These are the poems, stories, and songs written by Marinusians about Marinus. Some of them tell a little history, some of them brag a lot, and some of them are purely wishful thinking.
This page is (obviously) still under construction. If you have stories, poems, or songs about Marinus and would like to see them on this page. We are planning eventually to include the songs with their music; if you have a song you would like to have transcribed, contact the Marinus Titled Bard at
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by Maille ingen Bhrain Cadal
aka Brenna of Lyonsbane
This is part of the legend of the Barnacled Bullfrog, and while the author admits that not a word of it is true, why should the truth stand in the way of a good story??
Now all ye have heard of Lord Michael's disgrace
When from Baron's court, he was banned from the place.
Forever banished lest he feel death's blow....
He had displeased their Excellencies so!
His rakish flirting sparked the Baroness' ire
And his stories and puns added fuel to the fire,
But that damned drunken joke in his Excellency's ear
Was he undoing...the end of Lord Michael, I fear.
Landed but disgraced, his fortune flew.
None would buy the grains that he grew.
He sat and pondered, his drink on knee.
Why could not his downfall his salvation be?
He'd brew his grain...have his cooks make some stew.
He'd build a tavern by the sea so blue.
At first his patrons were salty but sound,
Dirty and boisterous. He liked them, he found.
He hired on girls from the village below.
Their wenching was grand. Men brought friends in tow.
Gaming, as always, in taverns abounds
And like all else with Michael, was the best to be found!
The barfights there were the stuff of lore,
But all men love a good fight, to be sure.
They fought with stools and buckets, chickens and pies
While onlookers roared and laughed at the side.
When what a wonderous thing happend one night...
Word of the wenching and drinking did alight,
And who do you think showed up at the door?
Why the lords of the land came in by the score!
The Barnacled Bullfrog was gritty. 'Tis true.
But it offered the best games, wenches, and food.
Dukes and sailors, farmers and lords,
They came and enjoyed together by hordes.
The reputation had spread, but it spread still more
Til no less than the king came on board!
He gamboled and laughed with the lowest of men
And left late proclaiming he'd come once again.
And so, the Bullfrog flourished and it's reputation grew,
And Lord Michael was more popular with every breath he drew.
So, while the Baron tended bar and wenching was the Baroness,
Lord Michael was banished still to the best kept secret in Marinus.
copyright © 2000 by Dawn Leeper (used with permission)
Barony by the Sea
Music & Lyrics By: Mu’allim Rabah az-Zafir, OP
© 1995, 2009 – Ross E. Wilkins (used with permission)
I’ll sing to you of Marinus, the barony by the sea.
I’ll sing about her people and tell you her history;
About her meek beginnings and where she’s come to be.
Yes, I’ll sing to you of Marinus, the barony by the sea.
We started out in Tir-y-don, the southern half you see
Our presence here was small for we only numbered three
As a canton we were shireless back in A. S. Number Nine
With our northern friends we didn’t mind, we had a grand old time.
Then Isenfir & Tir-y-Don, along with Caer Mear’s halls
Three Cantons strong they formed a wall, the shire of old Stonewall.
As part of the East Realm back in A. S. number Ten
We still were small but not for long, I’ll tell what happened then:
Those of us in southern climes disliked the northern tolls,
Eleven was the year when we set ourself some goals:
We formed Pindar, a canton, the name was soon turned down
So we chose the name of Marinus, so fitting for our town.
Crown Principality bestowed, Atlantia was born.
We joined together with our friends from Tir-y-Don up north,
To form a brand new shire, Dinas Moryn was it’s name
and the Dinas Moryn Shield Wall was many a fighter’s bane.
Atlantia gained her freedom, a kingdom’s crown she wore
Tir-y-Don’s a barony, Dinas Moryn is no more.
In A. S. Sixteen we did rise, a City-State to stand
And just two years later we became a province of the land.
A barony we finally rose in A. S. Twenty-Two
Our Baroness was Catherine, her hair a golden hue.
Donal was the Baron, a singer of renown
And for four short years (or were they long?) they served us and the Crown.
Alesia and Richard were next to wear Baronial Hue
A surplus of frogs it seems has made the Baron blue
They put up with all we give with grace and courtesy
For we know that it’s not easy to wear the blue and green.
