The Tale of Sir Alyx

- It’s said, Sir Alyx was a knight renowned,

so the maidens and jousting halls resound.

Where’er he went he'd be offered favors.

“Please savor my buns, they have great flavor”

the lasses said, as he relished the sound.

-

- And from village to town Sir Alyx roamed,

never once stopping and thinking of home.

For where’er he went, he was met with cheers.

Men in the taverns would all raise their beers,

and toast the day Sir Alyx killed the gnome.

-

- So high on his horse Sir Alyx would ride,

wreaking a trail of destruction beside.

“Three cheers for Sir Alyx, hip hip hooray!”

from hither and yon, the people would say.

Still, nothing changed the way he was inside.

-

- Whispers implied, he was cold and distant.

No matter how the ladies persisted,

showing off dresses of lace and velvet,

Alyx never would take off his helmet.

They found each single advance resisted.

-

- Day in and day out, he built up his fame,

‘till every person around knew his name.

And because he’d spread his deeds far and wide,

Sir Alyx had found, he’d nowhere to hide,

challengers ‘round every corner to maim.

-

- And so every day he’d stand in the field.

A sword in one hand, the other a shield.

Brutes from the north and west tried to beat him.

Those from the south found none could defeat him,

nor the deadly blade Sir Alyx would wield.

-

- But of all this death, Sir Alyx was tired.

He had found himself depressed and quite mired,

the toll from years of being on the road.

So Alyx resigning not to implode,

figured that it was high time he’d retired.

-

- Alyx’s journey had been such a blur,

who he was inside, he’d become unsure.

But then, our hero quickly remembered

whom he was with his armor dismembered.

Sir Alyx was a Lady, not a Sir.