Chaos Dwarf Songs [WHFB]

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    • Slave's Cave

      On bronze plates in Tower of Gorgoth did Prophet Nazharrbul engrave,
      how he personally led campaign for fifty thousand and one slave.

      Hell deep mines of Azgorh the volcano for new slave labour ever crave,
      Prophet marched off with sharp axes from the Tower shrine's dark nave.

      Trains then trundled south and taught the ghouls of Vorag to behave,
      when the taskmaster with whip and knife deep lashes to them gave.

      Hashut gave then Prophet vision of the skull road he must pave,
      otherwise his masked army would not starvation off stave.

      In a frenzied bloody sacred trance Nazharrbul incoherently did rave,
      he discovered hidden rat pit in abandoned dwarf enclave.

      Midst Ash Ridge Mountains' olden mines we did not single rat life save,
      for we never tricky Skaven their foulest disease forgave.

      Heading north Nazharrbul then warned heinously that he would shave,
      if his warriors could not break into Mount Grey Hag to enslave.

      Smashing open flimsy gates our men then entered stinking cave,
      where the goblin tribes converged to crash against us in a wave.

      Battle chaos turned when boss Igraz charged Prophet with a glaive,
      but was by Hashut's power flayed and scorched into the grave.

      This fine torture sent the weak goblins to rout not very brave,
      left us in the cave to shackle fifty thousand and one knave.

      - Chaos Dwarf children rhyme song
    • Meat's Feat

      The year when lava fissures burnt eight thousand green slave feet.
      one Cathayan slave found gems in a coal mine cleat.

      Harried Li-Wan was enslaved at grand host's crushing defeat,
      he failed to run away since man was no athlete.

      As befitted lowly slave hobgoblins did him brutally beat,
      in the coal mine he survived on rotting vermin meat.

      Glinting among blackest coal the gems did Li-Wan's eyes greet,
      cunningly he then the gems did hide away most neat.

      Li-Wan knew overseers him for his find as dirt would treat,
      so he thought to hierarchy outwit and cheat.

      Prophet Drazhoath for inspections flew out from Ashstreet,
      in coal mine he on Cinderbreath still had his seat.

      Slaveman then crushed through the guards in a desperate feat,
      Li-Wan did hope to placate the chaos dwarf elite.

      Harried Li-Wan bowed and presented hands with gems so sweet,
      hoping Drazhoath his wishes for a release would meet.

      Grateful to the slave kneeling in Bale Taurus breath's heat,
      Prophet declared slaveman to be his next meal to eat.

      - Chaos Dwarf children rhyme song
    • Mound's Hound

      Grim Hellsmith Belzhur was thrown out to the ground,
      for Chaos pantheic devotion profound.

      Open worship of Dark Gods of the north did us astound,
      he was exiled to travel the world around.

      How outcast managed to reach far west did us confound,
      yet he ended his days in a heathen mound.

      Belzhur's nightly wanderings were all of them westbound,
      in the Empire's forests they went undergound.

      One stormy night Belzhur heard someone who did pound,
      from inside a hill it did make him dumbfound.

      Outcast crawled through the opening which was oval round,
      inside the cairn a necromancer he found.

      Tomb raiders had for the grave very long been inbound,
      yet skeletons remained for undead playground.

      The startled necromancer had not some ancient king bound,
      for he gave instead a commanding sound.

      Out from an open pit there leaped the bones of a hound,
      and Belzhur then ended his days earthbound.

      - Chaos Dwarf children rhyme song
    • Hat's Cat

      Old guard Azhimbul owned an imported sabretusk cat,
      prowling our catacomb labyrinth he did it lat.

      In old Azhimbul's dwelling it dropped skulls on orc-hide mat,
      cat did keep Skaven at bay from gaining habitat.

      The two patrolled the olden tunnels under Hashut's ziggurat,
      pair's heavy footsteps did scare each and every bat.

      Old guardsman Azhimbul came upon an oddity at the third qanat,
      when they cornered with blades one very dirty rat.

      The Skaven ratman chittered about being some diplomat,
      bringing urgent message to our highest theocrat.

      Ratman drew then forth from his black cloaks a Tilean ducat,
      and told the guard it was of the greatest gold carat.

