Dragons in the northern sky,Ice and blizzards drawing nigh.Standing still with patience great,To find out the perfect mate.Freezing with and icey stare,A blast of power from their lair.Stars shining from up high,Lettting their power loose to fly,Crushing down the mightiest foes,Delivering the most powerful blows.

 

Dragons in the eastern sky,Smoke and shadows flying by.Stealth and speed is their way,To fly away from the day.The moon, their power, shining down,Speeding the rain to the ground.Biting with their powerful jaws,And slashing with their mighty claws.They seek the ground and hide in caves,To sleep away the pressence of day.

 

Dragons in the southern sky,Raging fire they cause to fly.Burning strength is their forte,With all the earth they do play.Tornado's they beat, with powerful wings,Blowing away both paupers and kings.A toothy grin they smile at last,When their prey is in their clasp.They love to run and play games,But are far from being tame.

 

Dragons in the western sky,Light and fire, flying high.Flying through with speed and strength,Gathering in the morning length.The moon shines bright, but brighter still,Is that yellow firery wheel.It adorns the sky with yellow gold,Which seems to peace and presence hold,And while the dragons fly it pastTheir power grows, and grows fast.

 

Dragons flying in the sky,Some are raging, some silently lie.Power raging from wind beats and fiery blasts,To icy blizzards and even the stars at last.Some hide from the sun's golden light,And fly only in the darkness of night.Some choose only the icy lands,While others prefer the fiery sands.Dragons flying with their might,Fire, ice, dark, and light.

 

The war had lasted way to long,Destrucion in the wake of day,The cry of death echoing in song,And noone seeing another way.

 

No buildings remained, no empire could last,So many people tried to standBut pain was everywhere, and death came fast.They all failed in the end.

 

From in the midst of the war,Flying high for all to see,Was born that day the lore,Of Naltea` Shuu La`ree.

 

Into the middle of the battle,A dragon flew, with strength and speed,Golden highlights, and in the saddle,Sat Naltea` Shuu La`ree.

 

Holding high her staff of power,Shouting loud her battle cry,And her dragon flying over,The whole scene in his eye.

 

From the clouds that gave cover,An echo of power that none could see,Hundreds of more dragons all flew over,Commanded by Naltea` Shuu La`ree

 

The army could not withstand them,And the gernerals could not out thinkAs the dragons flew down upon them,And wiped them out in a blink.

 

Noone could withstand the power,Of Naltea` Shuu La`ree,As she knocked down every tower,And every building that could be seen.

 

The battle was quickly over,As the dragons showed their might,And flew back into the cover,Blocking out the suns light.

 

All the dragons she commandedLeft the scene they had made,And the survivors were glad they hadn't landedAs in the cloud their image did fade.

 

In every battle around the world,In which the war was being fought,Came the same clouded whirl,Bringing the peace that was sought.

 

When the war was finely finished,And no more dragons could be seen,Peace was finalley pushed,All thanks to Naltea` Shuu La`ree.

 

Not to many knew the story,So the legend was told aroundBy thoses few who had seen the gloryWho were left there on the ground.

 

All in shock at what they saw,Knowing noone would believe,Of the power that there was,And in Naltae` Shuu La`ree.

 

n the darkness of my world I sit atop my mountain, To watch the silvery flow of the wine in my fountain, Even in the darkest night, I still relish with magnificent sight, Perched upon the very tip, Waiting for Greed to take a sip, Throughout the ages and since the beginning of time, I've been the keeper of the forbidden wine, Wine that was made from the blood of my kin, Who died in the battles of the immortal's sin, My kin and myself fought with the brave, Dieing for the children we wanted to save, Our lives we lost as our blood soaked the ground, The bugle of the dead, the only sound, Those who lived collected the dead, Along with the earth that was then blood red, Manufactured by the love for the many, So throughout time there would always be plenty, Greed is a plague that desires my wine, He scales the sides of my precious vines, He desecrates and humiliates the blood of my tribe, An endless act of hatered I fail to describe, So I sit and wait perched upon the brow of my mountain, Tempting Greed to drink from my fountain, And when He comes I shall spread my wings, And the last sounds heard will be his gurgling screams, Only my blood can give you a life refined, My blood has the power to make you divine, But only the chosen may drink from my spring, Only I can choose for I am the queen, Let Greed come and attempt to take, The blood of my kin now that's a mistake, I will show, What so many know, That my biggest thrill, Is for a bloody kill, Blood tastes good with a side of flesh, I love my kills bloody and fresh, I love to hear the sound of my claws, Ripping away the meat from Greed's jaws, There's nothing better then killing Greed, Burying Him deep underneath the rag weed, My fire within calls to me, Begging to kill our old enemy, Begging to vanquish Him for all eternity, I will burn, twist, and turn, Until the enemy does not return, For I am the mountain queen, The dragon of all the unforeseen, Gliding in the wind on the power of my wings, Listening to the birds in the midmorning Spring, Killing the Greed born in all of God's things, I am the Dragon Queen. 