Now let me introduce to you the next to wear the Gold
Our Baron was a Scotsman, yes Myles of Falkonhold
Olwen de Montgomery was Baroness by his side
And Tartans were the latest thing to show Baronial Pride.
Arnbiørn and Rosine were next to serve the Crown
We know the job is strenuous but please don't wear a frown
To make your reign go smoothly, I'd like to lend my hand
By adding Scotty Dogs to Frogs as things that should be banned.
It's A.S. thirty-eight, an Orkney lass is now in power.
With a Landsknecht beside her, above her he does tower.
Otto and Margret are the ones I'm singing of,
And when they're holding hands it's plain to see that they're in love!
In Forty Two there came a knight, Sir William’s on the scene,
With Sara Beth, his lovely bride, they wear the blue and green,
Even when he’s working hard, William’s full of cheer,
“Where’s Sara Beth? It’s time for court, come out of the kitchen, dear!”
Now I’ve sung to you of Marinus, the barony by the sea.
I sang about her people and told you her history;
About her meek beginnings and where she’s come to be.
Yes, I’m proud to be from Marinus, the barony by the sea.
Yes, I'm proud to be from Marinus, My Barony by the Sea.
Rev 1 – © 07/13/96 (Myles & Olwen's Verse)
Rev 2 – © 08/28/97 (Arnbiørn & Rosine's Verse)
Rev 3 – © 11/22/03 (Otto & Margret’s Verse)
Rev 4 – © 01/23/09 (William and Sara Beth’s Verse)
Barony by the Sea was originally written by Rabah to fulfill his obligation as the Titled Bard of Marinus to write a song, story or poem about the barony.
The historical information contained in this song was gleaned from old issues of the Pikestaff, Atlantian Archivist’s records, an article found in the October AS XXIII issue of the Moot Points (Marinus’ newsletter) written by Baron Donal mac Ruiseart about Marinus’ history, and conversations with Breandan Ceallach O’Donnabhain, THL Giles O’Culzean, Baron Richard D’Andrade, and Mistress Tannis of Tir-y-Don who were here for most of it . . .
The verse about Myles and Olwen was only performed for Myles once, for he left this life the following day. I dedicate this song to his memory … to my friend.
lyrics by Donal Mac Ruiseart
(tune -- first part of "We Are the Champions" by Queen)
The Dinas Moryn Shield Wall flourished for several years, when Tir-y-Don and Marinus were formed into a sort of coalition branch called Dinas Moryn. We wore gray surcotes and used as a badge, "Argent masoned sable, a chief embattled azure and a base vert, all within a bordure sable." The effect was of a wall with sky above and grass beneath. The bordure was required to difference it from another similar design.
At our peak we fielded 24. Imagine six to ten shields with that blazon lined up side by side . . . At Pennsic X, before the Woods Battle, the whole Eastern army took up the chorus.
The last verse is a reference to the fact that in Pennsic IX and X, the Dinas Moryn Shield Wall encountered a Midrealm band called the "Killer Elite" and trounced them both times.
. . . everyone begins with clap, clap, stomp! clap, clap, stomp! which continues throughout the song . . .
- Buddy, we're the Dinas Moryn Shield Wall,
Do you think that you can take us on today?
You'll have sweat on your face,
Big disgrace,
Dropping weapons and armour all over the place!
CHORUS: We will, we will, knock you!
We will, we will, knock you!
- Buddy, when the Dinas Moryn Shield Wall
Comes into the field, we never run away!
We have beards on our face,
We don't wear lace,
We kill and maim all over the place!
CHORUS
- Buddy, when the Dinas Moryn Shield Wall
Marches from the field, you'll have been blown away,
With tears on your face,
Your helms unlaced,
And corpses strewn all over the place!
CHORUS
- Buddy, we're the Dinas Moryn Shield Wall
In service to our King, we take the field today!
Quite hopeless your case,
When us you face!
Good luck if us you want to displace!
CHORUS
- Buddy, we're the Dinas Moryn Shield Wall
Eastern vanguard in the Pennsic War!
We soundly beat
The "Killer Elite!"
When we were done with 'em, they fought no more!
