Thifur, Prince Lapdog

  • [Several copies of the following song are placed around Old Town and the quieter corners of the Citadel and Arabel, North - One even makes its way onto the back wall of the dwarven embassy. The postings remain unsigned and should they be seen being placed the witness would only encounter a child with a small sum of gold in their pockets.]

    Thifur, o' brave Thifur!
    So bold and hairy a lapdog, one has never seen.
    When Master Hardcastle shouts your name his arse is always clean.
    But when you must see right from wrong, any honour’s always swallowed.
    Your moral code is that of a toad, and the path to gold is followed.

    You dig up a forest for some rocks, your master tickles your belly.
    You eat the scraps from Hardcastle's table, even those most smelly.
    But should the poor be needing some aid, you're nowhere to be found.
    Because they have nothing to give, you stay deep underground.

    Your folly shall be, the rocks you mine, are what keep your foe in check.
    The riches you earn, will all mean naught, when the Shadovar are out for your neck.
    You'd sell your grandmother for Hardcastle's gold, so desperate to succeed.
    By the time you've regained your kin’s lost home, all that’ll be left is greed.

    Brave Thifur, o’ brave Thifur, when are you going to see.
    That those who you think, aid your path, see nothing but a thug in thee.
    With every action, you prove them right, so blinded by your goal.
    Your ancestors would be ashamed of you, you honourless little troll.

  • The Golden Prince
    The Prince of Gold has sold his soul, for power and prestige!
    Abbathor, the god of greed, He now seeks to appease!

    Once a champion of his kin, admired for his courage
    Now he works only for coin, To Hardcastle he proposes marriage

    The Golden prince, killed all the Hullack druids true
    His nose could smell the mythalite, so he ran them through!

    Like his peers from Thrivaldi, Thifur cannot stop his greed!
    He is rich beyond a doubt, while we cannot our children feed!

    In his quest, for gold and wealth, to better the lives of his kin!
    He took the gold, of an evil man, The easy choice is his sin!

    The legacy, of the golden prince, will be a tale of a sad little coward
    He will count his golden coin, while his kin marches forward

    A hero true, cannot be bought, unlike Thifur, Malcolms bitch
    The dwarves will with him enrich themselves, Everyone else, they will ditch