      Old guardsman Azhimbul had eleven tuskbabes begat,
      such a dutiful father have honour under hat.

      By Prophet's will took he no bribes in any format,
      axing for the ratman he did tell him that.

      Knives in hands the Skaven dodged it like an acrobat,
      old guard could not know where his target sat.

      The rat assassin stabbed old Azhimbul in his broadest fat,
      yet saw not what the sabretusk did strike out at.

      Severing the ratman's neck the cat then red blood spat,
      and Azhimbul tossed the corpse in a filthy giant vat.

      - Chaos Dwarf children rhyme song
    • Mold's Gold

      One should always the Father of Darkness praise eightfold,
      when you His holy temple taxes does uphold.

      Should you think our tributes to Hashut are too manifold,
      see to Kalbur the Mean whom taxes did withhold.

      Kalbur was a low smith with a poverty's household,
      his wickedness drove him to be very bold.

      He gilted bare lead as tithe to Prophets' stronghold,
      attempting to Hashut himself blindfold.

      One night of ill omens smith poured gold into a mold,
      casting a household idol to get sold.

      Yet out of the solid mold sprang a Daemon of hot gold,
      and Kalbur was of Hashut's punishment told.

      Hashut's idol then caught cheater in flaming stranglehold,
      burnt him to ashes which never got cold.

      So if you wrong thoughts do bear then fate of Kalbur behold,
      who broke sacred laws and thus did not die old.

      - Chaos Dwarf children rhyme song
    • Moan's Throne

      Black vengance time was come when the foul tidings were all known,
      how Vorag our slavers into slavery had thrown.

      Ghoul King Vorag Bloodytooth had southern realm carved out with bone,
      misdeeds to high Hashut would he now by death atone.

      Temple's Prophets burnt for oaths a giant slave corpse cone,
      furnaces in armouries for holy war then shone.

      Messages of vile affront at last reached High Priest's zone
      clamour of the faithful was resoundingly war prone.

      Lord Hashut's calls for retribution did High Priest not long postpone,
      else Zhargon's every power would be dunned back like a loan.

      For first time in a century High Priest Zhargon had himself shown,
      and mustered grandest army to slay every ghoulish drone.

      Zhargon the Great from Temple of triumphs prophesied in cruel tone,
      and his Immortal bodyguards their axe heads did now hone.

      High Priest Zhargon was then borne by slaves upon a golden throne,
      army was then armed with new gun flared like a trombone.

      Marching through the Gates of Zharr he then did come upon old crone,
      name she lacked and dressed she was in ancient orc-hide gown.

      The hag warned Zhargon to wage war if he did not sacrifice black stone,
      the High Priest merely found her words to be dull monotone.

      Crone then declared that the Father of Darkness would make us moan,
      too hot Zhargon's wrath over her then finally had grown.

      Lord Hashut's Second Kingdom under Zhargon's rule did Dark Lands own,
      Zhargon of the crone thus made skeleton xylophone.

      High Priest claimed Hashut's favour was in Azgorh's ash windblown,
      then marched his army into the large plain of dragon bone.

      First Ghoul King Vorag's foul forces in the south did make us groan,
      soon undead foes our deepest ranks into tatters had mown.

      In shamed retreat we had with our corpses Dark Lands bestrown,
      as Vorag's shrieking terror fiends over our heads had flown.

      Bitterly we does still regret Zhargon's arrogance alone,
      this failing in our dominance may we never condone.

      - Chaos Dwarf children rhyme song
    • Written by: Dînadan
      Performed by: MadHatter

      Beware the Skaven My Son
      Audio

      Beware the Skaven my Son,
      Hither they come, clawing and gnawing,
      Thrashing and gnashing, biting and fighting.
      Hither they scamper and tramper,
      Blades bare and faces unfair.


      Beware the Skaven my Son,
      Hither they come, teeming and seething,
      Crashing and smashing, lashing and slashing.
      Hither they charge and barge,
      Red eyes gleaming and sharp teeth sheening.


      Beware the Skaven my Son,
      Hither they come, for thee.


      -Chaos Dwarf Nursery Rhyme
    • Written by: MadHatter

      My Hat It Has a Steelspike

      We'll start with the axemen, ready?

