That would give him glory, beyond comparrison.
As the hero quests about the land;
The Jester does most of the work.
Slaying enemies, left, right and center;
He's quite adept at tarot you know.
The jester you see, once held great power;
A king's joker, you see, giving glee to one and all.
Silvestri, so it was, hit a nick of trouble;
His companion, you see, had stepped into a trap.
"The Sentinals those, those...";
SIlvestri vented his rage on a tree.
By freak coincedence, he heard a thud;
A Sentinal kneeling, cluthing his temples.
"Why'd you do that?!", the Sentinal raged;
And with that, a black jack, knocked the Sentinal dead.
This isn't a tale, of romantic love;
Nor that of heroism beyond all belief.
But just an out of work Jester;
Who was sober after 50 pints!

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Glacian, in the year 322 AF.