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Dwarf poems

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There once sat a dwarf on his bench

Hamering a sword for the gods

He would take it to a temple where the holy men were

For all who didnt do this where a fraud

The preist accepted this holy gift

And he gave it to the lords of the sky

From that day he was blessed with luck

And happily he lived until it was his time to die


In the mountains under the earth the dwarves dwelt

Swords spears and axes they did smelt

Weapons of war to atack the orcs they did hate

out Of the protecion of there caverns the made a great fortress with a great gate

Its name was nordcarn


Tarvan song


O his name was brarley he got in a brawl

In ye old tarvan the average small

The dwarf he faught pulled out a knife

and they got in a very tight fight

But ol brarley some how won

He pulled out a beer and had some fun

Drunk he was after the 35th meed

Then he buaght some more in endless greed

O old brarly died that day

For he over drank and began to sway

And the ol wiskey gods braught him to heaven

The others in the bar came also totaling seven

So if you ever drink 35 beer

You should know the end is near


Mining song


Under mountain hill and dale

lies a cavern as big as a whale

I lower my pick to the rock

It breaks apart and smells like a dirty sock

A bit of sulfur is all i find

I think il give that rock a peice of my mind

Edited by sirrobin

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Not short, just vertically succint :P


Us Dwarves ain't short,

We's just horizontal!

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