Author's note: If you so wish, you may hum the 'Knights of the Round Table' from Monty Python as you read this poem.
We're the Knights of Drin, able
to drink you under the table!
We'll take the ales
in our splint mails
to release behind the stable -
it reeks some time there afterwards
but it's cosier than Dalair-woods!
(In-between-dance on the tables of the Golden Ducat)
We're the Knights of the Drin, label'd
orc foes quite formid-able!
Those Scyther fiends
just share, it seems,
what we'd call skills from fable:
They do quite well in fairy tales
but with us, it's rather different scaaaales...