      My hat it has a steelspike
      A steelspike has my hat
      And had it not a steelspike
      It would not be my haaaaat!!

      And next, the pirates, ready?

      My hat it bears an elfskull
      An elfskull bears my hat
      And had it not an elfskull
      It would not be my haaaaaaat!!

      And next, the slavers, ready?

      My hat it has a gnoblar
      A gnoblar has my hat
      And hat it not a gnoblar
      It would not be my haaaaaat!!!

      Alright, and last, the prophets, ready?

      My hat I wear for Hashut
      Dark Father loves my hat
      And was it not for Hashut
      I'd mostly just been faaaaat!!!

      - Chaos Dwarf children song
    • Written by: KNC
      Illustrated by: @forgefire



      Zharn's Craving

      Were lost back when no blessed ziggurat stood,
      the warriors of Zharn wandered lands of no good,
      hungry and lacking both metal and wood,
      they scavenged as best as they could.

      For cloth they both orc 'n' beast skin did peel,
      Zharn's band tore off flesh from skull down to heel,
      bladders for pouches containing bone meal,
      lived off a land without any appeal.

      They were found by our folk hiding out in a cave,
      their haggard chief Zharn suddenly did rant 'n' rave,
      Dark Gods of the north he shouted to crave,
      and was made into lowly cage slave.

      - Chaos Dwarf children rhyme song
    • Fourteen Daemons Times Unholy Twelve

      Fourteen Daemons times unholy twelve,
      butcher all peace and go to war,
      a mystery thus shall we now delve,
      Hashut's idol we stand before.

      Sleep...

      Four greater gods of a Chaos so dark,
      shackle and whip up the slave,
      follow the Prophet and order's bark,
      ancestors unsworn in cave.

      Sleep...

      Forty and twenty in Bull God's name,
      living by power so raw,
      spawns of Temple are never tame,
      obedience alone is the law.

      Sleep...

      Eighteen Daemons times unholy nine,
      labour and toil is a life,
      blessed be marked blood of cursed line,
      stronger by weaklings' strife.

      Sleep...

      Eight winds of magic of Chaos so wild,
      kindle the fire and smoke,
      trample and crush both mother and child,
      truths lying the Daemon spoke.

      Sleep...

      Eighty and forty for Bull God's might,
      growing flesh over the cog,
      from lessers do not forgive any slight,
      Hobgoblin kicked like a dog.

      Sleep...

      Twelve minor Daemons times unholy five,
      secrets in carvings of old,
      pit mine and quarry are busy like hive,
      altar may never grow cold.

      Sleep...

      One and a fifth bone for Chaos on high,
      barter on later your soul,
      damnation will power for Hashut a-buy,
      mining both metal and coal.

      Sleep...

      Hundred plus twenty by Bull God's seed,
      you must be hard and coarse,
      slave creatures both must suffer and bleed,
      lay behind axe all your force.

      Sleep, or by rod weep!

      - Chaos Dwarf lullaby
    • Twelve Little Hobgoblins

      Twelve little Hobgoblins saw a comet in heaven,
      one of them got flattened and then there were eleven.

      Eleven little Hobgoblins shared on a hen,
      one swallowed his knife and then there were ten.

      Ten little Hobgoblins started to whine,
      master dropped one in furnace and then there were nine.

      Nine little Hobgoblins formed their own state,
      there was a coup in the palace and then there were eight.

      Eight little Hobgoblins diced at eleven,
      one choked on the dice and then there were seven.

      Seven little Hobgoblins found a pile of bricks,
      they stoned one to death and then there were six.

      Six little Hobgoblins started to connive,
      one didn't watch his back and then there were five.

      Five little Hobgoblins walked at the shore,
      one pulled a dagger and then there were four.

      Four little Hobgoblins splashed in the sea,
      up came a Merwyrm and then there were three.

      Three little Hobgoblins went to a loo,
      one drowned another and then there were two.

      Two little Hobgoblins sat in the sun,
      down came an eagle and then there were one.

      One little Hobgoblin juggled knife all alone,
      it cut his own throat and then there were none.

      - Chaos Dwarf children rhyme song
    • The Unruly Idol

      [Clap! Clap! Clap!]

