Songs for Brewfest (Strophic company anthem)

[muckefuck]

At the height of the last night's feast, Owlet hoists his tankard, makes an incomprehensible toast, and drunkenly squawks:

We're lethal and we're sneaky
We're char'tible and cheeky
And just a wee bit freaky
We're Wolfshead Company!

From Dyvers north to Chendl
There's nothing we can't handle
If your band can't, this band'll
We're Wolfshead Company!

You'll envy our position
We've got our Lord's permission
To head a holy mission
We're Wolfshead Company!

Our leader is patrician
He denigrates discretion
Preferring demolition
We're Wolfshead Company!

Our adept's adept at dealing
Heironeous' healing
For death is not appealing
To Wolfshead Company!

Our archer's a bewitcher
She drinks wine by the pitcher
But anger her, she'll spitcha!
We're Wolfshead Company!

Our mages are delicious
One's dandy and ambitious
The other's quite militious
We're Wolfshead Company!

Our elf is very nimble
He likes to gyre and gimble
And never gets a pimple!
We're Wolfshead Company!

Our half-orc is no bimbo
He wears Kord's holy symbol
One day he'll build a temple
We're Wolfshead Company!

(And, lest the familiars feel unfamilially fameless:

We're furry and we're beaky
Amphibious and squeaky
Warty, small, and streaky!
We're their menagerie!)