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Slaanesh went down to Kislev
Slaanesh went down to Kislev
He was looking for a hold to steal
She was in a bind, 'cause she was way behind
And it was willing to make a deal
When they came across this young dwarf
Pickin' on a vein and minin' it out
And Slaanesh jumped upon a boulder there
And said
"Beardling, I'll tell you what!"

"I guess you didn't know it, but I'm an old-school miner too
And if you'd care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you
You swing your pick real finely, boy, but give Chaos its due
I'll bet a pickaxe of gold against your hold
Cause I think I'm better than you."

The dwarf said, "What sort of idiot would make a pickaxe out of gold? That wouldn't work at all. It would be softer than the rock you were swinging at. That's completely stupid. No deal."
Then Slaanesh stole Karak Vlag anyway.
 
Headpat Compendium
So I started rereading the story and keeping a tally. It may've spun out of control, but regardless:

Here is a list of every single time Mathilde has received a headpat in the entire story.

Headpat Compendium

Stirland's archives were definitely here, and when you inform Wilhelmina of your discovery, the two of you agree that there's no innocent explanation for why they were here no longer. She thanks you for your help, sincerely and warmly.
The looks from around the table are impressed too. Wilhelmina in particular looks thankful that the end is in sight for the crisis of the absent archives, and Van Hal gives you a nod of approval.
"'We'," he notes, placing down his quill. "It is good of you to approach your work with that word foremost in your mind."
"Well done. I will be seeing to the von Stolpes," Van Hal says.
"I wouldn't have investigated him if you had not tipped me off. The blood is on my hands, but on yours as well." He doesn't sound condemning. In fact, he sounds almost gentle, and a little proud.
"Mmm," Van Hal says neutrally, swirling what remains of his liquor in its mug. "That was my thought too, but I wasn't sure if it was the proper caution of an Elector Count or the leftover instincts of a Witch Hunter. I'm glad your thoughts on the matter align with mine."

"Happy to put your mind at ease," you say, and Van Hal smiles at you.
"Good work. And..." he hesitated.
He looks over at you and raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed. Then his gaze flicks down before he hurriedly looks away again.
He turns to you. "The woman of the hour."
If it weren't for you and Wilhelmina, I might as well take up the halberd once more and march to Drakenhof alone, I'd be doing more good than I could do here.
Van Hal nods. "A thorough investigation. Well done."
"Mmm. Couldn't have done much of a better job myself," he notes, a note of pride in his voice. "I had my doubts about you, but you've really come into your own."
"First off," he says with a uncharacteristic grin, "the women of the hour. Wilhelmina and Mathilde."
Everyone at the table already knew this, but there's a congratulatory round of applause anyway. Anton and Schultz especially look delighted. "Even better than I expected," Van Hal says, "and I've come to expect a great deal from the two of you. Very fine work, you'll be rewarded for this.
Van Hal smiles. "Then, Mathilde, you will have your knighthood. Pick a date, we'll hold the ceremony then."
"I'd drink to that, but at this rate toasting all of your accomplishments is a quick route to intoxication," he jests, a smile on his face. You return it.
"Wouldn't miss it, my girl," he says gruffly. "You were thrown in to the great wide ocean to sink or swim, and by Sigmar you swam."
He sighs. "You succeeded where I failed." He seems to struggle with himself for a moment, then offers, "will you pray with me, Dame Mathilde?"
He muses on that for a while, looking at you oddly. "Sometimes I forget how young you are." You open your mouth to reply, but no reply presents itself. He continues on. "Have you fully grasped the fact that you are the second most powerful person in Stirland?" You blink rapidly as you try to take in this sudden change in direction. "Gustav's new to the role. Kasmir was damn near fired. Anton is..." he hesitates, then moves on. "Schultz serves a very specific niche. And Wilhelmina... is a very close third, actually. She's blossomed. But none of them have the combination of abilities, resources, trust and wide-open mandate that you do. And by Sigmar you do the job damn well. But your problem is that you don't believe in yourself to the degree that this job requires you to.
He looks over at you, and looks you up and down with a critical eye. "This the lass that did such a number on the creatures at the breech?" He stumps over to you and extends his hand, and you shake it gingerly, expecting a rock-crushing grip and surprised at the carefulness with which his fingers close around yours. "You did a day's work there. Nothing a few flame cannon couldn't have done, but I daresay you're more portable than they would be."
He finishes his drink and rises. "Come back soon. It's about time you graduated."
We witnessed your defence of your fallen liege, and have great respect for it. Some of us had taken to call you Govibarazak - she who makes an oath-stone of their liege -
Your company has been of great value and comfort to me.

