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Both battle tested, and honor adorned
The widows, they weep, his enemies they mourn
Those foolish who challenge, are subject to scorn
With an axe swing, like trees, his enemies, laid low
The bards sing his glories, which they of course know
Test not of his mercy, for limbs you shall lose
No tale ever told of a challenge refused
If fight him you must, hark courage, be brave
For only your god has to power to save.