A Viking/SW Christmas Carol:

[Dark Bjoern]

A Viking Christmas Carol:

 

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Hall

Not a creature was stirring, not warrior nor thrall.

And I in my armor, my shield and my helm

Was drunker than anyone else in the Realm.

 

I staggered upstairs and fell into bed

While four quarts of mead were ablaze in my head.

Then up from below came the sounds of a brawl

So I grabbed up my axe and ran down to the Hall.

 

I missed the last step and crashed down in a heap

Thinking, "Why can't those low-lifes downstairs go to sleep!"

When what to my wondering eyes should appear

But two brawny strangers, wielding hammer and spear.

 

I said to myself, "We'll soon have them beat!"

Then I noticed ten warriors laid out at their feet.

I gave out a yell and leapt into the fray...

I'll always regret my poor choice of that day.

 

For the one laid his hammer to the side of my nose

And up, up, up to the rafters I rose.

Then came a lone frightened voice from the floor,

"Those are no mortal warriors -- that's Odin and Thor!"

 

Then they looked at each other and they said, "Battle's done.

Now they know who we are, it no longer is fun."

Then Thor raised his hammer, and his elbow he bent,

And with a loud crash, through the ceiling they went.

 

I crawled through the Hall and flung open the door,

Not really sure that I'd seen them before.

The snow bathed in starlight, the moon like a glede,

I saw them ride off on an eight-legged steed.

 

And I heard them exclaim, 'ere they flew out of sight,

"TO HELA WITH CHRISTMAS, WE JUST LOVE A GOOD FIGHT!"

[Oldenhaller]

*appluads*

[Hfran Morkai]

Skol!!

 

A well thought out piece my feasting buddy!

 

*Slides an ale over*

 

Have something to wet your throat after an excellent rendition!

[Muller]

You mean, "Skål"? ;)

 

Most great carole I must say ^^,

[Hfran Morkai]

You mean, "Skål"? ;)

 

Most great carole I must say ^^,

 

Both appear to be acceptable :) However the way you spelt it was more appropriate. (Cannae be bothered with the accented letters) ;)

 

*Slides another ale over*

[Greyhunter77]

Excellent *hands over an ale* Really sums up our mentality ;)

[Jonny Wolf]

DB,

who knew you were a Skald?!?! Nice one. Cheers.

 

Merry Christmas, brothers (and sisters if you're out there).

 

Jonny W.

[Olgerth Istaarn]

That is quite awesome. Thanks.

[Night Runner]

Outstanding ;)

[Growler67]

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v457/tyggrr65/Gifs/cheers.gif

[Ullr Direfang]

LOL well done

the best part is that it is snowing here.

 

have an ale on me.

[Grey Mage]

Yeah, funny part is we just got our first good snow last night. Thanks, I needed a smile :D.

[Geirulfr Frostmoon]

lol the same could be said for whats going on in our parts. Though storming is more of the word I would have used for whats happening here.

 

Nevertheless very well done! -offers a nice fenrisian ale-

[Warhorse47]

Well done, Brother! Thank you!

[Hjaertrr]

Very good! This is getting bookmarked :D.

[commander alexander]

Haha, very good brother! Have another ale, for it is snowing out, and you look pale... :lol:

[Lord Howland Greywolf]

Have anouther ale on me

*Dark Bjoern nearly drowns in the amount of ale presented to him*

[Dark Bjoern]

Have anouther ale on me

*Dark Bjoern nearly drowns in the amount of ale presented to him*

Like mighty Haegr i can handle the amount of ale. :lol:

 

But, brothers, the small poem is not from me :P I´m only the one who stumbled somewhere else about it and thought i should share it with you. :D

[Hfran Morkai]

Still a perfect recital! You remembered well! :P

[Brother Emund]

As Odin and Thor walked into the night, they turned to each other and said, "Wow what a fight"

 

" Lets go back in and find some more, I'll break the lock and you kick the door"

 

"Perhaps we can find a man of steel, who will test our skills and not turn on his heel"

 

So they went back to the Hall and opened the door and both were met by a raucous roar

 

They had met the man of steel who did not run, not carrying a blade but a meltagun

 

The Gods turned confused, totally aghast, as they were lifted from their feet by a terrible blast

 

As their flesh burned away and their bones turned to dust, the Gods shook their heads in obvious disgust

 

“This is not how to fight, not an honourable way, we are Gods be-damned and will win the day. Who are you, you fool standing tall and erect?”

 

“A Space Marine you knob… the Emperor Protects”!!

[Dark Bjoern]

Brilliant, Brother.

[Bran Scalphunter]

Oooh, it's Wolfmass time! I oughta go find my version of the saga. It's somewhere in here, I'll get it!

 

*runs off to find his work*

 

Found it! ^_^

 

The Night before Wolfmass

 

‘Twas the night before Wolfmass when all through the Fang,

Not a creature was sober, not even a cyber-mouse;

The heads of the fallen were impaled up on pikes with care,

In hopes that St. Macharius soon would be there;

The Wolves were all heaped in drunken piles,

While visions of ale and roast boar danced in their heads;

And Ulrik in his Wolf Helm, and I in my Terminator armor,

Had just settled down for a long drinking bout,

When out on the landing pad there arouse such a clatter,

I sprang from the table to see what was the matter.

Away to the firing port I flew like a flash,

Tore open the ammo crate and loaded my bolter.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering auspex should appear,

But a miniature Land Raider, and eight tiny Land Speeders,

With a little old Lord Solar, so pious and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Mach.

More rapid than Drop Pods his engines they roared,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now Russ! Now, Ferrus! Now, Guilliman and Sanguinius!

On Corax! On Vulkan! On Dorn and Khan!

To the top of the Fang To the top of the wall

now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As xenos before the might Wolves break,

When they meet with a turret, mount to the sky,

So up to the mountain-top the Speeders they flew,

With the Raider full of Wargear and St. Macharius too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,

The roar and whine of each little turbine.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Macharius came with a bound.

He was dressed all in carapace armor, from his head to his foot.

And his armor all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of weapons he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a penitent opening his pack.

His eye—how they stared! His scars so valiant!

His medals were like ornaments, his helmet like an aquilla!

His droll little mouth was twisted in fear,

His pistol grasped in dread;

The stump of a lho stick he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a daemonic halo;

He had a pallid face and an awkward limp,

That slowed him down as he tried to run.

He was thin and lean, a terrified old man,

And I roared when I saw him, in spite of my awe;

A wink of Ulrik’s eye and a pull of my finger,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He screamed not a word, but went straight to the Warp,

And I filled all the ale kegs; then turned with a jerk,

And laying my finger to my lips,

And giving a nod, up the chimney I rose,

I sprang to his Raider, to his team I charged,

And away they fell like a drop pod,

But they heard me exclaim, ere they dropped out of sight,

 

“Be gone foul heretics, to the Warp with you!”