Yours,

Elector Count Abelhelm Van Hal
With the ritual complete, he leans forwards and claps you on the shoulder. "Well done, my girl."
The Reiksguard are picking green tokens out of their meals for weeks to come, and the Palace sends a grudging thankyou to the Grey Order that is passed on to you as a souvenir.
"Likewise. This is not the first time you've come to my attention; first the matter with the Knighthood, then there's that wonderful Matrix of yours.
So I'm afraid all I can offer you to commemorate the occasion is my congratulations."
Belegar thanks you in that gruff and understated way that dwarves have: quietly, but with steel in his voice.
"Heard more about you since you joined," he says thoughtfully. "The business in the land of the Vampires. Neat bit of work, that."
Ulthar and some of his Rangers are in the third wave, and they begin organizing for a foray into the depths of the keep, but he gives you a single, satisfied nod.
"You know," Belegar said thoughtfully. "Mayhaps the manlings legalizing the Zhufokri wasn't such a terrible idea, after all."

"Hmph," said Kragg, in a tone of voice that would terrify most lesser Dwarves, but one that Belegar had learned was only his baseline level of disapproving. "Takes more than one good axe for a workshop to prove itself."

"If you dig a mine and get fifty cartloads of muck and one fistful of gold," Ulthar said thoughtfully. "What you've got there is a gold mine."

"Hmph," said Kragg again. But there was no arguing with a good mining metaphor.
"Did some old souls good to see Grobi falling harmlessly from the sky. Well done.
And though a thousand songs will be sung of the Final Battle of Karag Lhune, I've found I much preferred the Hall of the Moon." The silence between you stretches, broken only by the unceasing tapping of hammer against chisel and chisel against rock. "When we first met in the manling fortress of Grenzstadt, you said you were wandering. Strollendreki. When I spoke to the lads from Karak Kadrin, I got a fair idea why. I don't know whether you'll find what you're looking for here, but know you can always find shelter here while Angrund hearts beat under these mountains."
"Spoke to Kragg," King Belegar says, shaking you from your ponderings. "He said a whole lot about how only a greenskin could be stupid enough to allow the opening that they allowed you. But after that, he said that he had no choice to concede that you were clever to exploit it the way you did, rather than just batting the spell aside. Needless to say, that's the highest of praise anyone, man or Dawi, is likely to get from him."
"The general Runic insight is solid, nothing earthshaking but there's good information there and a lot of it. Good read, too." Another period of silence, and you've only got his gradually raising eyebrows to gauge his reaction by. "They hardly ever bring those Anvils to battle, and I've never even heard of some of those abilities. Damn cagey Dwarves. This one's a cracker, too." The third one is a great deal shorter, but the information goes over just as well. "That title would give a lot of generals heart attacks. Good information, damn good information. I daresay these will see some widespread reading. If this is what's going to come out of that place, it won't just be the diplomatic sorts that want you to stay put.
"Of course you would be - the Sylvania business. If I give you my thanks any more often it'd save time to just leave them in your care permanently.
You're told several times that making good process on learning two separate extremely difficult spells is amazing progress for a time investment of weeks,
"I would've killed them," King Belegar says slowly. "Even after the Gorzhufokri got them talking, if anyone but you had suggested making an accord with them, I'd have had them shoo the beasts into the Underway and then doubled the guard in case they came back."
"A Grey? But..." His eyes flick down to your belt, and then to your sword. "The famous Mathilde Weber."
She looks down at the ledger again, and then at the head. "I'm beginning to understand what he saw in you. In what Magnus saw in your kind."
He sighs in relief. "Thank every God there is for that.
"Actually no, one of our up-and-coming Magisters. Dame Weber."

