ll live once again
Yes, they'll rise up and I’ll live once again

The curtain walls are coming down
There ain't no flowers to be found
No, there ain't no flowers to be found

The curtain walls have now come down
There ain't a living soul to be found
No, there ain't a living soul to be found

[OOC: This one is based on the traditional American bluegrass song Raleigh and Spencer. It has been rearranged quite a bit and I wrote some of the verses myself and copied some directly. The version I have is a live one by Steve Earle. http://youtu.be/GdVIEg0KGx4 ]

[Ruideside/OM (RP)]

General Messer
This is something of a cadence song, with a single voice singing the odd numbered lines and the whole body of soldiers singing the even numbered ones. It is a satirical song that originated within my own Brethren of the Black Flag and is in the long tradition of soldiers good natured gripping. It has become something of an unofficial marching song for them. the men will break into this song whenever I pass by them on the march. The last verse where I am declared alive was added by myself off the cuff when the men finished the song and I turned to them and sang out "But General Messer's not dead and gone" and the men picked right up on it and carried on with the song and now it is always sung that way, though if I am around the men always wait for me to sing those lines. I believe that this fosters a healthy sense of camaraderie between my men and I.

General Messer gained the day
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
Oh, General Messer gained the day
    Keep me from his burying grounds

Till me dying day in his army
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
Till me dying day in his army
    Keep me from his burying grounds

Oh I wish I was old Messer's son
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
I'd hire a ship ten thousand tons
    Keep me from his burying grounds

Till me dying day in his army
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
Till me dying day in his army
    Keep me from his burying grounds

I'd load her down with ale and rum
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
And all of me brothers would have some
    Keep me from his burying grounds

Till me dying day in his army
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
Till me dying day in his army
    Keep me from his burying grounds

If General Messer were dead and gone
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
If General Messer were dead and gone
    I’d glad see him to his burying ground

Till me dying day in his army
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
Till me dying day in his army
    Keep me from his burying grounds

We’d dig his grave with a silver spade
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
And his shroud of the softest silk is made
    I’d glad see him to his burying ground

Till me dying day in his army
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
Till me dying day in his army
    Keep me from his burying grounds

And we lower him down on a golden chain
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
On every link we'll carve his name
    I’d glad see him to his burying ground

Till me dying day in his army
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
Till me dying day in his army
    Keep me from his burying grounds

But General Messer's not dead and gone
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
But General Messer's not dead and gone
    So keep me from his burying grounds

Till me dying day in his army
    I’ve walked to long, Otmar, carry me along
Till me dying day in his army
    Keep me from his burying grounds

[OOC: This one is a pretty basic rewrite of the traditional English song "General Taylor as sung by Steeleye Span. http://youtu.be/_AvGwqLAmD4]

[Ruideside/OM (RP)]

Khouranish Brides
This is an old song, dating back three hundred years to the legendary mercenary captain Hurtur Aroeane's expedition to Khourane to fight against Maalvar's invasion of that land. Though it is an old song, it's subject remains current, as the fate of the a "campaign wife" is still generally to be abandoned when the contract ends or when the Company is sent elsewhere. This is not the case in my own Brethren of the Black Flag, as we make a great effort to provide for the women and children of our Brothers. It is our custom to ensure that they are brought with us to our next station, or if that is too dangerous to the nearest base. For example, during this latest campaign, our families accompanied us to Dhoesone and were lodged in Nolien until it was safe for them to join us here in our new land. It is expensive, but it does a soldier good to have his woman near him on a long campaign.

And we sailed out of Medoere bound for Nurida harbour
With spears a-gleaming and pride to the fore
We'd little to hope but we tried hard to cherish
The thoughts of our loved ones on Medoere's fair shore
 
And soon we were transported through hell and its fury
Through smoke and through fire, through terror and through flame
And at Sahadein we destroyed Maalvar's army
And in that short time we were heroes of Khourane
 
And I met with a maiden hair black as the raven
Her eyes they did glister like two diamonds bright
We spoke not a word at our very first meeting
And I lay in her arms all that long Khouranish night
 
And we travelled together o'er mountain and valley
And she by my side through many's the fight
She tended my suffering and she salved me of pity
And bore me a daughter for my heart's delight
 
And we marched into Ber Falaia proud Aroeane's army
The war being over it's homeward we're bound
And all on the quayside - the weeping and wailing
Four hundred women left on that cold ground
 
Farewell and adieu to you Khouranish lady
Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Khourane
For we've received orders to sail home to Medoere
But I know in some time we'll return once again
 
And if ever I'm returning it's with gold in great plenty
And if I return it's with gold in great store
I'll search far and wide for my Khouranish lady
Who brought me such peace in the midst of such war
 
