Debuted this past Saturday at Meridian War Muster, May 2008. FYI, Giollapadhreag is pronounced “Kilpatrick” just like it’s spelled (per Corwin).
Come round, my dear friends, as I tell you a tale
About my friend Corwin Giollapadhreag,
A man most sincere, and an Honorable Lord,
But one with a penchant for slapstick.
While taking his studies a long time ago,
He leaned toward the revels and parties,
And though, quite a noble and worthy young lord,
His taste for fine mead was quite hearty.
But much as it happens, there was quite a boar,
A brutish young gentle most tiring,
Who made his way into the taverns and halls
Whose rev’lers, his presence, ne’er desiring.
The fortnights and seasons did pass, as they do,
And always this oaf was appearing,
When finally, Corwin, his patience run out,
Was taken with malice quite cheering.
He gathered his friends and devised quite a plan,
To welcome the lout to the feting
And make sure his tankard ne’er bottom would see
To give him a night ne’er forgetting.
The dunce, as would happen, did dance and did drink
And soon was quite inebriated
And once heavenly Morpheus had brought him to Nod
Good Corwin’s plan initiated.
He walked from the tavern and waved down a coach,
A wagon, ’twas carrying some travelers
And Corwin, he carried and loaded the drunkard,
With help from the rest of the revelers.
He placed in the hands of the driver some coin,
And told him a tale of this poor man,
Whose one only goal was to visit the King
Who lived in the Kingdom of Graceland
And onward this driver did drive through the night,
Arriving to stop by the river
And waking the lad, what a shock he did find
To realize where he’d been delivered
And as luck would have it, his pouch and his coin
Were hanging with his other surcoat
So sent he a missive to his dearest father
To send back a messenger with some groats.
Now, Corwin Giollapadhreag, a hero was crowned
As never again this boar reveled
And strangely, the dunce never could quite concieve
Just how he had come to be deviled.
So heed you my warning, intolerable foes,
In Loch Cairn your presence’s not palpable
Just ask my friend Corwin Giollapadhreag to tell you
The tale of his friend, glue, and scalpel.
