Bardy song.

A voice suddenly began to sing.

"You ask where you are, stranger?

This is a land of strife and danger.

Gwladda its name and great its good

A land of dell and swamp and wood

You ask why you're here, oh Dieithryn,

I cannot tell of all the great sin

Just be sure to watch your back

Sing on pitch and steal what you lack

You ask what, and who is speaking

Whom the fear is in you wreaking

I am a Bard, great, loved and feared

I am worshipped like a god, revered

A Bard you ask, why, don't you know?

I'm praised and honored where e'er I go

Be warned, be warned, for evil comes

To those who heed not the song I strum."

There was a silence. He stood, staring openmouthed.

"Not my best work," said the voice, "and not in the traditional rhyme scheme, but I had very little time, you must understand." He felt that he could never speak again. It was all too ridiculous for words.