The Maiden of Alrash
A cautionary tale about the dangers of Alrasian honey-dips. By Aeran Winterleaf.
A maiden from Alrash The subject of my wonder And also the rash That is down under Fatbuttum Silverblade Second of her name Although I’m not afraid to admit I paid I still felt flayed And on the morrow My wallet empty, my needs fulfilled To my horror, I gaze upon her My eyes were unskilled The ale must have gotten to me For that was no wench But King Syrio, pretty as a flea But oh, his stench!