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Author Topic: Urist McShakespeare  (Read 2440 times)

Patarak

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Re: Urist McShakespeare
« Reply #15 on: December 12, 2008, 07:33:54 am »

Too awesome to not continue.

Once sunk in a mountain dreary, I swing my pick both weak and weary
Over a mason who engraves upon the floor
While I mined, booze levels lacking, suddenly there came a churning
As of some great beast moving slowly, slowly beneath the cavern floor
'Tis my sobriety,' I muttered, 'churning my thoughts under the floor -
Only this and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was the close of last Timber,
And the leaves of dying autumn brought my steps to the front door
Of a fortress monumental. I'd heard stories, accidental,
From my fellows who'd returned, speaking tales they did deplore,
"'Tis a graveyard," they did mutter, "only stories we deplore;
Disaster there forevermore."



And the silken webbed rustling of the loinpants,
thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my pick, I stood repeating
"'Tis my sobriety entreating entrance at my mind's door -
Some sobriety entreating entrance on my mind's door -
This it is, and nothing more"


Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was sober, and so gently you came over,
And so faintly you came rapping, rapping at my fortress floor,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the hatch;
darkness there: a large mismatch.
« Last Edit: December 12, 2008, 07:36:54 am by Patarak »
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Neoskel

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  • Read or the owl will eat you.
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Re: Urist McShakespeare
« Reply #16 on: December 12, 2008, 07:40:33 am »

Urist went to swim at sunset,
To soak his beard in the wet,
He waded in up to his nose,
Then the sun set and he froze.
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Urist Mcsurvivalist has been accosted by edible vermin lately.

Goblins: The fourth iron ore.

Patarak

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Re: Urist McShakespeare
« Reply #17 on: December 12, 2008, 07:51:43 am »

Stark Nerdegel the Ogre Hunter

Met an ogre, tore it asunder.

Until he met it's aunts and neices

And O poor Stark was torn to pieces
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roguester

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Re: Urist McShakespeare
« Reply #18 on: December 12, 2008, 01:31:31 pm »

Too awesome to not continue.

Once sunk in a mountain dreary, I swing my pick both weak and weary
Over a mason who engraves upon the floor
While I mined, booze levels lacking, suddenly there came a churning
As of some great beast moving slowly, slowly beneath the cavern floor
'Tis my sobriety,' I muttered, 'churning my thoughts under the floor -
Only this and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was the close of last Timber,
And the leaves of dying autumn brought my steps to the front door
Of a fortress monumental. I'd heard stories, accidental,
From my fellows who'd returned, speaking tales they did deplore,
"'Tis a graveyard," they did mutter, "only stories we deplore;
Disaster there forevermore."



And the silken webbed rustling of the loinpants,
thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my pick, I stood repeating
"'Tis my sobriety entreating entrance at my mind's door -
Some sobriety entreating entrance on my mind's door -
This it is, and nothing more"


Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was sober, and so gently you came over,
And so faintly you came rapping, rapping at my fortress floor,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the hatch;
darkness there: a large mismatch.

Deep into the chasm peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
thirsting, thirsting for the beer that we'd run out of long before.
But the blackness was unbroken and the deepness gave no token,
and the only words there spoken were the whispered words "No more".
This I whispered and the chasm whispered back the words "no more"
Only this, and nothing more
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roguester

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Re: Urist McShakespeare
« Reply #19 on: December 12, 2008, 08:04:08 pm »

Can't stop there  :-[

Back into the fortress turning, past a stack of socks still burning
From the raid that sixteen days ago broke hard upon the doors.
"Surely," said I, "surely there is something deep down underneath us,
grab a pick then and let's greet it as our fathers did of yore"
"Grab a beer and grab a shovel, strike the earth beneath this floor."
Said the Captain, "There's no more."
« Last Edit: December 12, 2008, 08:30:34 pm by roguester »
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Patarak

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Re: Urist McShakespeare
« Reply #20 on: December 13, 2008, 12:20:30 am »

Upon this note I struck the nutter, and in pain he quickly spluttered
"Fool! It's attracted by and feasts on many varieties of dwarfish gore!"
Unconsiousness became he, no longer did he steer me
Against that alchoholic promise; it grew and whispered louder
Of alchoholic chowder, as his blood seeped out upon the floor
I remembered our vital pile was regretfully No More
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