Song of a Dwarven Bard

the dour witches douse their hair

in burgund’ wine of vine so sweet

in oaken casks of forest fair

feet brushed in earthen moss of peat

bewitching verse beyond the light

a fiendish curse upon their heads

sharp cackles rise and bring with fright

such horrid fancies rife with dread

in dead of night they come in force

to claim the blood of those who sought

to savage them and change the course

of damned men and women distraught

alas they tried but were dismayed

by the stalwart Witcher Galdric

by whose own hand that theirs was stayed

with strength of a raging auroch

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