Andre M. Pietroschek
Lone Stars, Sixguns, & Red Orc Tomahawks (Wild West Poetic)
Lone Stars, Warpstone Sixguns, & Red Orc Tomahawks
WIP, Revision 2023 © Andre M. Pietroschek, all rights reserved
A handful of prosaic-doublets about my Warhammer-Wild-West Intermezzo
No warranties. My prose, prosaic poetry, rants, and ebooks, are offered solely for personal contemplation purposes. The author and publisher are not offering it as legal, accounting, or other professional services advice. While best efforts have been invested in preparing this version and its sub-context, the author and publisher make no representations or warranties of any kind, and assume no liabilities of any kind with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents and specifically disclaim any implied warranties of safety, functionality, reliability or fitness of use for any specific purpose. Neither the author nor the publisher shall be held liable or responsible to any person or entity with respect to any loss or incidental or consequential damages caused, or alleged to have been caused, directly or indirectly, by the information, prose, ideas, and opinion contained herein. No warranty may be created or extended by sales representatives or written sales materials. Every personality is different and the worldview, moods, prose, and conclusions contained herein may not be suitable for your situation or anyone's well-being.
Norse – Thorson's last stand
That Night in Odin's Belch, down in good ole Texas
Our kind Sheriff Thorson prepared to make a stand
He would soon die fightin' with a weapon in his hand
Blue eyes'sight grimly set on the arrivin' outlaw band
His deputies aside him, them three against the odds
Unafraid of Death they don't even dodge the shots
The outlaws look upon them, false pride upon true grit
More than one damn outlaw panty fillin' with warm shit
Rifles & sixguns started blazing, Death came as hot lead
Em three who stood for duty killed a dozen with godspeed
When everything went silent and 'em Valkyries arrived
The settlers proudly ensured that nobody had survived
Loadin' Warpstone bullets Sheriff Vermyn awaits the gang
Hornless, dwarven drunkards with Steamguns for da bang!
Workers'n'settlers hide in panic, as the west entry tunnel fills
Dread bearded beasts indeed came down here from their hills.
Four did invade the Saloon, like addicts to their craved fix
Our Sheriff Vermyn intends to send 'em down a River Styx
Em horny drunkard punker laid hands on harlots' silken fur
Em had it cummin', so clear what was now awaiting to occur
Saloon Doors kicked open, Warpstone bullets deliver death
Of four bearded fuck-ups not one could face Vermyns' wrath
So, victory squeaks loud, the Sheriff felled the horrid beasts
No miracle that on such a night the whole town gladly feasts!
So Chief Sagebrush had send Gardush to Spirit's End
The Shaman, Gardush, was to become a Spirit-Friend
White Hand Tribe of Red Orcs was threatened to Death
By an army of riders bringing settlers to the weird West
Gardush wore sacred gear, rattle and tomahawk in hands
Come on out ye coward spirits, or we'll never be friends!
And strong Manitoba had heard him, as soon was clear to see
So dark elder specter promised to set all who die fighting free
Hence Gardush learned the warpath knows only gruesome ends
But those who fight with courage will for eternity meet friends
Gardush returned to the tribe sharing the spirit's final news:
Don't ask, where to flee, but what weapons you should choose
The tribe came down on Fort Knightly in that same night
Only Death an option even wives and kids braved to fight
Herder Mordhuil was a hard and pious kinda seafaring man
Sworn to deliver homewards as many slave-herds as he can
His bunch had been hard workin' they gathered all they could
120 slaves planned to be, but nature selected how many would
The sacred Confederacy was fighting the overwhelming odds
And still the rebel songs sounded even louder than their shots!
From the swamps of Louisiana Mordhuil had once appeared
A knife-eared man of duty, who was respected & well-feared
The Crimson Corsair was a symbol of the fierce Rebel Pride;
Slaves gasped in awe, as the armored steamship came into sight
That bedeviled Union would make all good come to a final end
Millions free of chains, yet work-drones damned, if foe or friend
But, God in his dark wisdom has allowed them to prove worth:
Die to earn yer paradise, or submit to be living shame on Earth!
Conquistador false oaths not forgotten, thru Mexico they ride
Clear sight on their future, if the vile Union gains more might
Gorgeous'n'deadly riders their battalion joins the losing war
Da right cause is 'em only option, as on 'em honor they swore
Slann masters in their wisdom had tempered with their blood
Clone sisters created to help thwarting the blue Union flood
On ships of wood and iron they skirmish up to their last breath
For all of 'em da one man who touches 'em unpunished is Death
Opposing da Union demons and steam cannons cooking 'em alive
By each blade and bow, oh with what conviction they did strive
With ever-thinning ranks the tide of war does take its bloody toll
Still to the moment of their death with high spirit did they stroll
Sisterhood and Rebel Pride know they will never see their victory day
Still, shining the example of godsworn sacrifice chargin' into da fray!
Freedom from all oppression, a law governing each equal for 'em all
High ideal or false promise them wood elves heeded the human call!
Priests, medics, and rangers taking up the uniforms of Union Blue
So sad for the deluded Confederacy they now must bloodily undo
Old Grey clashes with Modern Blue, both fighting for their highest goal
Each major battle soldiers clashed like swine and bull in a butcher's bowl
Their unit stands among trees in silence, as at their generals command
On dark elves & Amazons they've arrows to lose from each snipers hand
Earth Mother drinks much blood these days, but tears fill all their eyes
No forest-born child ever rejoices, when any true believer bravely dies
Slavery the sin & crime in one, a second trail of tears, law enforcement done
Elf fights Elf, Brother kills Brother, Sister kills Sister by blade, bow, or gun
Sacred Isha we've many wounds to heal, as too many fallen left to mourn,
Dear celestial Lords, Kurnous & Loec, in what a cruel world we were born
Them hunters stopped appearing, as Grey and Blue did go to War
It turned out a major banquet, as each day we raided even more
Khulgar swore Khorne had blessed us, as bloody battle never stopped
We had faith, when upon the Grey or Blue, from ambush we hopped!