      Akkarakad the carver put chisel to stone,
      hammered and cursed at his bitter task,
      chinking 'til fingers flayed to the bone,
      for Hashut on high must in glory bask,
      carved out an idol 'n' slivers they flown,
      sully and crusty he opened a flask,
      glaring at idol twelve grudges sown,
      drank 'til he swilled down fullest cask,
      and emptied himself until idol it shone,
      who witnessed all through its silent mask,
      and decided this sin in blood must atone,
      and no one may ever for mercy ask!

      [Clap! Clap! Clap!]

      Akkarakad carved out a monster from rock,
      insulting 'n' cursing granite he could mock,
      for idol its own consecration would block,
      killing and crushing to everyone's shock!

      [Clap! Clap! Clap!]

      Akkarakad the carver gave idol to master,
      who with it a bloodletting altar would build,
      waved off the carver and chewed oleaster,
      while working at altar were craftsmen skilled,
      polished to finish eleven and one pilaster,
      while lowly slaves at the idol milled,
      whipped on in blood to lift idol faster,
      and as it rose the master was thrilled,
      but idol it slipped 'n' mauled into plaster,
      then rolling sideways all slaves were killed,
      all while the master howled at disaster!

      [Clap! Clap! Clap!]

      Akkarakad carved out a monster from rock,
      insulting 'n' cursing granite he could mock,
      for the idol its own consecration would block,
      killing and crushing to everyone's shock!

      [Clap! Clap! Clap!]

      Akkarakad the carver ran for the yells,
      all folks fighting hard for this idol to tame,
      they toil unto death where the altar dwells,
      carver dishonoured saw his own shame,
      warriors charging in armour as shells,
      rolling and falling did idol them maim,
      rather they should've run for the wells,
      for now idol broils them alive with its flame,
      sorceror then strikes back with dark spells,
      but idol of stone only cursed carver's name,
      falling upon him its vengeance quells,
      and carver lived out his life as a lame!

      [Clap! Clap! Clap!]

      - Chaos Dwarf children clapping song
    • Written by: Dînadan

      Zharr-Naggrund Is Burning Down

      "Zharr-Naggrund is burning down,
      Burning down, burning down
      Zharr-Naggrund is burning down,
      Our Dark Father."

      "Then build it up with ash and clay,
      Ash and clay, ash and clay,
      Build it up with ash and clay,
      My Dark Children."

      "Ash and clay will wash away,
      Wash away, wash away,
      Ash and clay will wash away,
      Our Dark Father."

      "Then build it up with brick and mortar,
      Brick and mortar, brick and mortar,
      Build it up with brick and mortar,
      My Dark Children."

      "Brick and mortar will not stay,
      Will not stay, will not stay,
      Brick and mortar will not stay,
      Our Dark Father."

      "Then build it up with iron and steel,
      Iron and steel, iron and steel,
      Build it up with iron and steel,
      My Dark Children."

      "Iron and steel will bow and break,
      Bow and break, bow and break,
      Iron and steel will bow and break,
      Our Dark Father."

      "Then build it up with silver and gold,
      Silver and gold, silver and gold,
      Build it up with silver and gold,
      My Dark Children."

      "Silver and gold were stolen away,
      Stolen away, stolen away,
      Silver and gold were stolen away,
      Our Dark Father."

      "Then go take them back,
      Take them back, take them back,
      Then go and take them back,
      My Dark Children."

      "Silver and gold have been taken back,
      Taken back, taken back,
      Silver and gold have been taken back,
      Our Dark Father."

      "Now build it up with all these things,
      All these things, all these things,
      Now build it up with all these things,
      My Dark Children."

      "Zharr-Naggrund stands anew,
      Stands anew, stands anew,
      Zharr-Naggrund stands anew,
      Hail the Father."



      - Dawi Zharr nursery rhyme dating back to the years following the Black Orc rebellion referring to the sack of the city and its reconstruction. There are many variations, but this is the most common. Another common version replaces the last stanza with a refrain of the first speaking to the pessimism and belief in the finality of all things that lies within a Dawi Zharr's heart. The rhyme is also used as the basis of a game among beardlings - they start off the rhyme as normal, with one taking the role of the Dark Father and the rest the Dark Children, then the Dark Father will invent a new combination of materials and then One of the Dark Children will reply with why those will not work. If they cannot, they are deemed to have lost the game and all the players sing

      "Zharr-Naggrund has burnt down,
      Burnt down, burnt down,
      Zharr-Naggrund has burnt down,
      And it's all your fault!"


