A verse spreads

[The Dragon's Bastards]

Said to have first been heard in the Marsember Docks, this verse seems to pop up in Dockside taverns and inns:

There was a Red Wizard named Ackravel
Who left behind an acrid smell
When he Blew himself back to the Ninth Hell
Down Marsember Way

He had just learned to cast a fireball Spell
But couldn’t cast it very well
He hit a keg of smokepowder and well…
That’s all there is to say

His father was a wood elf wizard
Who did into Proskur venture
Clad in robes of crimson splendor
Way back in the day

When his mom saw the wood elf’s wand
She knew that he would be the one
With whom she would have a son
And Ackravel was made

[The Dragon's Bastards]

There was a dark cult of terrible cooks,
And you knew it with a single look
At any tripe they ever cooked
That’s all there is to say

They made the most dreadful mystery stew
But the meat pies were so gods-damned good
That I froze them for a pleasant chew
On some rainy day

They practiced on that bloody stew
And they had it tasting awfully good
Then it went and blew up the loo
What an evil spray

[The Dragon's Bastards]

These men of Zhentil Keep, These men of Zhentil Keep!
These men of Zhentil Keep, These men of Zhentil Keep!

They’re far from stayed after a raid
These men of Zhentil Keep!
They kill off all the women
For they much prefer the sheep!

These men of Zhentil Keep
These men of Zhentil Keep
Behind their fortress walls is
Where they conquer all the sheep!

These men don’t eat their ill-got-treats
Not one of thems a glutton
So isn’t it a marvel
That they always smell of mutton?

These men of Zhentil Keep
These men of Zhentil Keep
Where are their wives and children
To tend to all their sheep?

They sail the Moonsea Waters
Making war on the high seas
Taking their sheep with them for
The glory that each receives!

These men of Zhentil Keep
These men of Zhentil keep
Lets cut their bloody throats
In their bloody Zhentil sleep!

-Original verses 1 & 2 by Tzigone, the hero of the Battle of Akhlaur’s Swamp, addition chorus and verses written anonymously

[The Dragon's Bastards]

These cryptic verses begin to surface in Arabel, Marsember and Suzail

There was a Dark Cultist named Kirk
Who found himself out of work
After all the bards he irked
Down Marsember way…

He came from a distant desert land
Where his mother fell down and
He squirmed forth into the sand
Where she left him there to lay…

Kirk had a fetish for halflings
But couldn’t romance the damn-things
So he asked Brandobaris about a fling
And he heard the Trickster say:

The way to our hearts is alluring
It’s all about your cooking
So you best get out to looking
For a hin to test your tastes…

Kirk wasn’t very smart they say
And he misunderstood in a major way
The advice of the Trickster on that day
And the halflings were sautéed …

His love lies yet unrequited
Though several hin were spitted
Over orog fires till bones were pitted
And they ruined the *bleep*ing taste!

[The Dragon's Bastards]

The Epic of Failure continued...

Then beauty came into Kirk's life
He saw the lass he would make his wife
She shot him down and waved a knife
To his eternal shame...

That beauty's name was Copperhand
And Kirk just couldn't understand
Just why he seemed much less a man
When he walked away...

Tymora's Knife was clean and sharp
There was no pain when it came apart
Being shortened by an inch is hard
When an inch is all you claim...

[The Dragon's Bastards]

Way down under Proskur’s wells
Is where they hide the ones they sell
Down in cells in their own little hells
Until they’re little more than shells

Cell upon cell of slaves are kept
Tears upon tears upon tears are wept
Deep down dark in the ground except
The ones the wizards like the best

Those are kept in collars tight
Walked about to be a slight
For eyes that try to see the light
Subjected all to Thayan rights

Our “betters” are the diplomats
Who let them come and walk them past
The guards and cormytes very fast
To keep them safe from Harps and Shafts

In this distant foreign port
They are allowed to Ill cavort
As long as it’s on their own dirt
The crown will shrug and point to words

Some of us don’t read too well
And the diplomats can go to hell
Where they can buy the slaves for sale
Just like good Thayan clientel

The Thayans dogs chew human bones
Their wizards dressed in blood-dyed robes
Their power is not theirs to own
It’s a collared and forced conscript show

Their days are measured mark it down
Their bodies given to the ground
Cormyr just need turn it’s own
Eyes away from what Hoar would stone

Kill them all let bodies fall
While Harps are plucked and Foxes maul
While tainted blood drips from their maws
Let their Wizards hide in Thayan halls

Theirs is soon a welcome worn
One night they’ll wake to howling horns
Harps will play and Foxes roar
While Forest folk avenge their own

Then what will our betters say?
Will we trade freedom for slaves?
Will the dragon look away
Or still take the side of THAY?

Let’s find out just what they’ll do
Let’s wear our bloodstained coats anew
Put knives in backs and arrows through
The slavers that our betters knew

For those of you less inclined
To wield a knife during such times
Spend your coin on Cormyrs wine
Not the piss of Thayan vines

For those of you not strong at arms
Your lot is cast with all of ours
Don’t spend a copper on their wares
Make them beg for a coin to spare

Back at home things look alright
But no one really won that fight
The enclaves are alone at night
With Zulkirs watching Zulkir’s knives

The enclaves seek the safety here
Far away from war and fear
Make them go fight with their peers
Against the Tsaz Tams undead Zulkirs

The hasty blade will oft fall short
The first arrow must fly sure
Bide your time and sharpen swords
When big ships fight they’re overboard

When Allies fight across the sea
The time will come when they will be
Alone at night and far from thee
Who would help if hands were free

The truth is that they are afraid
That if we truly halt their trade
That they’ll be recalled to Thay
To fight instead of sending slaves

Make them leave by spending gold
Anywhere but Proskur hold
Leave table bare and Thays hearth cold
While their countrymen bleed out at home

Do this thing for Beldan’s sake
Don’t forget that the guilt was fake
If Roar or Gaunt with Thay does trade
That should be a mark of shame