The Thirteen
Sit there my friends and drink your piss ale,
And let us fine friends spin you a tale!
Of women and men and not, oh so bold
Of whom fantastical stories are told! (they’re called lies!)
Some call us scoundrels, or knaves, or vagrants or worse! (oh so worse!)
And, true, there are those among us who have cut the odd purse.
But don’t judge us too harshly for the bad deeds that we’ve done,
For in defense of the world, we Thirteen never run! (never run!)
...
So lift up your pints, boys, and girls, lift your skirts, (lift ‘em all!)
For the coming of folk so noble your poor hearts will hurt! (oh, they hurt!)
But as we get sloshed and wretch and look to give up, (give up!?)
Fret not over us, till we’re on our thirteenth cup! (one more round!)
And let us fine friends spin you a tale!
Of women and men and not, oh so bold
Of whom fantastical stories are told! (they’re called lies!)
Some call us scoundrels, or knaves, or vagrants or worse! (oh so worse!)
And, true, there are those among us who have cut the odd purse.
But don’t judge us too harshly for the bad deeds that we’ve done,
For in defense of the world, we Thirteen never run! (never run!)
...
So lift up your pints, boys, and girls, lift your skirts, (lift ‘em all!)
For the coming of folk so noble your poor hearts will hurt! (oh, they hurt!)
But as we get sloshed and wretch and look to give up, (give up!?)
Fret not over us, till we’re on our thirteenth cup! (one more round!)
Disbandment
The Thirteen perished in the War of Old Avalon, the only elves to respond to Büteel's call for aid.
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