      The intent behind this is that because of the Dark Child whose turn it was could not find fault with the latest suggestion, the Zharr-Naggrund in the rhyme was built with faulty materials and thus burnt down. For losing, the child in question is normally punished with a punishment somehow related to the materials in question. If the Dark Father player cannot think of a combination of materials that hasn't been used before, then the other players sing

      "You're not the Dark Father,
      Not the Father, not the Father,
      You're not the Dark Father,
      Blasphemer!"


      In which case it is he who receives the punishment.

      Once all the Dark Children have had a go the Dark Father player sings the penultimate stanza of the regular rhyme and the Dark Children reply with the final one and the game is ended.

      A modified version is often played with slaves with 'Wretched Slaves' in place of 'My Dark Children' and 'Our Glorious Master' in place of 'Our Dark Father'. It is very rare for this version of the game to end without at least half the slaves losing.
    • Slaves Are Plenty Useful

      Well met!

      What to do?
      What to dooo?

      What shall we do with the slaves aplenty?
      What shall we do with the slaves so dirty?
      What can they do?
      And for what can we use them?
      That's the bloody question.

      But you, friend, will find out,
      that slaves are plenty useful!

      You can ship them,
      you can whip them,
      you can eat them,
      you can beat them,
      you can weigh them,
      you can flay them,
      you can crush them,
      you can slush them!

      So you see, my friend, that slaves are plenty useful!

      You can turn them,
      you can burn them,
      you can hide them,
      you can ride them,
      you can mind them
      you can bind them,
      you can grind them,
      you can't find them!

      Aye indeed, the slaves are plenty useful!

      - Chaos Dwarf children song
    • Hobgoblin Songs


      Greenskin speech and language are crude, as are their legends and music. Their songs are usually as much an affair of screaming, grimaces, spitting, motions, stomping and violence as they are words, rythm and accompanying music. This is especially true for Orcs, whose stanzas around the campfires are not much different from their warcries. The short, thuggish songs of Orcs reflects their brute and thick nature, whilst Goblin songs are full of spite and malice, just as Goblins themselves are.


      Both Orc and Goblin songs are simple and boastful, though Goblins and their Gnoblar cousins might boast mostly of cunning and torture whereas Orcs prefer to laud fell deeds of raw strength. Hobgoblin songs are, on the other hand, often longer, more coherent and more advanced than the verses of other Greenskins.


      Hobgoblins are arguably the most intelligent of the Greenskin races, as is evident in their clothing, saddles, tools, armour and weaponry, all of which are more carefully crafted than the works of Orcs, Goblins, Gnoblars and Snotlings. In Hobgoblins, relatively high intelligence corresponds directly with an extremely murderous, cunning and treacherous nature. This is to be expected from Greenskins, for whom brutality and selfishness is at the core of their essence.


      To some extent, the souls of Hobgoblins may be gleaned from their songs (if they had souls). More sophisticated than their Orc and Goblin counterparts, these songs are part of an oral tradition in which the Dark Lands Hobgoblins' origins on the Eastern Steppes has not been forgotten, akin to the steppe title Khan which is still very much in use.


      These songs are also a reflection of the Hobgoblins' precarious middleman position as the elite slave cast of the Chaos Dwarf empire. They are the taskmasters and slave soldiers for whom service to the Dawi Zharr was a better option than wild free-for-all Greenskin freedom in the Dark Lands.


      This was a devil's bargain, for once struck it may never be broken if the Hobgoblins are to survive in the Dark Lands. So hated have they become amongst the other Greenskins for their acts of treachery and servitude to Zharr-Naggrund that if the Chaos Dwarfs were to fall, or if the Hobgoblins were to strike out on their own, they would be hunted down and slaughtered en masse by vengeful Orcs and Goblins. Hobgoblins are already killed on sight by their free Greenskin cousins.


