The Triumph of General Strig - Song attributed to the Thorcin Recovery League
To the Archon of Burdock's Valley, Lord Iskander Basileon,
Imperial salutations, etc.
This song was taken from one of the rabblerousers we were charged with vanquishing. We heard them sing it as a form of morale booster. It is the recommendation of this commander that we seek to identify it wherever possible and arrest those who sing it on charges of potential collusion with the Thorcin Recovery League, as we believe the "Strig" referred to in the song is the folklorical Eadric Strigona.
Here it is reproduced in its entirety for your grace to analyse:
No more chant your old rhymes about old Ard 'n Vul
Their feats I do little admire
I'll sing the achievements of General Strig
Now the hero of the Thorcinga
Brave Strig was to measures of violence unused
'till his sufferings became so severe
That at last to defend his own interest he rose
And for the great fight did prepare
The guilty may fear but no vengeance he aims
At the honest man's life or estate
His wrath is entirely confined to wide frames
And to those that would Thorcin abate
Those engines of mischief were sentenced to die
By unanimous vote of the clade
And Strig who can all opposition defy
Was the grand executioner made
And when in the work he destruction employs
Himself to no method confines
By fire and by water he gets them destroyed
For the elements aid his designs
Whether guarded by soldiers along the highway
Or closely secured in a room
He shivers them up by night and by day
And nothing can soften their doom
Ye may censure great Strig's disrespect for the laws
Who ne'er for a moment reflects
That foul imposition alone was the cause
Which produced these unhappy effects
Let the haughty the humble no longer oppress
Then shall Strig sheath his conquering sword
His grievances instantly meet with redress
Then peace shall be quickly restored
Let the wise and the great lend their aid and advice
Nor e'er their assistance withdraw
Till full Thorcin rule and with no sacrifice
Is established by custom and law
Then he when this arduous contest is o'er
Shall raise in full splendor his head
And taxes and tributes and swearing no more
Shall deprive all his subjects of bread
(The original is obviously better, but I just had to do it)