Bashing, tearing, clawing for the delicious mystery meat a foe provides
All frenzy & joy, as surely great Khorne to glutton's paradise us guides
From our caves or captured forts we went on each new frenzied killing spree
Villages, towns, entire counties left unguarded, Grey & Blue nowhere to see
Our whelps each smiling at us, skull-totem-poles they build in pious pride
Never again will we doubt that there is blessing in Khornes' godly might
Our best females all with bellies swelling, as our hordes can afford to grow
No matter how Khorne split 'em into Grey and Blue, to Khorne we gladly bow
That new mine yields gold'n'iron, but the price is paid in lives
Each tunnel-warden knows that not much longer one survives
Graybeard patrols on duty, lantern & sawed-off shotgun in hand
Vile Tzeentch ensured the blood-toll for darn riches to defend!
With every chaos mutant onslaught new gore decorates each wall
Foul Nurgle, wickedly helpful, ensures we don't enjoy 'em to fall
Graybeard now shows a youngster how blows can make monsters cease
and as by now is needed how to avoid catching each god-send disease
Hardest work and fiercest fighting have ever been the dwarven way
Best workers, smiths'n'soldiers, but “drunks” is all most fellows say
Graybeard just reloaded, and with lantern one sees, but cannot shield;
So smack the mutant with the barrel, then shoot head to win the field
The young one is still shaky, but stalwart by his side to turn the tide
Graybeard honors the valor, as on and on they parry, shoot, and fight
Work-shunning and white collar the underpaid fellow in darn tweed
One legion of lackeys earnin' big, for with the town major 'em feed
So, the snobs go sleuth on yer smart villains ever greedy for da green
Apache and Comanche say no greater wanna-be-penguins they've seen
Still, with 'em educated standards 'em tend to solve a lot o' subtle crimes
And, funny, as 'em look, they are da darn best detectives o' their times!
So if ye ain't hollow-headed, and want yer own family earn any decent pay
Go apply, get yer darn costume, and solve each crime the Pinkerton Way
Outwitting da embezzlers, 'em forgers & counterfeiters, for da green'n'law
Their is a righteous streak to that future need big Chief Pinkerton foresaw
Em rigid and 'em royal, each faith-day, see da Pinkerton's kneel to Verena
So have yer opinion, son, but know 'em penguins made da law much keener
Em darn Undead – Yer living dead folks
Forced out of black slumber by forbidden words from tomes or priests
Again trapped in torment, we vengefully slaughter and feed like beasts
Them Hungry Dead 'em called us, but we come in many different breeds
Sometimes it's adaptation, sometimes it's a reflection of our sinful deeds
Our gluttons live in crypts, and they love to hunt their prey in ravenous packs
Bloodlust, hunger, diseased claws, and paralyzing saliva empower ghoul attacks
Bones rattling at night, on most graveyards the fierce skeleton infantry awakes
Once freed from flesh & tissue one has a grim look unto causes and great sakes
Stench, shock, and the ever-hungry brutal bite that is in what zombies delight
True Nitemares of townsfolk, when from the Fallen they arise as unholy blight
Oh Yuppie beyond 'em ranks of rabble there are 'em who even went to school
Frigging Necromancers and the Vampires undo almost any kind of mortal Fool
Da realm of the dead awaits ye all, and we returned to say'n'show it ever true
For, at times a grimoire-born return, or vengeance, is a darn jolly thing to do!
Four rode against Nurgle
Four-Hoofed angels darn-well chargin' through da black of night
Upon their backs two doctors who know 'gainst Nurgle 'em ride!
Foul chaos god was tempted, or maybe lured by darn catholic wrath
As he invoked disease t'cum an'plague every Sodomites cursed path
But, no urge'n'no darn green made 'em two dare such gambit at night
Em were husband'n' wife, both knowing modern science on their side!
Few hours time of incubation was left by yer well-learned higher math
If not getting syringed a chaos mutant would claw itself outta each ath
Shallya'n'Hyppokrates looked upon 'em faithful with kind'n'holy eyes
Four heroes rode to ensure that by their gambit no darn townsfolk dies
Dodge City far behind 'em, hearts-pounding due exert, as da seconds count
Sweat pours, breath's drawn hard, a ride toughest for da horses 'em mount
The bell-tower alerts da folks, as two doctors risked it all to make a stand
The few survivors tellin' tales about 'em saintly medics and the healing hand!
Song Lyrics for the Context:
- Outlaw by Man'O'War
- Last Rebel by the Tattooed Bagpipers at youtube
- El Dorado Movie Theme – John Wayne got a good one here!
- Ghost Riders in the Sky performed by Johnny Cash
- Cowboy Dreams by Jimmy Nails
Films I once liked:
- The Last Outlaw - Goldie with Mickey Rourke
- Once upon a time in the West. Henry Fonda and Charles Bronson gave greatness to it.
- Westworld. Yul Brynner really influenced my life, and made me shriek.
- Young Guns, as once I shared the naive idealism of the youthful spirit.
- The Shootist, as John Wayne gave it a very mature weariness&death-wish.
- Nevada Pass - Goldie with Charles Bronson
- Tombstone - Val Kilmer performing darkly-splendid!
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Andre M. Pietroschek.
Published on e-Stories.org on 03/03/2023.