In the taverns around Daggerfall a song has begun to be sung, credited to the bard Brennan of Avencar- it's a cheerful song with a tragic story called "The Breton who Thought She was an Orc."
The Breton who thought she was an Orc
A ballad by Brennan of Avencar
In fair High Rock was born a girl
Whose hair hung low in flaming curls
With a heart as fiery as her hair,
She’d fight any man, anywhere.
Her mother looked in horror,
Because sewing merely bored her.
She said “I’ll be a great orc chief!
With gnarled arms and pointy teeth!”
And when the army marched to war,
She said “This is what I waited for!”
She’d kill a thousand men,
And a thousand thousand again.
“And I’ll take a pair of men,” She cried,
“And make them into my forge-wives!”
But though she asked each soldier,
No two would share the right to hold her.
And when the day of battle came
She stood with sword and fiery mane.
The enemy tramped nearer,
And then they promptly speared her.
So heed me well, the lesson, of course,
Is that Bretons should not try to be orcs