Hark, ye seekers of wit and renown, Chuckles’ grand jest spreads through town! No Yew’s deep woods, nor Britain’s stone gate, But a mage’s bright realm seals your fate.

Where slumber’s soft bed lulls creatures’ dream, A lone star’s gleam casts a guiding beam. In Moonglow’s script, the first holds no weight, A truth lies veiled, to number your fate.

Unscramble my jest, let “RATS” rearrange, Seek the gentle fold, where dreams seem strange. Prove your sharp mind, seek the jester’s decree, One clever soul shall claim victory!

— Chuckles, Sovereign of Shenanigans