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The Castle
•  Great Hall
•  Feast Hall
•  The Solar
•  The Treasury
•  The Library
•  Rowdy Rottweiler Tavern
•  Sands of the Sahara
•  Seek the Oracle's Wisdom
•  The Ghetto
•  Cordwainer
Sands of the Sahara Dance Hall
As you enter the dance hall you are welcomed by singing and the sounds of feet dancing to the musicians that are located in loft overlooking the main room of the hall.  Bar maids move through the crowds pouring ale and wine, people sway back and forth singing bawdy songs and you find yourself drawn in...

songbooke.gif (8813 bytes)You wander toward the bar, and ask the bartender...who looks like the gravedigger Seamus ... what are the pamphlets some of the patrons appear to be singing from? "The Vanished Wood Songbooke" he replies in his thick Irish accent, as he bends down under the bar and hands you a yellowed copy.  "Aye both Gwendolyn and Lady Katherine are in yonder corner...singing their songs from this very booke" as he points over to two ladies, one in a nun's habit and the other playing a great harp.  You wonder out loud, what is a nun doing in this place? And in gods name, what is she doing singing bawdy songs?  "New to Vanished Wood aren't ya?", winks Seamus...

Official Vanished Wood Drinking Regiment Anthem
By the Bard Katherine von Schlosserwald
Vanished Wood, we are able
To drink everyone under the table,
Beer for beer 'til they're unstable,
Falling on the ground.

Twist off cap or pop top,
Viking foe or French fop,
With mug on high and glassy eye
We'll drink until the last drop.

Onward 'tis, our regiment needs us
He is drunkest, he who leads us.
Beer for beer, no one exceeds us
Ale, beer and mead'


Brewers Guild Anthem
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
Ale and beer, whiskey and beer:
That is what brings us here.
Almond brandy and blackberry wine
Make us feel exceedingly fine.
Roll those barrels out here
Ale and whiskey and beer.

Ale and beer, whiskey and beer:
Raise your glass, give a cheer
Don't drink water if you can drink mead.
'Never Sober' is our solem creed.
We're all sots without peer from
Ale and whiskey and beer!


I Want a New Sword
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
I want a new sword--
One that goes where it should.
One that hits my opponent's head,
One that won't make him feel too good.
I want a new sword,
Want the best on the field
That'll take my opponent's leg,
One that won't hit his gol-darned shield.
One I can depend on,
That won't let me down,
One to bring me vict'ry
Next time I fight in Crown...
For that golden crown.

I want a new shield,
One that won't leave me dead.
One that covers me from my knees
To the top of my steel-clad head.
I want a new shield,
One with style and flair
That'll fake my opponent out
And leave his blade swishing air.
Target, round or heater,
Painted dark or bright,
All I want from my shield
Is that I win the fight...
And you know I might.

I want a new helm
Made of hard bright steel.
One that won't get hit so much,
That'll make my ambitions real.
I want a new helm,
One that's padded well,
That'll make even kills feel light,
So my ears won't ring like bells.
One that's not too heavy,
One that's not too thin.
I One that won't get tape marks
I And that'll help me win...
I In the list again...
When I fight again.


By the Bard Katherine von Schlosserwald
We don't need no Eastern fighter.
We don't need Tuchux at all.
Don't park your tent too near the bathroom
You won't get no sleep at all.

All in all, you're just another shield in the Wall.

And, for those who wish to add the verbal asides in the song:

Go on _ it's only money' Go on _ it's only money'
If you can't stand the heat, how can you maintain your footing?
How can you maintain your footing if you can't stand the heat?


Pennsic War
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
Eager fighters, Midrealm fighters
Getting ready for War.
In the air you can feel their excitement.
Taping broadswords, painting shields,
Fixing armor and more,
And at every shire's practice you hear...

Pennsic War, Pennsic War,
It's time to fight for the Midrealm.
Dragons soar, hear them roar,
Soon we shall taste victory.

In the forest, in the field
See the Eastrealmers fall
As the Dragon wings over the treetops.
Happy subjects ' round the campfires
Toast the King in his hall,
And at every post revel you hear...

Pennsic War, Pennsic War,
Lord, how we fought for the Midrealm'
Dragons soar, hear them roar,
Tasting our sweet victory'


Song for Corwvn Dragonstar (or Suicide is Painless)
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
'Twas at the Midrealm Summer Crown
That word wont up and word went down
That Corwin Dragonstar would fight
I To win the throne with s kill and might.
The day progressed with grief and mirth,
As valiant knights all fell t o earth.
The quarter finals , they drew nigh,
And Corwin staged his mighty try....

But suicide is painless,
It brings on many changes
And makes some entertainment for the mob

Brave Corwin turned to face his foe--
The gallant Tonk A'Toi--and so
They both did honor--took their stand-
The marshals moved--the bout began,
Then Corwin moved with speed and skill,
Determined t o achieve his will .
He snapped a shot to poor Tonk's head,
But Corwin killed himself instead....

For suicide is painless,
And Corwin must stay reignless.
be guess he didn't really want the job


By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
Cold is the air on my half-armored body,
Cold as the dew on the blade of my sword.
Savage my curses for they who would slay me,
Foes without honor who march on my lord.