"Oh?" He turns his full attention to you. "I greatly enjoyed Dragon Ogres and Volcanic Lightning. You got them all?"
"I should have guessed," he says with a smile, "I've heard good things from the Dwarves.
"We do not celebrate the death of foes here," King Ungrim says, turning back to you. "Only the death of Slayers. But that does not mean we are ungrateful. Belegar may be young and impetuous, but victory needs no apologies."
"Utonki," you greet him with scandalous familiarity, and the scowl he shoots you lasts only until he sets eyes on your cargo. A satisfied smile spreads across his face.
"A generous gift, from an unexpected quarter." Daroir smiles in anticipation. "It is a rare gambit of Teclis that does not bear fruit. I am glad to see the blossoming of this flower."
"Good." He prods one of the fangs of the skull, then passes it back to you. "Great, in fact.
he sighs. "Never mind. Now, you've been turning heads. Bad business, that was. Normally their own jealousy and paranoia prevents them from just mass-producing necromancers, but there's always going to be exceptions and it's a damn good thing you caught it before it had a chance to bloom. So partly because of that and partly because 'Court Wizard to a Dwarfhold' has been raising an eyebrow or two, it's been decided that you're to be given full access to Battle Magic."
Finally you experience the extremely disconcerting sensation of changing your position between one instant and the next, and smile with pride as Regimand claps you on the shoulder,
"'Mundane'. Good qualifier."
He returns it. "You've become quite a credit to the College. Keep it up, young Magister."
There's a moment of silence. "Aye, we likely will," Kazador says at last. He claps you once on the shoulder, then turns and leaves.
"Suitable," he admits after long scrutiny. "Not how I prefer things, but suitable.
"Hmph," he finally says, which is Kragg for 'of course it's not as good as I'd like, but its flaws are not serious enough for me to completely disregard it'.
"Fine work," Kragg says, leaning against the parapet and gazing out at a sea of ash in satisfaction.
"You're welcome to join me in the unenviable task of watching instead of doing, but now more than ever I've faith that you know how best you can contribute."
Algard approaches you one evening. "Very fine work, Magister.
He exhales, and a tiny amount of the tension seems to go out of him. "Thank you," he says simply.
He sighs again. "Thank you. Once more I am in your debt."

Normally, you love to be praised in this matter. Today it leaves you cold.
Everything changed in a single day, and thanks to every Dwarf and man and Halfling but especially thanks to Loremaster Mathilde, we did not only survive, but we have won.
Even you hunt, and you are the most-Echo of the not-We, who must know how only one you are."
"This could... no, this will save lives. Probably a lot of them.
You dropped this one in the classified pile, right?" You nod again. "Good. Bloody rats." A few more gestures, and that report disappears. "And a third... Winning the War Below? I suppose you've earned some hubris," he says with a smile,
He turns his attention back to the book. "This is astounding work, Magister. And it's about to make the War Below a lot more interesting. Most will never learn of this, and even fewer will know that it was done by you, but those that matter will."
"I hate this," he finally says, glaring at the pool meant to be filled with heartsblood. "I hate it almost as much as I hate the idea of an unchecked Ice Dragon. Good work. I'll have it secured within the Citadel, and hope it never sees use."
"Your ascent through the ranks has been meteoric," he says, consulting a sheet of encoded notes, "but unlike most who could be described that way, there seems to be no doubts as to your loyalty or worthiness. Your service to the late and lamented Hunter-Count was impeccable, as has been your assistance to his daughter, even when you had every reason and excuse not to. And your continued aid to the Dwarf-folk has been quite the exemplar.
You are to be commended for your diligence, and for your ability to forge ties with the Dwarves - which I can attest is no small feat."
He nods. "You're too useful to be lost on impossible revanchism."
"Blood Dragons with rusted swords." She smothers a giggle with her stein. "That does help. Thank you."
"May you bring them as much fortune as you brought us," Belegar says with a nod.
If the Karaz Ankor has a future, it is alongside the men of the Empire, as High King Kurgan Ironbeard decreed so long ago. So I sent you."
You complete your circuit, and see an empty eighth chair in the circle surrounding you. "And now yours. Take a seat, Lady Magister Weber."
"We had planned to let you season a few more years," Algard says with a smile, "but if you're going into hell, it's only proper you shall do so in the rank you have earned."
"If you need to rest, you've done your share and then some.
"You manlings are full of surprises," he says, turning to look at you.
"Won't ask how you did it, but I'm glad you did," he says to you.
"Well," he eventually says, "I suppose that's why I haven't encountered it before. That's an impressive spell to have made from scratch."
"Maybe more than slightly," you hear Borek mutter to himself behind you, and your smile widens.
"Yha, did not quite reach the handle. You did well, tovaritch. Za-Nekulturny would have been bothersome."

(I'm very impressed at the capacity and memory of the multi quote function, by the way.)

If its not here its cause it didn't meet my Very Strict And Official Criteria For Headpats, and definitely not because I missed it or anything.

As for why I did this. Well its cause, ah. Hm. Actually why did I do this?
 
