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I'm playing an excessively friendly tiefling bard in Pathfinder. And one of the things she does is sing lullabies to the party to help them drift off to sleep in the wilderness. So here's a collection of fun-filled rhymes and alliterations to share with the kids!



*Cannibal Charlie the Camper Carver

*Emily the Curious Earwig

*Sammy Snips, the Spider What Sneaks in Your Shoes As You Sleep

*Seamstress Sally, Who Sews Shut Sleeper's Snoring Slits

*The parable of the Popping Gourmet Who Ate Troll
(We had a regenerating troll attack.)


*Old Dead Bailey the Hovering Hound's Head

Young Dog Bailey, Young Dog Bailey, runs and barks and jumps so gaily
Plays with the baker, plays with the tailor, plays with the sausage of the sausage maker
Angry maker, makes a treat - glass and nails and mixed up with meat
Young Dog Bailey, Young Dog Bailey, no more runs nor jumps so gaily
Sausage maker, stray-dog taker, takes him to corner of his sausage chamber
No more tail! No more paws, no more heart or legs or claws
Old Dead Bailey, Old Dead Bailey, just a head no legs or tail-y
Where is your body? Where did it go? Fly to the belly of the one who knows
Bite his neck and bite his chin, bite every part that belongs to him
Old Dead Bailey, Old Dead Bailey, opens every belly he chases daily
Looks in the baker, looks in the tailor, looks for his parts in every sausage-taker
Bites their necks and bites their chins, bites until he's whole again.



*Night Shrike the Snatcher Bird

Grandmother Night Shrike, winging on a black night
winging by the light of the moon
Gifts for her children, held in her claws tight
weaving up a nest for them soon
Do you like tinder? Do you like thread? Do you like things that the plants have shed?
No we hate tinder! No we hate thread! Bring us much softer things for our bed!

Grandmother Night Shrike, wants to weave her nest right
Asks of a lone maiden fair,
"What is the softest?" Answers vainly (not bright,)
"Nothing is so soft as my hair!
"Isn't it lovely? Isn't it a sight? Can you see it wave in moon's pale light?"
Yes it is lovely! Yes it's a sight! Yes it fits in the claws of a shrike!

Grandmother Night Shrike, winging on a red night
winging by the shrieks of a loon
Gifts for her children, held in her claws tight
weaving up a nest for them soon
Do you like hair? Do you like skin? Do you like the scalps of women and men?
Yes we like hair! Yes we like skin! Snatch them all off their heads for our den!



*Mister Morlien

In the alley, in the streets
Watching you through bedroom sheets
In the square, in the park
Fingers slide out of the dark
In the tunnels, do not play
Faster, children, run away!
In your dreams 'neath moonless skies
Morlien comes to take your eyes



*Empty Eddy the Skin-Sack Man

Run run children, fast as you can
Don't be caught by the Skin-Sack Man
Empty Eddie, that's his name
Empty eyes and empty frame
He wraps you in his skin so loose
And tightens 'round you like a noose
Inside you'll never feel alone
With dried-up old ones, you'll be home
You'll meet again family and friends
Next time Eddie feels empty again!



*Horrible Horin the Halfling Headtaker
(Horin is the party rogue. He has thusfar decapitated two tatzlwyrms and a giant boar, and preyed on countless bandits.)

O young scofflaw, why do you run?
Why do you hide from the face of the sun?
Don't you know that Horin is there
Waiting for you in the moonlight so fair

For in the dark when no one's there
secret eyes of halfling's stare
Hide your wyrms and hide your boars
Horin hides behind your door!

O young scofflaw, his size makes you laugh?
And do you say that his pony's a gaff?
Though shortened legs cause not much dread
you'll be the shorter without any head!

Of jagged iron cold as night
horrid shortblade slips from sight
By knife so sharp and knife so quick
Off your head pops, snickety-snick!

O young scofflaw, leaving so soon?
Why do you hide from the face of the moon?
Don't you know too late to run
By headtaker's blade you're already done!



*The parable of the Gambling Unicorn
(About our investigation into the cause of death of a random, hornless unicorn corpse in the woods - in which Kimber accuses Tei, the smelly rude wizard who asked us to find one.)

There was once a noble unicorn
who owned a gleaming pearl horn
But the only thing that he loved more
was poker chips and cards adorned
with jokers, aces, jacks and kings
to afford un-unicornly things
For even they find virtue damp
without the scattered drink and tramp!

And once there was a boorish mage
unwashed of skin but young of age
And the only thing that she desired
was magic strength of beasts acquired
She strolled near to the bar and claimed
"Play me just one dealer's game,
"I'll bet fortunes jealous kings would mourn!
"The only thing I ask? Your horn."

The beast first blanched and shook with fear
to risk that piece he held so dear
'Til visions filled his princely head:
narcotics, maidens, hotel beds
He answered, smirking like a shark
"I'll play your game - t'will be lark!"
For long adept, he had to win
so ordered for them both a gin

But vicious mage was cruel and wise
and "accidentally" splashed his eyes!
One second blind, he did not see
illusioned cards slip from her sleeve
His poor, pale horsey jaw went slack
when she played her hand: four kings, a jack
He begged her take his "other" horn
but off his head, his prize was shorn

In panic he tried more to bet
tumbling ever worse in debt
To pay, he chose ironic course
His profession now? A race track horse
But unicorns were made to prance
not be fleet of hoof in games of chance
So angry fairy mobsters led
him to this swamp, where he lies dead.

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Comments

trikotomy
Apr. 23rd, 2015 09:27 pm (UTC)
Fact: shrikes or "butcher birds" "are known for their habit of catching insects and small vertebrates and impaling their bodies on thorns, the spikes on barbed-wire fences or any available sharp point. This helps them to tear the flesh into smaller, more conveniently-sized fragments, and serves as a cache so that the shrike can return to the uneaten portions at a later time."

Mr. Morlien is an old straight-razor murderer boogeyman guy I used to run as a Changeling character. He did in fact have eyes but they were invisible, so he appeared to have empty sockets which were hidden behind a pair of glacier glasses. Victims' eyes were swallowed, becoming part of the Breathstealer, an inky black mass living in his stomach. He would expel the monster in combat - which would in turn expel all the eyes as individual monsters to attack or perform other party functions (such as healing allies' wounds... by filling them with their own hideous mass). Yeah. I bought up quite an impressive hive of hidden horribleness but combat was actually pretty rare so I don't think it even ever came up. :P

Unicorns must get a lot out of their "frontal" horn

"Rhyming is hard," is my explanation for writing that. :P Although Ursula has... implied differently. *cough*