Crouched i n the darkness, I wait to do battle,
Shield held before me and sword in my hand.
Baptized in blood, 'tis far more than mere metal.
Carnage the tongue that its edge understands.

My wife I did kiss, left my children beside her.
A calf I did kill to the stern gods of war.
I chanted the sagas in praise of their valor,
Singing the glory of those gone before.

Off to the east strike the first rays of dawning,
Sparking the war cries that ring o'er the land.
Now shall I fight for my honor this morning
And pray that I die with my sword in my hand!


The Lad from Aberdeen
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
Come, ladies all, a tale I'll tell
About a lad I loved full well,
The fairest swain I e'er have seen--
The peddler's lad from Aberdeen.

I stepped out upon the Foregate on a sunny summer's day,
And I first espied his flaxen hair, as bright as newmown hay.
The sparkle in his sky-blue eyes would make a peacock preen:
'Twas there 1 lost my maiden's heart to the lad from Aberdeen.

I stepped right smart to meet him then across the market square.
He smiled and winked an eye at me while setting up his wares.
Gold lace I bought, and silver thread, and ribbons red and green
As I melted in the tender gaze of the lad from Aberdeen.

He slipped his arm around my waist, he whispered low and sweet,
Then he sold me shoes of China cloth to set upon my feet.
He spoke of love and passion's fire, and called me his colleen--
And he tempted me with tartan wool that came from Aberdeen.

He swore to me my winsome face had stolen his poor heart
While he showed to me the, wondrous things he carried in his cart,
And he said that when his wares were gone, his profits he did glean,
We both would tread the winding road that leads to Aberdeen.

My purse is gone, my money's spent.
Fair maids, beware! For with it went
That swain of sweet and handsome mien--
That peddler's lad from Aberdeen.


I Am the Wind
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
As I walked out along the seashore
In the springtime of the year
I saw a lover and his lady
Trysting by an old stone pier.
He clasped her hands unto his bosom
As they stood beside t h a t quay.
Softly, softly did they murmur:
Then I heard the young man say...

I am the wind to fill your sails
And steer you o'er the storm-dark sea.
I am your shelter from the gale,
Pray, sweetheart, pledge your troth to me.

"You are my own true love," he told her,
"And my bonny wife you'll be.
We would speak our vows this morning,
Were there peace upon the sea.
But I am inKing Henry's navy,
And aboard h i s ship I'll go
For to fight the wicked Frenchman
Till the trees are clothed in snow."

I am the wind to fill your sails
And steer you o'er the storm-dark sea.
I am your shelter from the gale,
Pray, sweetheart, pledge your troth to me.

'Twas a dark day in October
When my lord did chance to learn
Our king's ship was lost in battle
And its crew did not return.
None have seen that handsome sailor,
For he's dead and drowned at sea.
But the salty air each springtime
Brings his whispered words to me.

I am the wind to fill your sails
And steer you o'er the storm-dark sea.
I am your shelter from the gale,
Pray, sweetheart, pledge your troth to me.


We Three Knights
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
We three knights of Orient are
Going to fight in Pennsic War.
We'll get beaten-
But we'll sweeten
Defeat at the nearest bar

Oooh, oooh. ..
Yes? the Eastern Kingdom would
Beat the Midrealm if it could.
But our pains
Are all in vain-
Their fighters all are too damned good.

The Vikings
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
Here we come,
Right down the street,
Getting terrified looks from
Everyone we meet...

Hey, hey, we're the Vikings'
We just go viking around.
'Cause we're too busy slaying
To put our axes down.

We're just trying to get wealthy,
So don't you stand in our way'
And if you refuse us Danegeld,
You'll still be the ones to pay.

Hey, hey, we're the Vikings'
We burn cities down to the ground'
So you'd better get ready,
'Cause we're coming to your town.


Hard-Hit Knight
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
I've been a hard-hit knight,
Cause I've been losing half the day.
And now I hurt so bad --
Those aches and pains won't go away.
But now the feasting is near,
When all the mead and the beer
Will make me feel allright.

You know I work all week 1
And die of boredom Every day.
So whrn events I seek
I want t o beat and slash and slay.
And! thfn if I see the chance
I To find some courtly romance
You know I feel okay.

There she goes --
The lady for whom I want to fight.
And who knows --
Maybe we'll troika tonight!
I Allright! Yeah:


Another Viking Christmas Carol
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
Fire the hall wityh flaming torches
fa, la, la , etc...
Pillage while it burns and scorches.
Take the gold and then the silver.
Show these Saxons how to pilfer.

See the people run in terror.
Show them that they're not in error.
Kill the men, enslave the maidens.
Thats the fun of Viking Raidings!


Raspberry Gorget
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
I was sitting at the list table, setting up byes.
I looked up, and what did I see
But a landsknecht fighter who bedazzled my eyes
'Cause he was dressed so peculiarly.

Chorus: He wore a raspberry gorget
With a green brigandine and a bright purple helm.
Raspberry gorget --
I think I loathe him.

