Now now, children, gather 'round, and listen to my tale,
Of the darkness and the light and how the fairest Bard can fail,
How the stammers overcame so swift her sparkling eloquence,
And I observed amusedly as nay her rhymes made sense.

How many dwell within this land, between the ocean and the sand,
Between the forests and the sky, that claim to know the songs,
Of the good, the bad, the glad, the sad, the right deeds and the wrongs,
I'll take you on and take you down, in wilderness or town.

My words flow from an honest heart, a speedy mind, a razor wit,
Well-sharpened on your dull skulls, and prepared to speak a bit,
Upon the topics of your choice, I'll bring my thoughts and bring my
voice,
And sing Enorian's Angels till my skills they all rejoice.

I'm Artifex, the Thinker, and the Forger of the Words,
Just as hammers fall on anvils and small eggs hatch into birds,
If you need a song or dance or just a three-act play,
I'll be there as swift as sunrise, at the dawning of the day.

So bring your best lays, one and all, and challenge you my might,

But beware lest one you thought to best sends you off in a fright.

-Arty-

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Haernos, in the year 136 MA.