[Intro] (Lively acoustic guitar strumming, tavern chatter, glass clinking) (spoken) Gather 'round, ye scoundrels, ye guards, and ye knaves! Drink up, and let me tell ye of the greatest Hero Albion has ever seen! Fill your mugs! [Verse 1] From the slums of Bowerstone, a orphan did rise With the spark of the Archon shining bright in his eyes! Through the Old Tomb he fled from the Great Spire’s doom, Now he’s back with a vengeance to sweep out the gloom! He’s the Savior of Oakfield, the bane of the shadow, He fought off the banshees and cleansed the deep meadow! (Sing it with me, lads!) [Chorus] Oh, raise up your tankards to the Hero of might! The town crier sings of his deeds in the night! Call him "Avatar of Albion" or "Pied Piper" grand, The greatest defender of all of this land! (Though he’s known to kick poultry when nobody's looking!) [Verse 2] The Spire’s vile guards met the edge of his blade, And a mountain of corpses at Bloodstone he made! With three Heroes aligned, Lord Lucien shall fall, Our champion stands proud and he stands over all! Yet he flirts with the barmaids, he winks at the brides, With a grin on his face and a sword at his sides! He’s married five women, or maybe it’s nine, And we all pay him rent when we sit down to dine! Yes, he owns every cottage and shop in the square, A landlord of legends, a rich millionaire! [Chorus] So raise up your tankards to the Hero of might! The town crier sings of his deeds in the night! Call him "Chicken Chaser," "Paladin," "Ranger" so grand, The wealthiest landlord in all of the land! [Bridge] (Tempo slows slightly, playful fiddle solo) And let’s not forget his companion so true, A four-legged scamp with a loyalty due! He barks at the bushes, he digs in the clay, To find a rusty condom or some junk from decay! A star-level digger, he leads him around, To find every piece of cheap trash in the ground! (Bark! Bark! Good boy!) [Verse 3] (Tempo speeds back up, energetic handclaps) Now Lucien is finished, the Spire is undone, And the long-awaited peace of our kingdom is won! From Brightwood to Wraithmarsh, the people rejoice, And they sing of his glory with one roaring voice! He’s our "Hero of Bowerstone," champion of grace, With a halo of light or a scar on his face! [Chorus] So raise up your tankards to the Hero of might! The town crier sings of his deeds in the night! Call him "Saviour of Albion" or "Gladiator" grand, The rowdiest, wealthiest lord of the land! [Outro] Yes, drink to the Hero, and pay him his rent! For every last gold coin is brilliantly spent! To the Hero! (Tavern cheers, clinking glasses, big final fiddle flourish and stomp)
