Sir Browen-tavern song
Sir Browen! Sir Browen!
With his faith you cannot win!
Upon Loial with a thunderous sound!
He'll run you down.
-music-
Sir Browen! Sir Browen!
Under his voice and under his command,
The land united and led the charge.
We followed him and he brought us back, back from
the city of Damn.
-music-
Sir Browen! Sir Browen!
Your true song can ne'er be told!
Your Honor high and your courage we hold!
Sir Browen, Sir Browen the BOLD!
-music-
Sir Browen, Sir Browen the Bold.
His Honor is high and courage untold.
He fights with strength, skill and mind,
Scrum with him...and you'll fall behind.
His victories go on, I'm not talking small.
Many leaders and tyrants have fallen to him.
Tournaments and melees he's won. Battles and Wars to his victory.
Sir Browen's true achievements are to the King and Hall.
Humbly, convincing dukes, lords, Kings and queens
To his cause, his laws, fo rthe greater good of Paladine.
"Paladine's arm" and "The Fellowship's way" are some of his names.
His faith is strong, bright and with a gleam.
This world, the voice and arm of Paladine came.
As was propheisized, as was said, he united the land.
Under one banner, one leader, URSA fought the same.
After The War, evil fell. Burried in the dust, ash and sand.
Sir Browen, Sir Browen the Bold.
His honor is high and courage untold.
Do you really want to fight him? Challenge him to the dance?
Upon Loial, he never lost, you'll end up upon his lance.
From 300 yards, death can touch you.
Only silence is herd as the arrow rips at yoru heart.
You might have hope, maybe a prayer,
If you keep running away...you will live.
At 150 yards...now you're tempting fate.
Accident and chance have gone away.
You are playing with fire, chancing even luck.
Dodge left, duck right....don't stop! You're in his sights.
Charge him, get under his range!
That bow is dangerous, death from afar.
Now you're dead, biggest mistake of your life.
You've been sliced by Qualina and cut by Athinar.
Oh, he has trained to run and track in the trees,
Forest floors and even in the plain.
Comminunicatin with plants, animals and bees
High in the oak trees, none of which will bring him pain.
What he has done, you can not dream of, wish of
Or do; walking the path he left.
Sitting there, with patients which rival the sloth
And tiger, a volley of wooden missiles in your chest,
As you die, is your only clue.
Traveling the planes to the Abyss, The Cage, Outalnds and Ysgard,
Hordes of evil he fought, he killed all...all he slew.
URSA he came and URSA he saved; hold him in the highest regard.
Trained to find, taught to kill and watched by the gods:
Elven of course, Norse and even Tir-Na-Og.
With the ring of anvil and the crunch of stone...
The hammer smashes and the axe cuts the bone.
From the north they came, creatures from hell.
They couldn't beat us with magic, weapon or tooth and nail!
We charged from the left and smashed from the right.
"MORADIN!" we shouted , "CLADDIGEN!" our cry. We took to the fight.
Hammers on the right and axes on the left with javelins high in the sky,
Tonight we drink in the mountain high!
With pitchures raised up, we cross the hammer and axe,
WE WON THE WAR! Dwarves of ThoroJax!
"How tall are you?"...you know you're dead.
When he sizes you up, go make your bed.
"I'm shorter, you're the best!"...'Tis not matter what you said.
IlL'ese're is a comin, comin to butt your head!
-music-
Compliment his horns, "Those are grand for a Bariaur!"
Ask him about his travels, "Hey, what's that scar?"
Cuss' 'em, insult 'em, and fight 'em...HELL! Hit him with a Bar!
But PLEASE, whatever you do, don't call him a centaur!
-music-
If you see him chargin' over the Ysgard mountains,
You better run or you're blood will flow like a fountain.
No matter what you wear, that plate armor will break like tin!
An 800pound Bariaur with an iron spear...you, he will slain!
-music-
He can be laughing and drinking but will stop at the sight of it.
2 miles, 3 miles a league or more...he'll rush in and fight it!
Bow, Spear, Family Club...he'll even bite it!
When that gleam gets in his eyes, ears go flat, and sets that rear hoof...
YOU KNOW IT'S A GIANT!!
-music, trills faster-
If beauty could kill then the sight of her would be death.
It is said that Que'llar's mind is as strong as IlL'ese're's charge.
Don't try to flirt, or slap her rump...
If Talemorin doesn't get you, she'll take your last breath.
When those green eyes flash to fiery red,
Now you wonder, how will it end?
A dagger, or the whip, she can do it with a spell or a thought.
The way doesn't matter. 'Cause you will be dead.