He stepped over the list rope and into the field.
I saw the marshals and the heralds turn green.
'Cause the orange mermaid posed on his pink painted shield
Could only be described as obscene.

Well, the broadsword that he brandished made the marshals all steam,
'Cause his duct tape was Da Glo puce.
He charged his opponent with a swing and a scream,
But the first blow knocked his fillings loose.

Then the blows rained down on his body and head,
And he called every one of them light.
But when they dragged him off the field with his blood flowing red.
You could tell that he'd been in a fight.


Probably the 9,000th Pennsic War Song Ever Written
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
It's time again for Pennsic War,
To dust off five foot shields,
To watch Their Royal Majesties
Hold Court in barn and field.

Oh Pennsic War, yes, Pennsic War,
Your fame will never die,
As endless gifts and Ao
As force closed my sleep filled eyes.

It's time again for Pennsic War,
For camping in the rain,
When drips and drops from leaky tents
Tap out their damp refrain

Oh Pennsic War, yes, Pennsic War,
Your legend ever grows,
just like the mold and mildew spots
Upon my Tudor hose (fighting clothes) or (Roman nose)
It's time again for Pennsic War
This time we plan to win.
We'll slog through mud and up the hill and get our brain bashed in.

Pennsic War, yes, Pennsic War,
for victory we'll fight.
We'll slash and slay the day away
and party through the night.

It's time again for Pennsic War,
For good medieval fun,
To chase away mundanity
And keep it on the run.

Oh Pennsic War, yes, Pennsic War,
your siren call we hear.
forget the rain and mud and paib
We'll all be back next year


The Viking Christmas Carol
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
Here we come a'pillaging
Among the leaves so green.
Here we come a'robbing,
So bold to be seen.

Rape and fire come to You,
And to all your country too.
And we'll send you some Vikings
And a horde of Huns this year-
And we'll send you a horde of
Huns this year.

We are not small-time raiders-
We sack from shore to shore:
And we have rabblerousers
Whom you have seen before....

Rape and fire come to You,
And to all your country too.
And we'll send you some Vikings
And a horde of Huns this year-
And we'll send you a horde of
Huns this year.


Warrier's Wife
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
My husband is a fighter,
And therein lies my grief.
From all these wars and tourneys
I cannot get relief.
My chores stretch on unending,
My work is never done.
A warrior's wife, I get the strife
While he has all the fun.

Some evenings I'm a seamstress
To clothe my warrior lord.
Or else I help make armor,
Or help him tape a sword.
The way he runs through fighting shirts
And gambesons and pants,
I moan and swear with each new tear
And mend at every chance.

And when we're at the tourney
It takes a masochist
To get my lord in armor
And ready for the list.
His leg gear must be buckled,
His brigandine pulled down.
Soon extra snaps and broken straps
Lie scattered all around.

Then, when the fighting's over,
Or if he haps to lose,
I peel his armor off again
To nurse each fledgling bruise.
And while I work he's telling
An endless litany
Of pains and aches and dumb mistakes--
It's all too much for me!

Sometimes when he gets restless
We try a drill or three.
I don his helm and armor
And let him swing at me.
Our ceilings are too low for this,
And so we use the yard.
Our neighbors think our marriage stinks
Because he hits so hard.

For years we have been married
And, though it's hard to cope,
I go to each new tourney
Fresh-charged with fear and hope.
I fear he may be injured:
I hope that he will win.
And when it's done--I call it fun
And do it all again.


Hymn of the Gypsies
By the Bard Gwendolyn Merch Lewellyn
We get no kicks out of Court.
Kings, queens and nobles are just not our sort.
We gypsies don't like that much fuss.
But we get a kick out of us.

Guys who in white belts are dressed ...
We hate to say it, but we're not impressed.
Some gold chains just turn into rust.
So we got a kick out of us.

When gypsies party there's not a group in all the
realm to beat us.
We "Hit Our Mamas" with spiked-up punch
And always stock lots of Roditas

We plague the kingdom to death.
"The king's a fink!" rings on each gypsy's breath.
With those stuffed shirts we deal when we must.
But we get our kicks out of us.
Yes, we get our kicks out of us.


Woad of Harlech
By the Bard Unknown
What's the use of wearing braces,
Hats or spats or shoes with laces
Vest and pants you buy in places
Down on Broughampton Road?

What the use of shirts of cotton
Studs that always get forgotten
These affairs are simply rotten,
Better far is woad!

Woad's the suff to show men,
Woad to scare your foemen!
Boil it to a brilliant blue
And rub it on you legs and abdomen!

Ancient Britons never hit on
Anything as good as woad to fit on
Necks or knees or where you sit on,
Tailors, you'd be blowed!

Romans came across the Channel
All dressed up in tin and flannel
Half a pint of woad per man-o
Clothed us more than these!

Saxons, you may save your stitches
Building beds for bugs in britches.
We have woad to clothe us which is
Not a nest for fleas.

Romans, keep your armors,
Saxons, your pajamas!
Hairy coats were made for goats
Gorillas, yaks, retriever dogs and llamas!

March on, Snowdon, with your woad on
Never mind if you get rained or snowed on
Never need a button sewed on,
Good for us today!

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