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The Abelhelmeid
This isn't mythology, this is Aeneid-like fan fiction.
all mythology is Aeneid- like fanfiction, according to some theories.
Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc'd by fate,
And careless Electors' words of weight,
Bold and bound, came to the Stir's shore.
Long labours, both by sword and wit, he bore,
And in the doubtful war, before he won
The Sylvanian realm, and reclaimed the curs'd town;
His banish'd kin restor'd to rights divine,
And settled sure succession in his line,
From whence the face of Stirland's Counts come,
And the long glories of Van Hals' home.
O Sigmar! the causes and the crimes relate;
What plot was provok'd, and whence his fate;
For what offence the God of Empire began
To abandon so brave, so just a man;
Involv'd his anxious life in endless cares,
Expos'd to wants, and hurried into wars!
Can heav'nly minds such high resentment show,
Or exercise their spite in human woe?

 
Even Further Beyond
Mathilde is best friends with the God of sneakiness and deceit, wielder of the wind of skullduggery and ambiguity, and prefers to solve issues via assassination.

Dwarves value reliability, honesty, being straightforward, and generally dealing with problems head on.

By all rights she and they should only interact in the matter and anti-matter sense.

Instead, well.

-Defends her fallen liege alone against impossible odds, then goes on to fulfill her Oaths to him-
-In doing so, causes the destruction of Castle Drakenhoff-
-Joins the Expedition for Karak Eight Peaks-

Mathilde: This is a Dawongr.

-Rides to every corner of the Old World in order to recruit more for the Expedition-
-Causes Und-Uzgar to be taken with no casualties-
-Kills enemy heroes at the Battle of the East Gate-
-'Scouts' Karag Lhune, and in doing so destroys their artillery, their traps, their Warboss, and causes the entire tribe to descend into more infighting than usual-
-All that bullshit at Karag Nar-
-Makes the plan to prevent reinforcements from the Caldera-
-Counters the enemy Shaman, and in doing so robs the entire horde of their Waaagh, winning the battle-

Mathilde: This is a Dawongr that has surpassed a Dawongr- a Super-Dawongr if you will.

-Takes on position of Loremaster for King Belegar-
-Facilitates communication with the We-
-Completely maps the Under-Citadel, retrieving a suit of Gromril Plate in the process-

-Kills Alkharad and his entire College of Necromancy-
-Assassinates Warboss of Kara-gril, then most candidates to become next Warboss-
-Builds the Eye of Gazul, in cooperation with many others-
-Takes command when the powder keg that is K8P explodes in glorious fashion-
-Leads K8P into the reclamation of the remaining five peaks with minimal casualties, including negotiating a nonaggression pact with a Dragon, scouting out most of the Karak, taking the last Mors hold-out personally, and assassinating an Emissary of the Council of 13-
-Fires the Eye of Gazul, killing half a million greenskins-

Mathilde: And this is what it means-

-Translates Queekish-
-Use of AV to recharge Anvils of Doom-
-Assists in Karag Dum expedition, recruiting two knightly orders, many wizards, and Asarnil-
(Ranald: And entirely selflessly, too!)
Mathilde: To Go-

-Rescue At Skull River, wherein she personally saves the lives of over 300 Dawi craftsmen, including their guildmaster-
(Ranald: At great personal risk for every single one!)

Mathilde: Even Further Beyond!

-V L A G-
(Ranald: Ain't she the greatest?)
Mathilde: KISSMYASSTOBAROOOOOOOOOOOOO-


-Dawihood Achieved-
 
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We Already Have One At Home
An amusing though came to me after all the comparison between Mathy and Sigmar, and the attempt to one up him:


*note that this user does not show any actual thought on the comparison, and indeed does not recommend one upping sigmar.
Aka please don't try and off Nagash.
 
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The Magic-User's Dilemma
now Mathilde won't bring Sir Basket Weaver and it'll turn out there'll be a door at the hold only opened by perfectly-weaved baskets or something.
sadly, sir basket weaver only knows how to do underwater basket weaving, and there's no open water near the norse holds

Ahm, please check before you read the rest, for those who do not know the source.
Something cool that came to my mind when i heard underwater basket weaving, don't know if that was what referred, but whatever.
Of course i went a little overboard.
Relevent xkcd as always
Music song's version
Another version With piano
third <- easiest to follow i believe
Original tone to every major general



Every magic's terrible

Aqshy is just fire sans rigor, sense and practicality
And Azyr is star gazing unconstrained by precepts of reality
A Golden Order's membership is just a thing you get to graduate
And Ghur is just for beast collectors high on mushroom accelerate

