Author's Note: this originally started as a chapter-heading poem for my Engineer story, but in the end I decided it was too off-topic for inclusion there. So you get to enjoy it as a one-shot instead.


You may talk o' omnomberries

And your Sword so Legendary,

Getting' dailies all along the Queensdale Train;

But when it comes to PvP

Well you know as well as me

That you'll lick my bloomin' boots in the Arena.

In the Mist's dank, foggy clime,

Where I like to spend my time

Stabbing flags into your Midnight Fire cuirass,

I may trashtalk you in chat.

Dungeons taught you that "combat?"

'Cause the only thing I do is PvP.

And it's "P! V! P!"

The casual fighters flee from PvP!

Sure, our gold collection's dire

An' our rank ain't getting' higher

Since we maxed it out at Dragon. PvP!

The armor that I wear,

I guess you'd call it spare

As I have no fancy colors for to dye it,

An' my blade is rather plain

Because forging is a pain

An' I waste my time and mats when e'er I try it.

'Stead of gath'ring karka shells

I'd rather go to hell;

I'll take on Grenth in Niflhel or in Kyhlo,

Then I'll mop 'im on the floor

Beat him five hundred to four

-Though in Sky Hammer I hear that he's a maestro.

And it's "P! V! P!"

World v. World's okay with me – still PvP.

My blue tag shows I'm Commander,

'Cross the map I shall meander

While an army of three thousand follow me.