[Tunes Shalaquin]

It was a stormy night in the year of the sheep,
When three men came to the local keep.
Up on Goblin Pass rocks had slid to the ground,
And under that pile lay the wisest around.

He was the local cleric, name of Sainbury Rice,
He was a holy man, he'd turned undead twice,
When they pulled him out, his skull was cracked
But the good Count said, "I can vring him vack."

 Vampire Cleric Rice

His name was Dracula, he was a real night owl.
He stood by the window, while his wolves all howled,
When they brought him the body he stuck his fangs in deep,
And turned the deathly state into undead sleep.

He drank all night, and then went to the door,
And called on his servant and said, "Igor,
I've got a job for you and I need it right,
Tidy him up and keep him out of the light."

 Vampire Cleric Rice

Well the servant worked on the cleric's husk,
And finished the job just before the dusk,
Then he called from the grave his boss Dracule,
Who took one look and said, "Yep, that's cool."

He was a real pale guy about 6 feet tall,
With a suit and a tie and a cape and all,
He had long sharp fangs and bloodshot eyes,
And his holy symbol hung in front of his tie.

 Vampire Cleric Rice

Then they woke him us as a child of Hell,
And asked, "How'd you feel?" and Rice said, "Well,
I want to thank you, Count, for restoring my health,
But what by the gods stops me turning myself?"

"Don't look at your symbol!" the servant said.
"Mirrors." said Rice. "I'm just thinking ahead."
The vampire said, "You have naught to fear,
For your image now, will have disappeared."

 Vampire Cleric Rice

Rice flew into town under cover of dark,
And pretty soon began to leave his marks,
He preyed on criminals and low-life slime,
He was the true Bat Man of an ancient time.

His legend grew as he flew around,
And he fought some joker in an elven town.
He was fixed up good, each new day break,
With the local Lord to ward off the stake.

 Vampire Cleric Rice

But poor old Rice was just a bit too keen,
And one day he picked a fight with a fiend.
They fought till almost break of day,
And the vampire-cleric couldn't get away.

It was just false dawn, near the end of night,
And a chance reflection on a distant height
Struck down poor Rice like a laser beam,
And he vanished with a silent scream.

 Vampire Cleric Rice

So here ends the story of the first Dark Knight,
Who shunned the day thought he fought for right.
His grave was poor, but his style was grand:
He was the best vampire cleric e'er to walk this land.

 Vampire Cleric Rice.