Snow Roman

Once upon a winter time,
Not so long ago
A band of brave young Skerrstranders
Went wand'ring through the snow.
They ran after their dogsleds
All through the wint'ry night
And arrived at their closest neighbors,
At the breaking of dawn's light.

Now to this keep a Prince did come,
All bundled up and warm.
He brought along a bodyguard,
So far away from home.
He knew these were his people,
But trust them he did not,
As Celts do not like Romans,
No matter the honors they've caught.

The snow was bright, the day was warm
The host filled up the bowls.
For our Skerrstrand friends on this Prince depend
To defend them from the trolls.
Lord Ottar's gift the Prince did take,
A glitt’ring brooch so bright.
The bribe did bring, a pledge of help
In the cold and fire-lit night.

The Prince had traveled far and long,
Even a Roman nose was offended.
"A bath!" he cried, "I must be clean!"
His Royal court now ended.
"My servant bold, you must guard me,
Lest I be slain by these 'friends.'"
But the bodyguard, true barbarian,
His filth he would not end.

"Fear not," said I, "You shall not be molested,
Though Roman you may be.
Your life is safe, for though unclothed,
We shall be naked with thee!"
"Naked?" he asked, his eyes full of fear,
"Naked? Your Prince? Me?"
"Of course, your Highness, we’re civilized folk
And we shan’t even laugh at thee." (Because he’s not
wearing his crown, you perverts!)

So through the dark and silent snow
Our small band marched through the wind.
A quarter mile to the cozy sauna,
And clean snow to scour our skin.
Sturdy Celts and Norsemen led the way,
Undaunted by the snow.
Leading the Prince and our Skerrstrand friends
To the steaming heat below.

We all settled in, the benches were full
The heat began to rise.
We sweated together, the Prince and his people
Sweat dripping into our eyes.
The first to jump was a mad blue Celt
He flew into the storm.
A minute or less, he had returned,
Into a snow beast transformed.

The Prince he watched the Celt thaw out,
His disbelief quite evident.
And then a sturdy Norseman stood,
And went to brave the elements.
"The snow’s quite warm!" the now-monster quipped,
"Quite soft and invigorating!
I recommend you take a dip,
Before the wind starts driving."

At that I stood, my blood a-boil,
And headed for the door.
And though I was no hairy beast,
As those who'd gone before,
I near tore the hinges from the doors
In my haste to meet the snow.
I left my snowprint in one quick leap, and
I was back inside, dripping ice in the fire's glow.

The Roman's pride had pricked him,
His skin could hold no more heat.
He stood and squared his shoulders,
And didn't pause a beat.
Bravely he strode through the doorway,
Shut it tight behind.
We then heard a shout, and three doors slam,
We feared his state of mind.

He stood there in the firelight,
Dripping ice and melt.
He was Roman, not a Northerner,
Had no protective pelt.
He glared at us in order,
Grumbled at the stove.
Growled "You’re all crazy!"
Then "Move over, I'm cold."

This is the story I've told you,
I was there and it's true.
We didn't kill our Prince that day,
Nor freeze his toesies blue.
He calls us "brave" or "very strange,"
To others and to our face,
Yet he proved himself a true Northshielder,
And once again, won his place.

Ya, sure, you betcha.

This can be done in poem form or to "T'was a Dark and Story Night" by mercades Lackey, or anything else that fits.

Another song about Romans, a filk to "fish Heads" read at your own risk

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