 

Dragons are crafty, wicked and wise,You can tell just by looking into thier eyes,If you see a burning red flame,It can only mean they're betroth in giving pain,If their eyes sparkle and glimmer of the lightest of blue,You best be careful what you do,If your words are truthful and faithful at heart,You have no need to worry,they won't tear you apart,But if your words are unlawful and hate is in your eyes,They will only bring you to your demise.

 

Dragons of black and charchoal wings, Has a breath of death, they're evil things, At sunset they arouse and then soon take up flight, Flying throughout the darkest of night, Seeing their wounderous bodies soar through the skies, Searching for a kill with their blood red eyes, You better hope the dragon has eaten, He'll fight to the death untill you are beaten, When daylight breaks he'll fly home to his den, But beware for nightfall shall come again.

 

Dragon LoveLeft in a pool of blood, yet not my own, but it is or was me, In a world were humans hate us, I am yet a dragon left alone, There are more then one but I'm am toren between the dragon and human, For my true love is a human... Calidoria, oh Calidoria, How can a name so beautiful give me such pain and still make my heart sing, In the depths of my being I wish to rip off the wings, claws and fangs, Oh to be human with Calidoria, Yet, I can not be something I am not and so my tears are in vein, I tried so hard to be human that I tryed to rip the dragon from me, but without the dragon there is nothing but a shell of a being left to die in a pool of blood. 

 

On wings of thunderHonor boundSearch me out, I drum the soundTwist and turn in the nightDragon come, my guiding light.Protector, guardian, friend not foeCome to me, see my sigil glow.Strong and true this friendship charmI beckon thee, keep me from harm.Around and about your magick swirlsCome to me, your wings unfurled.

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Patchwork Merchant Mercenaries had its humble beginnings as an idea of a few artisans and craftsmen who enjoy performing with live steel fighting. As well as a patchwork quilt tent canvas. Most had prior military experience hence the name.

 

Patchwork Merchant Mercenaries.

 

Vendertainers that brought many things to a show and are know for helping out where ever they can.

As well as being a place where the older hand made items could be found made by them and enjoyed by all.

We expanded over the years to become well known at what we do. Now we represent over 100 artisans and craftsman that are well known in their venues and some just starting out. Some of their works have been premiered in TV, stage and movies on a regular basis.

Specializing in Medieval, Goth , Stage Film, BDFSM and Practitioner.

Patchwork Merchant Mercenaries a Dept of, Ask For IT was started by artists and former military veterans, and sword fighters, representing over 100 artisans, one who made his living traveling from fair to festival vending medieval wares. The majority of his customers are re-enactors, SCAdians and the like, looking to build their kit with period clothing, feast gear, adornments, etc.

Likewise, it is typical for these history-lovers to peruse the tent (aka mobile store front) and, upon finding something that pleases the eye, ask "Is this period?"

A deceitful query!! This is not a yes or no question. One must have a damn good understanding of European history (at least) from the fall of Rome to the mid-1600's to properly answer. Taking into account, also, the culture in which the querent is dressed is vitally important. You see, though it may be well within medieval period, it would be strange to see a Viking wearing a Caftan...or is it?

After a festival's time of answering weighty questions such as these, I'd sleep like a log! Only a mad man could possibly remember the place and time for each piece of kitchen ware, weaponry, cloth, and chain within a span of 1,000 years!! Surely there must be an easier way, a place where he could post all this knowledge...

Traveling Within The World is meant to be such a place. A place for all of these artists to keep in touch and directly interact with their fellow geeks and re-enactment hobbyists, their clientele.

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