Have a mug of ale, my friend, and find yourself a seat
There's not much here but Dwarven stout and armadillo meat
It's cold and tough, and only Trolls would say it is delicious
So to take your thoughts away, I'll sing of Aloysius!
Born within the city walls of Freeport, standing proud
Barely out of diapers, while the guards they laughed aloud
Young Aloysius chased large rats and choked them with his hands
And wrestled with the rattlesnakes that twisted o'er the sands
One day he stumbled on a find that changed his very life
The corpse of some mad wanderer, his water, and a knife
With this newfound rusty blade he fought at last with grace
More rat meat on the barbecue, no bite marks on his face
Before too long this feisty lad laid hand upon a sword
And charged into the desert wastes, but quickly he was gored
Upon the dirk of Dorn B'Dynn, the warrior learned a lesson
He'd learned to parry and to thrust, but needed help with dressin'
Though as humble as could be, the son of a mere farmer
One who heard his woeful tale donated for some armor
Now he felt invincible inside this fine plate shell
But Dorn B'Dynn spared little time in sending him to Hell
The clerics of the temple of the good Mithaniel Marr
Summoned Aloysius and his soul from lands afar
Bringing him to life again, though at a costly price
The vicar in the temple offered up some good advice
"Though courage is a virtue, and we praise such in this hall,
I recommend, with your dim wits, you start with something small"
So Aloysius humbly left to hunt more likely prey
But vowed upon his honor he would have revenge one day.
