Not Warhammer, but written for a fantasy world of our own at the request of a friend who wished some Dwarven songs to dive deep into Dwarven minds and culture for a book project of his. Based upon a small portion of Icelandic saga Njal's sons. Move thread if necessary.

Lay of Kardvun Dire

"Shush! Gather! Drape fur 'cross shoulders and sit all 'ere around. The hearth's fire sparkles o'er barken logs, and yet our alescum gushes high in horns. It will sink as eve ages.

Hear me! See me! Know me!

Steel in sheath. Clansfolk answers friend with gold and foe with grief.
Embers dim. Remember long good service, and avenge all grudges grim.
Knots bind. For help taken, help given. For fell deeds done, reply in kind.

Hear me. See me. Know me.

Kin and blood are worth your life. To honour broken returns no wife.
Beards o' vaunt but staunchest stock. Oathbreaker owns but ill-shamed lock.
Stand strong in storm, come fame in stone. Yield for fear, grind your bone.

Hear me. See me. Know me.

In times o' yore, in olden day,
in ancient age with roughen way.
Our clans were fierce an' harsh an' proud,
'twixt dales our horns rang oaths aloud.
Words on wind tell of bounds forged,
yet pledges of feud were also wrought.
Hear the calls and echoes sound,
earnest to put dwarf 'low mound.
In times o' yore, in olden day,
in ancient age with roughen way.

Our saga starts with recompense,
yet gold held back soon robbed all sense.
As Hjalturn Coalbrow raised his axe,
when further his complaints couldn't wax.
Denying blame, Öjvur the miser met bane,
sooner die than return his ill-gotten gain.
For a crack in sold tool, faultily forged,
saw skull caved-in by axe, head gorged.
Our saga starts with recompense,
yet gold held back soon robbed all sense.

News reached kin of Öjvur, sons of Mjarn,
and whole clan gathered, hid in barn.
Young and old called blood for blood,
spoken oaths, lest shame in mud.
They sworn to vengeance claim by dead,
yet bided well by broken head.
For clan's thane Kardvun knew thus well,
to dull foes' guard by waiting spell.
News reached kin of Öjvur, sons of Mjarn,
and whole clan gathered, hid in barn.

Year dragged on with no arms raised,
no clans of Mjarn and Galdrun faced.
Yet anvils rang and bellows heaved,
axes sharpened, chainmails sleeved.
Shields were made and helmets struck,
hands were tested, runes brought luck.
Sought advice, elder words're heard,
autumn came, thane Kardvun stirred.
Year dragged on with no arms raised,
no clans of Mjarn and Galdrun faced.

Now friends and clan of Mjarn at last,
mustered were all by horn's blast.
Marched by dawn and day and dusk,
ate roast boar swine down to husk.
In darken night surround they did,
the mineyard where clan Galdrun hid.
A ring of warriors, grim to see,
come to claim the feuding fee.
Now friends and clan of Mjarn at last,
mustered were all by horn's blast.

For the sake of Öjvur miser's death,
sworn of Mjarn roared out their breath.
As shields were brandished, axes raised,
doors were cut down by grudge-crazed.
Locks were broken, hinges bent,
as warriors all their wild force lent.
Pressing into narrow gates,
come to claim foe's cursed fates.
For the sake of Öjvur miser's death,
sworn of Mjarn roared out their breath.

Yet tide did turn and shieldwall held,
best young sons of Mjarn were felled.
The kin of Hjalturn Coalbrow shone,
of glory in their halls of stone.
In battle clan of Galdrun surged,
hammers soon the stragglers purged.
Retaking hearth, retaking home,
brave ardour 'nough to fill a tome.
Yet tide did turn and shieldwall held,
best young sons of Mjarn were felled.

With breaching charge theirs stunted,
the sworn of Mjarn ways hunted.
Ulgarn Bearbeard said to burn,
then icily cool rock to spurn.
Cracking walls, collapsing roof,
end o' foe-cries death's sole proof.
Yet long would take for yard to break,
better quick to vengeance slake.
With breaching charge theirs stunted,
the sworn of Mjarn ways hunted.

Thane Kardvun earned his Dire,
when he said to slay by fire.
Heap birch-bark an' hay an' wood,
give spark and raise a pyre good.
Smoke to choke and flame to roast,
turning living into ghost.
Yet first stooges and maids would choose,
to 'scape mineyard or their lives lose.
Thane Kardvun earned his Dire,
when he said to slay by fire.