CHORUS (repeated several times)
© 1980 by Jeb Raitt (used with permission)
lyrics by Bethoc ingen Alpin
(tune -- "Model of a Modern Major-General" by Arthur Sullivan)
- I am the very model of a modern Marinusian.
I care not if your clan is Capulet or Montagusian.
I know the Kings in Europe and I quote the fights historical
From Agincourt to Roncevaux in order categorical.
I'm very well-acquainted, too, with bards and literary types.
Of dragon-fighting saints and knights, I know that they're a lot of hype,
And I discuss the rhythmic schemes iambic and pentameter
With experts who say Shakespeare's just an overrated amateur.
(With experts who say Shakespeare's just an overrated amateur.)
(With experts who say Shakespeare's just an overrated amateur.)
(With experts who say Shakespeare's just an overrated ama-amateur.)
I'm very good at alchemy, astrology, and poetry;
I understand the simple and the complicated orat'ry.
I'll name monastic orders Benedictine to Carthusian,
And I'm the very model of a modern Marinusian.
(She'll name monastic orders Benedictine to Carthusian,
And she's the very model of a modern Marinusian.)
- I know our myths -- King Arthur, Roland, Romeo and Juliet.
I've studied all the details of the man who died so cruelly at
The Lindow bog in Denmark that was excavated recently,
A fact that shows how fiction can be understated frequently.
My garb is spotless and attempts to imitate the period.
My shoes, while modern, look like leather and are not inferior.
My Tudor ruffles stand up straight; my kilt is worn “au naturel.”
My surcoat has no sides at all, that's why it's called the Gates of Hell!
(Her surcoat has no sides at all, that's why it's called the Gates of Hell!)
(Her surcoat has no sides at all, that's why it's called the Gates of Hell!)
(Her surcoat has no sides at all, that's why it's called the Gates-the Gates of Hell!)
Then I can write a recipe in Ogham or in cuneiform,
And tell you every detail of Caractacus's uniform.
I know the Scottish tartans are just figments and illusions,
And I'm the very model of a modern Marinusian.
(She knows the Scottish tartans are just figments and illusions,
And she's the very model of a modern Marinusian.)
- I know the Celts, the Vikings, and the Picts who fight in woad that's blue;
The Frisians, the Franks, the Huns with their barbaric retinue;
The Saxons, Angles, Normans, Scots, the Mongol horde from Asian steppes;
The Goths and Lombards, Danes and Gauls, the Visigoths, and all the rest.
And I've examined records of Bructeri and Thuringians,
And Vandals, Merovingians, the Jutes, and Carolingians.
I know the stories of the Atticotti who were cannibals,
And those who crossed the Alps on giant elephants of Hannibal's.
(And those who crossed the Alps on giant elephants of Hannibal's.)
(And those who crossed the Alps on giant elephants of Hannibal's.)
(And those who crossed the Alps on giant elephants of Hanni-Hannibal's.)
My “family tree” (in double quotes) consists of some or all of these -
My coat of arms is busier than an ant hill or a hive of bees.
Because I speak some Latin, German, Greek, and Parlez-vousian,
I am the very model of a modern Marinusian!
(Because she speaks some Latin, German, Greek, and Parlez-vousian,
She is the very model of a modern Marinusian!)
- In fact, when all my spare time goes for sewing medieval clothes,
When all I need for chain mail is a coil of wire and needlenose,
When “Renaissance” and “man” are put together in one phrase for me,
And when I do no overtime at work and there's no raise for me;
You'll say I've gone a bit too far, and yes, you're right I'm overboard,
But how I love to fight for kingdom, barony, and “overlord!”
It's so much fun to dig a pit that's lined with stone and free from grass,
And build a fire from seasoned wood that's guaranteed to warm your - - bones.
(And build a fire from seasoned wood that's guaranteed to warm your bones.)
(And build a fire from seasoned wood that's guaranteed to warm your bones.)
(And build a fire from seasoned wood that's guaranteed to warm your-warm your bones.)
All my medieval knowledge is replete with puns and rhymery,
And cultivated, too, by reading sources that are primary.
I've shared my erudition from beginning to conclusion,
For I'm the very model of a modern Marinusian!
(She's shared her erudition from beginning to conclusion,
For she's the very model of a modern Marinusian!)
copyright © 2000 by Ginny Barnett