Why anyone would want a job as Amethyst is a mystery
Unless their only other choice was something like Jade's druid history
A Magistership in Hysh guarantees that you'll achieve
A little less that if you learned to underwater basket-weave

I'd rather eat a Dhar's taint then master in wood elves ecology
And Druchii dark arts are worse than either the Druchii or darkology
The thought of aspecting to any one of these is too unbearable
Just put me down as undivided every magic's terrible

Now, if you can't Prognosticate that's okay in Slann magicry
But if your hindsight's weak as well you'd best stick to theology
Rune lore will make each day a quest to find the missing crave-paren
And Nurgle lore will guarantee you'll never get a hug again

Tzeentch lore prepare you for a life of scheming plots nonstop
As Morr said, "Necromancy is just magic slowed with corpses on top"
Though Slaanesh lore seems to promise a playboy like career
the warp page for "Slaanesh favor" redirects for Ulgu party tricks

They say to study Tomb King Theology or find yourself repeating it
But all that it prepares you is for forever more guarding pyramids
I recognize my four-decades plan for ascension at this point not amendable
But put me down as undivided - every Magic's terrible

Hedgewise all cringe when they hear Empire or Articles
and Gut magic a no go I'm a huge germaphobic
I'm too haemophobiaic to consider vampire therapy
And i can't stomach any part of skavenology

While pre-high magic gives you twitchy-eyed obsession with your Wind balance
A degree in atheism bespeaks bewildering naivete
Dame Weber behind the rush into ulgu showmanshipery
(Or so claim Ranald the Protector with his divine magic fuckery)

By dubbing Lore of the Lady as "dismal magic" adherents exaggerate;
The "dismal's fine - it's "magic" where they patently prevaricate
In terms of choices, I'd say only Magnus's was comparable
Just put me down as "undivided" - every magic's terrible!



Philosophy's just math sans rigor, sense, and practicality
Aqshy is just fire sans rigor, sense and practicality
And math's just physics unconstrained by precepts of reality
And Azyr is star gazing unconstrained by precepts of reality
A business major's just a thing you get so you can graduate
A Golden order's membership is just a thing you get to graduate
And chemistry's for stamp collectors high on methyl acetate
And Ghur is just for beast collectors high on mushroom accelerate.
Why anyone who wants a job would study lit's a mystery
Why anyone would want a job as amethyst is a mystery
Unless their only other choice were something like art history
Unless their only other choice was something like jade's druid history
A BA in communications guarantees that you'll achieve
A BA in Hysh guarantees that you'll achieve
A little less than if you learned to underwater basket-weave
A little less that if you learned to underwater basket-weave
I'd rather eat a Fowler's toad than major in biology
I'd rather eat a Dhar's taint then master in wood elves ecology
And social psych is worse than either pysch or sociology
And Druchii dark arts are worse than either the Druchii or darkology
The thought of picking any one of these is too unbearable
The thought of aspecting any one of these is too unbearable
Just put me down as "undecided" - every major's terrible
Just put me down as undivided every magic's terrible
Now, if you can't prognosticate that's okay in seismology
Now, if you can't Prognosticate that's okay in slann magicry
But if your hindsight's weak as well, you'd best stick to theology
But if your hindsight's weak as well you'd best stick to theology
CS will make each day a quest to find a missing close-paren
Rune lore will make each day a quest to find the missing crave-paren
Virology will guarantee you'll never get a hug again
And nurgle lore will guarantee you'll never get a hug again
I.T. prepares you for a life of fighting with PC's nonstop
Tzeentch lore prepare you for a life of scheming plots nonstop
As Pratchett said, "Geography's just physics slowed with trees on top"
As Morr said, "Necromancy is just magic slowed with corpses on top
Though physics seems to promise you a Richard Feynman-like career
Though Slannesh lore seems to promise a playboy career
The wiki page for "Physics major" redirects to engineer
the wrap page for "slaanesh favor" redirects for ulgu casting
They say study history or find yourself repeating it
They say to study Tomb King Theology or find yourself repeating it
But all that it prepares you for is forty years of teaching it
But all that it prepares you is for forever more guarding pyramids
I recognize my four-year plan's at this point not repairable
I recognize my four-decades plan for ascension at this point not amendable
But put me down as "undecided" - every major's terrible
But put me down as undivided - every Magic's terrible
Astronomers all cringe when they hear "supermoon" or "zodiac"
Hedgewise all cringe when they hear empire or articles
Agronomy's a no-go; I'm a huge agoraphobiac
and Gut magic a no go I'm a huge germaphobic
I'm too ophiophobic to consider herpetology
I'm to Haemophobia to consider vampire therapy
And I can't stomach any part of gastroenterology
And i can't stomach any part of skavenology
While pre-med gives you twitchy-eyed obsession with your GPA
While pre-high magic gives you twitchy-eyed obsession with your Wind balance
A poetry degree bespeaks bewildering naïveté
A degree in atheism bespeaks bewildering naivete
TV's behind the rush into forensic criminology
Dame weber behind the rush into ulgu showmanshipery
(Or so claims meta-academic epidemiology)
(Or so claim Ranald the protector with his fuckery)
By dubbing econ "dismal science" adherents exaggerate;
By dubbing Lore of the Lady as "dismal magic" adherents exaggerate;
The "dismal's" fine - it's "science" where they patently prevaricate
The "dismal's: fine - it's "magic" where they patently prevaricate
In terms of choices, I'd say Sophie's was comparable
In terms of choices, I'd say only Magnus's was comparable
Just put me down as "undecided" - every major's terrible!
Just put me down as "undivided" - every magic's terrible!
 