Farewell and adieu to you Khouranish lady
Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Khourane
For we've received orders to sail home to Medoere
But I know in some time we'll return once again

Farewell and adieu to you Khouranish lady
Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Khourane
For we've received orders to sail home to Medoere
But I know in some time we'll return once again
Once again
Once again
Once again

[OOC: This beautiful song is yet another traditional English song from the Peninsular War. I only changed the names and a word or two to make it applicable to the game world. The best version I have is by by John Tams. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjQzmriHn5I ]

[The Dark Lily/ML]

The Gentleman Soldier
Lest His Excellency the Lord Commander give you the impression that his soldiers are all noble romantics pining for their wives and children, my Lady Margeet has suggested that I sing for you a song of a different timbre, one that shows another side to these men's interactions with the local women in whichever land they may find themselves.
This song is of Brecht origin, though none can say in just which realm it was first sung. It is a loud and raucous song, one which the soldiers are wont to sing when they have been too long a-drinking, an occurrence which it would be dishonest of me to deny is not uncommon. And so, if you will forgive a lady being so indelicate as to sing such a scurrilous song, I present to you, the Gentleman Soldier...

It's of a gentlemen soldier as a sentry he did stand
He saluted the fair maid with a wavin' of the hand
So boldly then he kissed and he passed it off as a joke
He drilled her up in the sentry box, wrapped up a the soldiers cloak
And the drums are going rat-ta-ta-tat and the pipes do loudly play,
Fare thee well Hilde me dear I must be going away

All night they tossed and tumbled till daylight did appear
The soldier rose, put on his clothes, said fare thee well me dear
For the drums they are a beating and the pipes do sweetly play
If it weren't for that dear Hilde my dear, then with you I'd gladly stay
And the drums are going rat-ta-ta-tat and the pipes do loudly play,
Fare thee well Hilde me dear I must be going away

Oh come you gentlemen soldier, "Won't you marry me?"
"Oh no me dearest, Hilde. Such a thing can never be."
"I've a wife already and children I have three
Two wives are allowed in this army but one is too many for me."
And the drums are going rat-ta-ta-tat and the pipes do loudly play,
Fare thee well Hilde me dear I must be going away

If anyone comes a courtin' you, you can treat them to a glass
If anyone comes a courtin' you, you can say you're a country lass
You don't have to tell them that ever you played this joke
That you were drilled in the sentry box wrapped up in a soldier's cloak
And the drums are going rat-ta-ta-tat and the pipes do loudly play,
Fare thee well Hilde me dear I must be going away

Oh come you gentlemen soldier, why didn't you tell me so
Me parents will be angry when this they come to know
And when nine long months had come and past, the poor girl she was shamed
She had a little militia boy and she didn't know his name
And the drums are going rat-ta-ta-tat and the pipes do loudly play, 
Fare thee well Hilde me dear I must be going away



[OOC: This is another traditional English song, all I did was change the girl's name from Polly to Hilde to give it a bit more of a Brecht flavour, other than that it is unchanged. There are a large number of versions available, but my personal favourite is this rocking version by one of my all-time favourite bands, The Pogues. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=705FYkvs_94 ]

[The Dark Lily/ML]

The Crow in His Castle
This is a new song that has but recently begun to be sung in the Ruideside. It would appear that the Lord Commander's aggressive policy regarding the remain unsubdued Thuraz tribes is not altogether popular in some circles. The song originated in the locally raised militia, and it has been picked up by some of the troops as well, particularly those in the Lord-Lieutenant's Red Brigade. I cannot say I am not altogether pleased about that, however, the men will sing their songs and as the Lord-Commander himself says: A Captain needs to know the mood of his men.

The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn,
Now is the time for a child to be born.
The sheep she will bleat, the cow she will low,
And if he's a boy to the wars he will go,
For the crow in his castle.

And if it should be that this baby's a girl,
O never you mind if her hair doesn't curl.
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
And the shadow about her wherever she goes,
of the crow in his castle.

The crow in his castle, heart black as the night,
O somebody's baby is born for a fight.
The crow in his castle, with his heart so black,
O somebody's baby is not coming back,
From the the crow in his castle.

Your mother and father, they'll sweat and they'll save;
To build you a coffin and dig you a grave.
Hushabye, little one, never you weep?
For he've got a game that will put you to sleep,
Does the crow in his castle.

Bring me a bow and I'll shoot that bird dead,
That's what your mother and father once said.
The crow in his castle, what shall we do?
This is the thing that I leave up to you.
Oh the crow in his castle.

[OOC: This is an adaptation of Stanley Carter's haunting anti-war song song "The Crow on the Cradle". My favourite version is this one by Jackson Browne and David Lindlay: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Mqc8qHmDd8 ]