I thank our protectress, Mother Tunare,
And give of my soul to Lord Bristlebane
Who brought me to meet my true love so fair, 
To cleanse Norrath of the blood that does stain.

Sneaking through Beholder, her voice as my guide,
We wend past hell-spawned abomination.
Under magic and steele, Minotaurs cried,
Returned to the pits of their creation.

She hails from Hallas far flung ice-bound walls.
Kelethin-born, I am their native son. 
Disparate climes engendered our heart calls.
Shaman and bard, destined to live as one.

Gathered this day, across land and ocean
Family, witness our love and devotion.

Chaunticleer Dawnherald
November 26, 1999