Tharragh walks into the first-aid station, peering around the wounded from the last weeks battle and sighs. His waery hearts begs him to go away. But as he looks outside he see his lovely Gryphon Sarah looking back, judging his every moveâŚ
So what could he do? Tharragh shakes his head, there is no way he could heal them all⌠Physically. He starts smiling, the earwide grin spread from his face into his boots and hands as he bursts into a crazy dance. He cheers the soldiers and warriors of the Stormhearts, Hammerguards and Firebeards on. The wounded and maymed starts to cheer him on instead and he reaches for his fiddle.â This be not a time fer sorruw. But a time fer laughter an´ pints!â He exclaims before his fingers hits the strings. His melody is playing a swift and chuckeling tune as he keeps dancing between the beds. âThose Dragonmaw got nothin´ oun us lads!â He laughs out before he starts singing a well known Dwarven workers song.
âFarewell to yer bricks and mortar, farewell to yer dirty lies.
Farewell to yer gangers and gang planks.
An´ to fel with yer overtime.
For the good ship Ragamuffin, sheâs lying at the quay.
For to take oul Tharg with a shovel on his back.
To the shores of Booty Bay.
Ayâm on me way down to the quay, where the ship at anchor lays.
To comman´ a gang of navvys, that they told me to engage.
Ay thought ayâd drop in for a drink before ay went away.
For to take a trip oun an emigrant ship to the shores of Booty Bay.
Farewell to yer bricks and mortar, farewell to yer dirty lies.
Farewell to yer gangers and gang planks.
An´ to fel with yer overtime.
For the good ship Ragamuffin, sheâs lying at the quay.
For to take oul Tharg with a shovel on his back.
To the shores of Booty Bay.â
âFarewell to yer bricks and mortar, farewell to yer dirty lies.
Farewell to yer gangers and gang planks.
An´ to fel with yer overtime.
For the good ship Ragamuffin, sheâs lying at the quay.
For to take oul Tharg with a shovel on his back.
To the shores of Booty Bay.
Ayâm on me way down to the quay, where the ship at anchor lays.
To comman´ a gang of navvys, that they told me to engage.
Ay thought ayâd drop in for a drink before ay went away.
For to take a trip oun an emigrant ship to the shores of Booty Bay.
Farewell to yer bricks and mortar, farewell to yer dirty lies.
Farewell to yer gangers and gang planks.
An´ to fel with yer overtime.
For the good ship Ragamuffin, sheâs lying at the quay.
For to take oul Tharg with a shovel on his back.
To the shores of Booty Bay.â
