It started as whispers and tea,
A club for the wounded, you see.
But Ulvin arrived,
And the rumors survived:
"This club might become an army."

They gather with stories and scars,
With poems and laughter in bars.
What began as a jest
Grew louder than the rest-
A chorus that rattles the stars.

So fund it with ink and good cheer,
Because 500000 gold is expensive,
For heartbreak has strange souvenirs.

If Jarpa keeps roaming,
Leaving hearts in the foaming,
The army will grow every year.

Penned by my hand on the 25th of Scarlatan, in the year 999 AF.