I once was a happy Occultist
Who did whatever I pleased
I hunted down the ogre children
I slew them on their knees
I bashed the Shastaan women
And their fisher-husbands too
My soul was black as Abbadon
I was an Occie through and through

My only thoughts were of the guild
my Demiurge and my mates
We'd work and learn and laugh together
Get high and fornicate
I lacked for nothing
And my happiness was rife
Until lightning struck me -
Within an inch of my life.

The lightning bolt came in the form of a girl
A wee and sprightly lass
She laughed and giggled and pounced and wiggled
She never did anything crass
She wore a black miniskirt
And her eyes were deepest blue
She had a grin that would light up an Occie's night
A sweet smile that said she'd be true.

We walked the shore of Lake Vundamere
Arm in arm, hand in hand
When she would laugh and smile at me
I would feel so grand
She made me feel that I was more than myself
More than I'd ever mentioned
I grew to love and cherish her
I even became well-intentioned.

We made love under the star-lit night
Out in the open, under the breeze
She was a warm shelter, an inviting solace
But I remember now she was ill-at-ease
I gave her my heart that night
As I gave her my body and mind
And as I bid her a reluctant farewell
I had no idea what I would find...

When I got back! Alas and alack!
Here in this very same spot, this hallowed, cherished land
I found her: same sweet smile, my sweetheart
Dallying with another man!
My jealous rage rose from the depths of the Under King
And as I rose to strike, and the skies turned grey
She smote me with a dagger to my heart
A single line: "Chancre, he's my fiance."

I fled the hallowed ground
To the rumble of thunder heralding my doom
Cruel wind shrieking against my tear-stained eyes
My life's blood gushing from my mortal wound
Wracked with pain, Death came for me -
Ravenous like a ghoul, blacker... meaner...
I welcomed Death
With 30 shots of tequila.

My mind shattered by jealousy and rage
My heart broken by love gone awry
This then,
Is the moral of my story:
Women will be the death of you, boys,
Flee them, listen to me
And if you're ever lonesome
Go hug a humgii.


Written with the blood from my bleeding heart
Chancre Angelline

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Midautumn, in the year 72 MA.