A popular ditty in Rickslanding, which goes like this:

Once in the farmlands,

There hailed a special boy.

Raised to be a killer,

This man was not a toy.

He hunted all the foxes

And slayed men in the field.

Wrestled a troll bare-handed,

Nought a weapon he wouldn't wield.

Then he came across a hound,

This was no ord'nary wolf.

He sought the poor boy's lover,

Her soul he would engulf.

The girl was his castle,

The fields, flowers and trees.

The streams, rivers and mountains,

Birds, hounds and bees.

And so he placed upon his head,

A helm of mighty steel.

And dealt such deadly blows

That no mage could ever heal.

But when the fighting was over,

And the battle was done.

The fields were lakes of blood,

Not a single person won.

The wolf left without its prey,

But the boy had ruined the plains.

The girl that he had once called home

In the fighting he had slain

And though he won the battle,

He lost his special girl.

He proved himself the Greater Beast,

But to him he'd lost the world.

Yes he proved himself a Greater Beast,

And alas! He lost the world.