      Thus it is that the Hobgoblins of the Dark Lands thrive under the Dawi Zharr's dominion, ever fearful of their ruthless masters and the hateful Greenskin hordes that roam these harsh landscapes. They are expendable cannon fodder, subject to the cruel whims of their overlords, and repeatedly suffer cullings of Khans and even tribes who become too powerful for their own good. Their songs are verbal witnesses of this reality in which they live as the detested henchmen of the Chaos Dwarfs.


      Yet above all they are stanzas of paranoia and malice, of plotting and cunning, of treachery and assassination, of bloodshed and pillaging. They are just like the Hobgoblins themselves: Cruel, murderous and insidous to the core.


      These are the songs of the Slaves to Damnation.
    • Dere Iz Eight Wayz Ta Stick An Orc

      Dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      and 'ere iz numbah one.

      Nick a spade an' dig a pit,
      give dat pit a pointy stick,
      shove an orc into da pit,
      an' then dere's seven more.

      Dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      and 'ere iz numbah two.

      Nick a bow an' sneaky spot,
      bait wiv korpsez dat'z still hot,
      wait fer orc an' get 'im shot,
      an' then dere is six more.

      Dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      and 'ere iz numbah three.

      Nick a chucka wiv a spear,
      stick da orcses dat appear,
      at barbeque you eat da ear,
      an' then dere is five more.

      Dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      and 'ere iz numbah four.

      Nick a pole an' dig a hole,
      bait wiv ratses and ol' sole,
      zee boar throw orc on da pole,
      an' then dere is four more.

      Dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      and 'ere iz numbah five.

      Nick a blade an' hide in loo,
      when da orc make numbah two,
      get dat blade an' drive 'im through,
      an' then dere is three more.

      Dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      and 'ere iz numbah six.

      Nick his choppa in da night,
      orc get smashy, start a fight,
      stick 'im in 'is back alright,
      an' then dere's two more.

      Dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      and 'ere iz numbah seven.

      Nick a spear an' wolfy dog,
      'unt orc right down inna bog,
      stick 'im kornered like a hog,
      an' then dere's one more.

      Dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      stick an orc,
      dere iz eight wayz ta stick an orc,
      and 'ere iz numbah eight.

      Nick a knife an' hide in hay,
      when boy look da uvver way,
      stick 'im hard an' startta flay,
      an' then dere iz eight more!

      - Hobgoblin camp song
    • Slice An' Dice

      Slice an' dice,
      an' burn da rice,
      nick a knife,
      an' take a life.

      We go south ta humie scum,
      sound da bloody drum!

      Stick an' stab,
      an' gut da crab,
      pick a scab,
      an' bounty nab.

      We'll get past da big-big wall,
      burn every damn hall!

      Shoot an' hoot,
      an' get da loot,
      kick a boot,
      an' bettah scoot.

      We outrun da armies' smell,
      gettout fast as hell!

      - Hobgoblin marching song, originally from the Eastern Steppes
    • Written by: KNC
      Illustrated by: @forgefire



      Watch Yer Back For Sneaky Gitz

      Watch yer back for sneaky gitz,
      nasty skulkerz,
      boys wiv witz,
      watch yer back for sneaky gitz,
      be da first dat hitz.

      Trust 'em not ta spare ya life,
      alwayz have a handy knife,
      cut da throats of man an' wife,
      an' watch out for cunnin' strife.

      Watch yer back for sneaky gitz,
      nasty skulkerz,
      boys wiv witz,
      watch yer back for sneaky gitz,
      be da first dat hitz.

      Draw ya knives at any slight,
      always keep da boyz in sight,
      cut 'im down ta start a fight,
      an' watch out for smallest mite.

      Watch yer back for sneaky gitz,
      nasty skulkerz,
      boys wiv witz,
      watch yer back for sneaky gitz,
      be da first dat hitz.

      If da boss Khan'z aimin' high,
      alwayz to da bugger lie,
      hide yer knives real clever-sly,
      an' watch out or else ya die.

      Watch yer back for sneaky gitz,
      nasty skulkerz,
      boys wiv witz,
      watch yer back for sneaky gitz,
      be da first dat hitz!

      - Hobgoblin song
    • Big 'at Tells Ya

      Big 'at tells ya ta get fings done,
      whip an' crack,
      slash an' hack!
      See dat dere, first fings one,
      slave on zoil,
      make 'im toil!

