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!