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The Disciple

de Ludmilla Von Friek

In a land of fire, in a world of stone
My grandfather Kadmus
Soon of Valkan
The root of the fire, the laugh of the tribe
He taught me how to live!
Drink, fight, dance, and laugh at the fire!

He drank the mead, he tore the flesh
Roaring wild, a life of excess
Steel in hand, the world was prey
Kadmus laughed the night away

This is what old Kadmus wants!
Mead and meat and women's dance!
This is what old Kadmus craves!
Pillage, plunder, none are saved!

He told me once, with laugh so wide
Of a halfling boxer by his side
At dawn they stole wyrm eggs of flame
Breakfast of kings! Their fearless claim

The mother roared, the cave was fire
They fled half-burnt, but full of desire!
With bellies full and beards all charred
They laughed and drank in the village yard!

This is what old Kadmus wants!
Eggs of wyrm and fire's dance!
This is what old Kadmus craves!
Eat, get burned, and laugh as slaves!

And though he drank, and though he burned
From Kadmus's rage the tribe still learned
To fight with joy, to die with cheer
To raise our horns and lose all fear

For a girl with a round little ass, even a wyrm turns into a coat!

Rage and honor, clash and thunder
With ritualistic hair and tattoos bold
Tribal life is fantastic!!
A girl with a round little ass
Is also fantastic!!

This is what old Kadmus wants!
Mead and war and savage chants!
This is what old Kadmus craves!
His fire still roars within our veins!

Hahahahahaha!
Grandfather, your blood is mine
And I will feast, and fight, and laugh
For the tribe, for the fire, for you!

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