      Big 'at tells ya ta finish it too,
      whip an' crack,
      slash an' hack!
      Lazy git, strangle 'im bloo,
      slave on zoil,
      make 'im toil!

      Big 'at tells ya ta punish 'ard,
      whip an' crack,
      slash an' hack!
      Knife on flesh, cut off lard,
      slave on zoil,
      make 'im toil!

      Big 'at tells ya ta feed da slaves,
      whip an' crack,
      slash an' hack!
      Keepah grub, dey soon in graves,
      slave on zoil,
      make 'im toil!

      Big 'at tells ya da corpses iz trash,
      whip an' crack,
      slash an' hack!
      Chuck in furnace, burn ta ash,
      slave on zoil,
      make 'im toil!

      Big 'at tells ya ta cook 'iz food,
      whip an' crack,
      slash an' hack!
      Zeek an' find, undah hood,
      slave on zoil,
      make 'im boil!

      - Hobgoblin camp song
    • Written by: KNC
      Illustrated by: Raul Gomes @knightinflames



      Da Luckee Stabba-Git

      De-de-de-dere waz a git who waz a Khan,
      once knifin' dead sum damn orphan!
      Da git went wild wiv stabba-spear,
      an' guttin' anee who came near!
      Sparin' only woolfie boy,
      fer stabbin' waz 'is joy!

      Stabba-git he got ta ride alone,
      'cos mates of his dey all went gone!
      No wanta 'im near back or neck,
      ya alweyz had ta double-check!
      Make sure he didna lurk behind,
      got stabbed if ya were blind!

      De-de-de-dere waz a git who waz a Khan,
      once knifin' dead sum damn orphan!
      Da git went wild wiv stabba-spear,
      an' guttin' anee who came near!
      Sparin' only woolfie boy,
      fer stabbin' waz 'is joy!

      Stabba-git he got ta face a foe,
      who didna die fer stick or bow!
      Da big hat carped fer 'em ta charge,
      sum deemon 'eavy as a barge!
      An' just not un but too an' three,
      da uvver gitz dey glared wiv glee!

      De-de-de-dere waz a git who waz a Khan,
      once knifin' dead sum damn orphan!
      Da git went wild wiv stabba-spear,
      an' guttin' anee who came near!
      Sparin' only woolfie boy,
      fer stabbin' waz 'is joy!

      Stabba-git he got ta lookit up,
      as anuvver Khan lost his hickup!
      Stabbin' inta bloodee deemon hull,
      Khan got handed back 'iz skull!
      Da deemons' eyes dey did all burn,
      an' it's stabba-git's turn!

      De-de-de-dere waz a git who waz a Khan,
      once knifin' dead sum damn orphan!
      Da git went wild wiv stabba-spear,
      an' guttin' anee who came near!
      Sparin' only woolfie boy,
      fer stabbin' waz 'is joy!

      Stabba-git he got ta madly ride,
      deemon choppas swingin' wide!
      Cacklin' like sum mad git-goon,
      got a stab an' not a spoon!
      Yet he waz still sum luckee git,
      at deemon he did spit!

      De-de-de-dere waz a git who waz a Khan,
      once knifin' dead sum damn orphan!
      Da git went wild wiv stabba-spear,
      an' guttin' anee who came near!
      Sparin' only woolfie boy,
      fer stabbin' waz 'is joy!

      Stabba-git he got ta bloodee fight,
      stabbin' deemon in 'iz sight!
      An' woolfie boy jumped rabid mad,
      bitin' frough dat armour-clad!
      Da deemons beaten all ran home,
      droolin' blood an' foam!

      De-de-de-dere waz a git who waz a Khan,
      once knifin' dead sum damn orphan!
      Da git went wild wiv stabba-spear,
      an' guttin' anee who came near!
      Sparin' only woolfie boy,
      fer stabbin' waz 'is joy!

      Stabba-git he got ta boss it out,
      stabbin' anee who did shout!
      Waz livin' like sum big hat god,
      frowin' gitses in da mud!
      Growin' fat an' warty scabbed,
      until he got stabbed!

      - Hobgoblin song

      The post was edited 1 time, last by Karak Norn Clansman ().