And so Ashtani said to me
"we're going to destroy Mhaldor's icons
because they will pay for their crimes."
It was then I thought
"Boy I could sure go for a piece of pie."
I tried to sneak out,
craving a nice slice of apple,
but my city needed help,
and my craving would cease.

"I wonder if Mhaldor's icon is pie." I thought.
As when I first arrived to Ashtan,
I was told ours was a giant steak.
I beat up the fool who pulled my leg.
Although battle ready, and hardened for war,
I went down faster than the soup
I had eaten for lunch that day.

I tried everything just for a slice,
and each time, I paid for it with my life.
Despondant, I fell asleep at NOT,
and woke up with a knife in my back.
Her name was Isheria, I think,
and I could tell she hated pie.
I couldn't understand what she said very well.

"Blah blah, Mhaldor, Blah blah,
blah blah pie sucks blah,
blah blah look at my biceps."
Five minutes she went on,
and I swore I heard a lyre
play on its own in the background.

Now you could bamboozle me,
you could make a speech near me,
and you could even kill me.
But you NEVER ever mess with my pie.
And boy was I mad,
mad enough to kill,
or just mad enough to whine about it.

So I dragged it on,
it turned into a vicious battle where
many lives were lost and I myself
suffered from pie withdrawl.
But it all now boils down to this,
this is how it all ends.

But maybe one of you guys will give me some pie?


Penned by my hand on the 5th of Valnuary, in the year 573 AF.