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Tamriel Vault Birthday Bard For The Day

• Ebonslayer

  

  Member
   

  April 1, 2016

  Well, I don't think most stealth assassins have those muscles and if he were a really good one he wouldn't have a wanted poster.

  Well, I don't think most stealth assassins have those muscles and if he were a really good one he wouldn't have a wanted poster.
• Paws

  

  Member
   

  April 1, 2016

   You brought a chuckle forth from my mirthless soul, well done Mirric

   You brought a chuckle forth from my mirthless soul, well done Mirric

• Paws

  

  Member
   

  April 1, 2016

  Man, you killed the dog! Unbelievable  

  Very cool, Wolfie. Choosing an image to inspire a poem is a great idea, may do that myself and see what happens

  Man, you killed the dog! Unbelievable  

  Very cool, Wolfie. Choosing an image to inspire a poem is a great idea, may do that myself and see what happens

• Sotek

  

  Member
   

  April 1, 2016

  Thanks Phil.

  Have a look through the various pictures and art. I'd love to see what you come up with.

  Thanks Phil.

  Have a look through the various pictures and art. I'd love to see what you come up with.

• A-Pocky-Hah!

  

  Member
   

  April 1, 2016

  

  A Song to The Shao'kai

  Beware, beware the woman in black,

  She hunts and hunts for her kin also in black,

  Orphaned at young and turned to a killer,

  Now she's of no use, so they decided to kill her.

  But they failed, oh they failed with their blood being spilled,

  And now she hides in the shadows, waiting for her strength to rebuild,

  The Thalmor were relentless, and they wanted her dead,

  So they put her on the list and branded her R.E.D.

  No one knows where she is, the woman in black,

  They say she still hides, waiting to get her payback,

  So if you ever walk near the Embassy and hear Elves scream and cry,

  Then you know it was the work of the woman called the Shao'kai.

  

  A Song to The Shao'kai

  Beware, beware the woman in black,

  She hunts and hunts for her kin also in black,

  Orphaned at young and turned to a killer,

  Now she's of no use, so they decided to kill her.

  But they failed, oh they failed with their blood being spilled,

  And now she hides in the shadows, waiting for her strength to rebuild,

  The Thalmor were relentless, and they wanted her dead,

  So they put her on the list and branded her R.E.D.

  No one knows where she is, the woman in black,

  They say she still hides, waiting to get her payback,

  So if you ever walk near the Embassy and hear Elves scream and cry,

  Then you know it was the work of the woman called the Shao'kai.

• Paws

  

  Member
   

  April 1, 2016

   Awesome!

   Awesome!

• Sotek

  

  Member
   

  April 1, 2016

  Well done Axius, some really nice moments in here...

  Clever word play.

  Well done Axius, some really nice moments in here...

  Clever word play.

• A-Pocky-Hah!

  

  Member
   

  April 1, 2016

  My only regret is that the singer who singed this would probably be hunted down by the Thalmor.

  My only regret is that the singer who singed this would probably be hunted down by the Thalmor.

• Paws

  

  Member
   

  April 1, 2016

  Here's a quick poem about one of my favourite Nords on the site, Legion and Edana's Fjorrod Gale-Heart.

  Hunter's Soul

  As the sun set red over the Western Reach,

  To Kyne young Fjorrod did beseech,

  "My bow is supple, from a strong old yew,

  Bless my arrow, let it fly straight and true."

  The stag was quiet, nostrils flaring,

  Its antlers silhouetted, a noble bearing,

  Fjorrod was in awe of the noble beast,

  Of Kyne's majesty as his arrow released.

  His shot was good, his aim was straight,

  Piercing the heart of the hart, sealing it's fate,

  The stag ran on before life gave out,

  The hunter thanked Kyne, his faith devout.

  Over his shoulders the body of the stag was slung,

  As Fjorrod walked on, to the stars he sung,

  Thanking them for the feast to come,

  Promising that of the animal he would waste none.

  To Whiterun's walls the hunter walked,

  Safe from the predators who around him stalked,

  For they saw in him a kindred soul,

  A man of prophecy from an ancient scroll.

  None would attack the Breath of Kyne,

  His spirit a gift from the Hawk, divine,

  His Nordic heart beating in his chest,

  He had the Voice of the Sky and so was blessed.

  

  Here's a quick poem about one of my favourite Nords on the site, Legion and Edana's Fjorrod Gale-Heart.

  Hunter's Soul

  As the sun set red over the Western Reach,

  To Kyne young Fjorrod did beseech,

  "My bow is supple, from a strong old yew,

  Bless my arrow, let it fly straight and true."

  The stag was quiet, nostrils flaring,

  Its antlers silhouetted, a noble bearing,

  Fjorrod was in awe of the noble beast,

  Of Kyne's majesty as his arrow released.

  His shot was good, his aim was straight,

  Piercing the heart of the hart, sealing it's fate,

  The stag ran on before life gave out,

  The hunter thanked Kyne, his faith devout.

  Over his shoulders the body of the stag was slung,

  As Fjorrod walked on, to the stars he sung,

  Thanking them for the feast to come,

  Promising that of the animal he would waste none.

  To Whiterun's walls the hunter walked,

  Safe from the predators who around him stalked,

  For they saw in him a kindred soul,

  A man of prophecy from an ancient scroll.

  None would attack the Breath of Kyne,

  His spirit a gift from the Hawk, divine,

  His Nordic heart beating in his chest,

  He had the Voice of the Sky and so was blessed.

  
• Sotek

  

  Member
   

  April 1, 2016

  And once again I am stunned by your art with words Phil.

  

  And once again I am stunned by your art with words Phil.