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Asarnil's Hype Ballad
Mathilde hyping Asarnil up before the fight, probably:


Your weak gods are vastly inferior
That simple fact is plainly obvious to see
We're gonna kick your collective posterior
Of course you realize we're speaking beyond literally
Our kills are thoroughly impressive
Our elf really has the Midas touch
Our warriors are fast and strong and brave
And your guys, eh, not so much

In fact we've fought tribes across the whole steppes
And you're the worst one we've come across
Try to assimilate that information
And it just might help you cope with your impending loss
Oh, and if somehow we are still failing
To effectively articulate the points at hand
Allow us now to summarize them in a manner
That your feeble brains can understand

We're great (we're great)
And you suck (you suck)
We're great (we're great)
And you suck (you suck)
We're great (we're great)
And you suck (you suck)
You see there's us (we're great)
And then there's you (you suck)
We're really, really great (really great)
In contrast, you really suck (really suck)
Okay, full disclosure, we're in fact that great
And nevertheless, you suck

Your weak gods will soon suffer swift defeat
That theory's backed up by empirical evidence
We're gonna grind up your guys into burger meat
Again, of course, we're speaking in the most literal sense
What's the use of even going through the motions
When you know that you're gonna lose anyhow
So why don't you save us all some time
And give up now (you suck!)

(With credit to Weird Al for Sports Song, and many apologies for my blatant laziness)
 
Asarnil's Other Hype Ballad
I honestly tried singing it to "Be Prepared" at first...
Well if that's your idiom:

When you attend a funeral
It is sad to think that sooner o'
Later those you love will do the same for you

And you may have thought it tragic
Not to mention other adjec-
Tives, to think of all the weeping they will do
But don't you worry
All now ashes, no more sackcloth
And an armband made of black cloth
Will some day never more adorn a sleeve

For if the Dragon that drops on you
Gets your friends and neighbors too
There'll be nobody left behind to grieve

And you will all go together when you go
What a comforting fact that is to know
Universal bereavement
An inspiring achievement
Yes, you all will go together when you go

You will all go together when you go
All suffuse with an incandescent glow
No one will have the endurance
To collect on his insurance
Nurgle's halls will be loaded when you go

Oh, you will all fry together when you fry
You'll be elf fried potatoes by and by
There will be no more misery
When the world is your rotisserie
Yes, you will all fry together when you fry

Down by the old maelstrom
There'll be a storm before the calm

And you will all bake together when you bake
There'll be nobody present at the wake
With complete participation
In that grand incineration
Nearly three thousand hunks of well-done steak

Oh, you will all char together when you char
And let there be no moaning of the bar
Just sing out a Te Deum
When you see that I.C.D.M.*
And the party will be come-as-you-are

Oh, you will all burn together when you burn
There'll be no need to stand and wait your turn
When it's time for the fallout
And the Four gods call you all out
You'll just drop your agendas and adjourn

You will all go directly to your respective Chaos Hells
Go directly, do not pass go, do not collect a worthy tale to tell

And you will all go together when you go
Every Baersonling and every Kurgan lo
When the air becomes aqshyous
And you will all go simultaneous
Yes you all will go together
When you all go together
Yes, you all will go together when you go

*Incoming Complete Dragon Massacre

Tom Lehrer. We will all go together when we go. New heights of lazy ass word swapping.
 
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