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Deep within the depths of Molten Core
the source of both Dark Iron ale and ore,
two pansy blood elves were having a chat
inside the grim guzzler, in which they sat
they were chugging down pints, and speaking in thalassian
and on the table, rested the severed head of Nefarian
“It was hard, damn dragon refused to die” thus I said
Carasar nodded “Best we hope this kill get us well paid…”


How hard I laugh of those
fools and the values they chose
“The light is weak,
feeble and meek!”
That’s what I always say
and there’s no way for you to sway
me. Paladins are a bunch of spineless sissies.
Justice? Righteousness? Please…

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