Most serving folk stayed true to clan,
and only few to safety ran.
Then sons of Mjarn let go o' flame,
fanning it into beams' frame.
Folk of Galdrun fought fire long,
yet all were caught in red-hot tong.
But ash and ruin left o' home,
triumphant foes its halls to roam.
Most serving folk stayed true to clan,
and only few to safety ran.

In law Kardvun sought upper hand,
for arson to be right in land.
A throng of murderers toured the dales,
guesting kin-friends 'cross the shales.
Confirming bonds, support and backing,
yet from smoke there ran one hacking.
In billowing plume a man escaped,
in burns an' flame an' ash a-draped.
In law Kardvun sought upper hand,
for arson to be right in land.

The lone survivor did grief quench,
and Ragnval swore to kin avenge.
He borrowed ram and rode by night,
seeing friends by candlelight.
Oaths were sworn by clans akin,
an' old friends to vengeance win.
Yet likewise did the sons of Mjarn,
threading aid like roughspun yarn.
The lone survivor did grief quench,
and Ragnval swore to kin avenge.

Undefied in strength arsonists fared,
across the land although eyes glared.
Araising banner for mountain thing,
their righteous deed for all to sing.
Come midwinter all folk would see,
all clan Mjarn was from blame free.
Sat proud and sure of word and deed,
Kardvun Dire on the foremost steed.
Undefied in strength arsonists fared,
across the land although eyes glared.

Come 'pon mineyard of Galdrun's friends,
a cruel jape entered, known no ends.
As Torluk jested for arsonists to tread,
to eat and sleep in foefriends' bed.
Wroth master Larkvan saw them come,
said table set for guests o' scum.
No words to greet Kardvun yet still,
invite own clan to have its swill.
Come 'pon mineyard of Galdrun's friends,
a cruel jape entered, known no ends.

Unwelcome guests then drank and ate,
as Larkvan's silent rage grew great.
Hands that murdered, feeding flame,
picked plates clean in mocking game.
Fat dripped in beards beside the mead,
arsonist guts heavy like lead.
The banes of friends torn into meat,
as household stared at foul feat.
Unwelcome guests then drank and ate,
as Larkvan's silent rage grew great.

Temper snapped and axe came forth,
as Larkvan sprang up table north.
Foehands grabbed yet clutched in vain,
for master wished for Kardvun's bane.
Raced up longtable, axe raised high,
swinging for slayer's last sigh.
Yet Kardvun Dire saw it all and yanked,
tablecloth felled Larkvan, was out-pranked.
Temper snapped and axe came forth,
as Larkvan sprang up table north.

Hands grabbed Larkvan, huscarls jailed,
tied to table him who killing failed.
Kardvun stuffed apple into master's maw,
claiming boar-swine great and fat he saw.
Then declared he sons of Mjarn to devour,
last shred of household's ale and flour.
In fear maids an' kin of Larkvan served,
as arsonists gulped food ill-deserved.
Hands grabbed Larkvan, huscarls jailed,
tied to table him who killing failed.

Yet wife of Larkvan, Huldja bold,
feigned obedience, kept head cold.
Danced with Kardvun in front o' eyes,
of husband hers, her movement lies.
And fanned the gluttons' flames night-long,
spiking mead with core-ale strong.
Thrice-distilled and toxic nigh,
guests collapsing into pie.
Yet wife of Larkvan, Huldja bold,
feigned obedience, kept head cold.

Last son of Mjarn then fainted drunk,
snored helter-skelter in sick and junk.
Took Huldja command in dark o' night,
of maids', elders' and children's plight.
Her fuming husband still to table tied,
the meek from bane-acts did not shy.
Beheading guests with their own steel,
Galdrun's friends their sworn foes did deal.
Last son of Mjarn then fainted drunk,
snored helter-skelter in sick and junk.

On sticks the heads of Mjarn were marched,
to mountain thing for ruin parched.
There friends of Kardvun faltered aid,
as avengers claimed estates unpaid.
Evicting kin of slain Mjarn's clan,
did young's revenge desire fan.
Hatred sown, the wounds afresh,
the feud writ into blood and flesh.
On sticks the heads of Mjarn were marched,
to mountain thing for ruin parched.