[pnpgm] Dorhak

[Dorhak]

Dorhak is shocked to see the shogging plants attacking!  He lays about with his mace, wishing he had his axe handy, but there wasn't time to grab it.  He'll do his best to help the others.

"The shogging plants are alive!"

Then he starts singing while he fights!

Come, come! Saucy wenches and good mannered fellows,
That love to drink ale in a horn!
We'll sing racy songs, now that we're mellow,
Which Dwarves sung 'ere we were born!
For this bottle, the Fates, they be thanked,
Even though they line our pockets with brass,
We'd sooner suck ale through a nappy ol' blanket,
Than thimbles of wine from a glass!

Away with your small, proud thimbles of glasses!
Of wines humans and elves do supply.
We dwarves never ne'er drink to the lasses,
Over draughts scarce enough for a fly!
Club us with the miner and ditcher,
Or herder that makes his own horn,
To join us o'er bottle or pitcher,
Foaming o'er with essence of corn.

We care not a whit, with whom we get tipsy,
Or where with brown stout we regale,
We'll even weather the storm with a gypsy,
If he be a lover of ale.
We'll weather the toughest storm weary,
Although we get soaked to the skin,
If the outside of our home looks dreary,
Know we are right warm and happy within!"