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Post by Galahad on Apr 18, 2012 14:26:27 GMT -5
DPS is Drunk
Tank facing boss at clothies
Mass Rez incoming
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Post by Galahad on Apr 19, 2012 13:41:32 GMT -5
A true orc can wield
With a dwarven zeal and rage
the two handed axe
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Post by Galahad on Apr 20, 2012 8:20:34 GMT -5
Flowers tend to fade
They flee from heat of battle
Hammers do not wilt
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Post by Galahad on Apr 23, 2012 10:06:03 GMT -5
Rising is the SUN
Banish away the darkness
Hammers, a new dawn
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Post by Galahad on Apr 24, 2012 8:48:07 GMT -5
Pras, Z and Salty
When our healers heed the call
Our foes tend to fail
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Post by Galahad on Apr 25, 2012 8:44:25 GMT -5
I am all alone
As my guildies like DK's
I blame the Merlinn
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Post by Galahad on Apr 26, 2012 8:48:07 GMT -5
(No Haiku today, something a little different and with apologies to Fogerty)
I see a dragon slowly rising.
I see the tank has lost his way.
I see earthquakes and lightnin'.
I see lots of heals today.
Don't go around tonight,
Damn mobs will take your life,
There's a dragon on the rise.
I hear hurricanes a blowing.
I know the end is coming soon.
I fear healers begin a runnin’.
Vent hears the voice of rage and ruin.
Don't go around tonight,
Damn mobs will take your life,
There's a dragon on the rise.
All right!
Hope DPS has it together.
Hope we’re all prepared to die.
Now we're lookin’ for a mass rezzer.
Dragon just poked me in the eye.
Don't go around tonight,
Damn mobs will take your life,
There's a dragon on the rise.
Don't go around tonight,
Damn mobs will take your life,
There's a dragon on the rise.
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Post by Galahad on Apr 27, 2012 9:05:25 GMT -5
Cowardly he ran
For this he was much maligned
Kin to someone new
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Post by Galahad on Apr 29, 2012 12:42:05 GMT -5
It is the same moon
That today is full and bright
Which wanes tomorrow
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Post by Galahad on Apr 30, 2012 8:47:28 GMT -5
( A little something by Pegg today and Zicha gets kudos for posting. By the way, if you're wondering what a Cornamuse is go here: www.music.iastate.edu/antiqua/cornamus.htmIn my opinion, I could see it as a Tauren instrument. Also it sounds like a Tauren instrument. Though the singing is a bit belfy) Zicha plays the cornamuse Every tenday down in Thunder Bluff And they brought me down to see her And asked me have you the stuff… To do a little number? So I sang with all my might. She said, “tell me are you a Tauren, Pegg?” I said, “Ma’am I am tonight.” Then I’m walking in Mulgore Walking with my feet takin’ it all in Walking in Mulgore And all these Tauren must be kin. |
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Post by Zicha on Apr 30, 2012 17:49:25 GMT -5
LOL love it! Now I have Walking in Memphis, stuck in my head.  |
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Post by Galahad on May 1, 2012 8:28:12 GMT -5
(So what makes Lionclaw tick? he asks himself rhetorically. He's a silent brooding hunter. What could I imagine is his tragic back story? Well I don't know, but in my mind, maybe it's something like this...)
THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And Lionclaw came riding—
Riding—riding—
Lionclaw came riding, up to the old inn-door.
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His tusks were both a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Grokus silently listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the hunter say—
'One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.'
(Anyways, I'm sure this will end well for the young orc and his bonny lass. I really have too much access to this site. - Gal)
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Post by Galahad on May 3, 2012 8:34:08 GMT -5
I'm doing much better now.
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Post by Galahad on May 4, 2012 12:14:12 GMT -5
No tank is a god
Two hundred and sixty five
Yet I can still die
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Post by Galahad on May 8, 2012 8:21:01 GMT -5
A perfect ally
No need to bandy the words
Silent is the troll
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