There once were two brawlers,
who felt that they could fight,
They joined the ivory mark,
To champion for what's right.

They took contracts, I presume,
though I really could be wrong,
They only fight in teams, you see,
Since they really aren't that strong.

When confronted with fair fights, however,
it seems neither is a man,
To temples first, and safe rooms later,
Our two champions ran.

And there they stay, just sitting there,
Mark title they still wear,
Yet how, I ask, can they champion,
If the talent isn't there?

So keep your doll, with so few fashions,
Yet no temple left to hide in,
My child, you go to Minia,
where you will find your kin.

And Rhaegar I am afraid,
you bring shame to your class,
You are nothing like the real combatants,
Irzadi, RT and Das.

Sapience think before you hire them,
of whom over they can loom,
not many I would reckon,
from the joys of their safe room.

Grow spines, my two young friends,
and one day we will meet,
I look forward to the day you taste,
more humiliation and defeat.

With love to you both, Rhaegar and Azazello, I hope the Lady of Sin has
seen you for who you truly are,
-Sir Deridius Ikari-Lichlord.

Penned by my hand on the 16th of Sarapin, in the year 396 AF.