Song of the Seamstress

When my Laurel was elevated to Pelican, I was involved in the Gotcha! of it. I also wrote her an Elizabethan sonnet, which is a contemporary form of writing for both my and her personae. In it, you'll find slant-rhyme, which offends me on a fundamental level, but it perfectly period. The opening line is lifted directly from Shakespeare's sonnet 128. The rest is my original composition.

How oft hath thou, my music, music play'st?
How oft my back in finest garment cloth'd?
With word and deed, thy faithful heart doth say'st,
As in heart's blood, your service it hath glow'd.
Green is the belt you granted me to wear,
As 'neath your wings you sheltered me and taught.
And greener, still, the envy all those bear
Who stand beyond the ring your service wrought.
Such joy I feel to be here on this day,
To sit in witness as you gain your due.
No greater joy be found in fields of May,
To know that all have seen the truth of you.
Since pelicans give freely of their blood,
As you have oft giv'n freely of thy love.

Other Scroll

I also wrote a scroll for my Apprentice-Sister Elinor Strangewayes, who was elevated at Birka. The text draws inspiration from fragments recovered from Brittano-Roman documents.

From Their Oriental Majesties, Kenric II Rex & Avelina Regina

Since the eyes of all the World does fall upon Us on this day have we gladly seized the opportunity to call upon Elinor Strangewayes. Unto Us do we also summon you who are of the Laurel, Artists and Scientists all, as well as this woman whom it is Our fervent wish to have join with you.

The skill Elinor has shown through her works and deeds declare her deserving of this high and noble office, and in recognition of this have we ordered made trappings suitable for one to attain such status.

Thus, it is by Our hand on this, the Feast Day of St Paul, on the 25th day of the Month of Janus, Anno Societatis XLVIII that we do invest Elinor Strangewayes into the Order of the Laurel, bestowing upon her Arms by theses Letters Patent -- Vert, a bee volant and on a chief embattled Or, an acorn between two oak leaves fesswise, stems to centre, vert.

Backlog Scroll

So my friend received his Laurel in September 2013, and I had the honour to be able to write the scroll text for the award. The text is inspired by the Exurge Domine Bull of Pope Leo X, issued June 15, 1520. It seemed eminently suitable to have the words of a Medici pope influence the writ given to a Bardici Bishop. Text below.

Arise, Great King, and judge this petition just. Remember the works of the one who stands before you and fills the halls through all the day. When you ascent above to your seat, committed to the care, rule, and administration of your realm, an image of the triumphant hall, as created by the man before you, may fill your gaze, and that of your successors.

Rise, also, Great Queen, and fulfill in this petition, the roll divinely entrusted to you. Give heed to the call of those who have seen the wonders wrought by this man's hands, the beauty and splendor of his metallurgical marvels, the glory of his chapel, and the power of his works. Against the beauty and skill of his works, none on this earth could speak ill.

We beseech you, also, Brothers and Sisters of the Laurel, to arise. It is through your works that we are enlightened and illuminated, by your hand that we are guided, and by your words that we are taught. For now a new Brother rises who, as you did, has aspired by word and deed to bring perfection to his craft, and betterment into the lives of those around him.

Before you, today, stands D'Unstable Peregrinator -- scholar, wanderer, jeweler, metalworker, patron of the arts -- a man who all can look to for inspiration. His drive to perfect his craft, his willingness to lend of his talents, time, and knowledge, and his continued commitment to the betterment of all around him means that there is no person more deserving of the elevation to join the noble ranks of the Laurelate.

It is, therefore, by the hand of Gregor von Heisler, Defender of the East, and King by Divine Right, and Kiena Stewart, Queen of the Tyger and Mistress of Horses, that we, by Grace of God, elevate D'Unstable Peregrinator to Companion of the Order of the Laurel.

Let all this land arise, and with those assembled today, and rejoice, for on this Feast Day of St. Conval the Confessor, the 28th Day of September, Anno Societatis IIXL, do we welcome Master D'Unstable Peregrinator into our hearts and our lives.

Reasons I need an adult.

I was reading on a forum about characters that were short-lived in RPGs. Someone posted this concept:

"I once got a DM to agree to let me make a Hill Giant character at level 1 on the condition that I wouldn't use his brute strength to my advantage. So I played a pacifist bard that carried around a piano, and would sit down in combat and play it for his allies. 
Unfortunately we never played past 1 session. I miss you, Hilly Joel."

So, I had to do this. To the tune of Piano Man, obviously.

"It's after dark on a Saturday, and the tavern begins to fill up.
There's an old man sitting next to me, drinking ale from a dragon-horn cup.
He says, 'Son, I once was an adventurer, 'till an orc arrow shattered my knee,
I was young, I was brave, every maid, I would save, there was no fighter better than me.


"Now, the Dwarf at the bar's a Barbarian, and has never yet paid for a drink.
And he's quick with his rage, so folk never engage, 'cause he'd kill you before you can blink.
But he says, "Hilly, I'd rather be killing ye," as he swings ‘round his mug like a mace,
"But yer music is grand, and I'm too drunk to stand, so I won't put my axe through your face."


"And, Paul is the page to a Paladin, who hates both his Lord and his job,
for he's young and he's bored, with a pen, not a sword, shining boots for that arrogant slob.
And the magus is practising Alchemy, while adventurers start their career...
A dark stranger, they meet, then they all take a seat, with no thought to what they're doing here."

The Northern Star & Songbook launch

Alright, so. I've started putting my songbook online, because I've been talking with the amazing and talented Aneleda Falconbridge, and she makes me want to do stuff. It's hard to rest on one's imagined laurels around someone so enthusiastic about things.

Plus, she gets it. Aneleda rocks pretty hard.

So I started putting them up here. It'll live in the links section, too.

The first piece I put up is an old-ish saw of mine. I wrote it from a Stan Rogers-ish sense of a desire to create a regional sense of unity. It's down below, here, complete with audio link. Enjoy.

The Northern Star -- Audio (.mp3)

Westward, we sail
Through the wind, sleet, and hail
From homeland and family,
We've journeyed so far,

And above our mainsail
Flies the banner we hail
It's the azure and white
Of the Boreal Star.

From the mountains and vales,
Over hills and through dales,
'Neath the argent and blue
Of our banner so bright

And may e'er more it fly
'Neath the cold Northern sky,
'Tis the star, Borealis,
That guides us to fight.

From Ar n-Eilean-ne's sight,
We have followed the Light
'Cross the ice-dotted ocean
To join in the war

To Ruantallan's fair shores,
Where we set down our oars
And we raised up the flag
Of the Boreal Star.


So, then onward, we stride
To the great river's side
In the glen of Lyndhaven,
Where we take rest, once more.

And with sword, shield, and lance,
Into La Belle Province,
We will march 'neath the sign
Of the Boreal Star.


South from Havre de Glace
Came their forces, en masse,
To the Isle of the Dragon
'Neath the night, black as tar,

And 'twas there we all joined
sword and shield, heart and mind,
'Neath the Azure and White
Of the Boreal Star.


To the south and the west
From the land we love best,
We shall wade into battle,
'Though we've journeyed so far.

And we'll earn us a place
With sword, shield, spear, and mace
For the flag of the free men,
The Boreal Star


And may e'er more it fly
'Neath the cold Northern sky,
It's the star, Borealis,
That will guide us to fight.

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