Porthos, Wilem de la Champagne

Don Wilem de la Champagne

  • Bobby L. Rolls Jr.
  • Born: October 22, 1960
  • Passed: September 3, 2011

Don Wilem de la Champagne, known also as Don Porthos, was tragically killed in a motorcycle accident. During the Last Court of Duncan and Larissa, the Dons of Trimaris gathered in royal court for a moment of silence.

The Ballard of Don Porthos

as written by one James Highgate of Darkwater in A.S. XLVI

His name was never known to me

among my journeys oversea

but ale has a certain way of talking

once men tire of their walking.

Of Trimaris; I was quite new

so strange found I, these lands of blue

and white where Lord and Lady both

did speak his name, and by their troth;

in every book of honor writ,

was he in word, and wiles, and wit.

Yet from salt seas, on came salt tear

for this hero that had fallen near.

I knew him not, but looked about

and from every eye did lament sprout.

For man is judged by what he proves

the lives that he’s touched and thus improves.

In his honor came call to lyst,

I knew I’d stand within their midst

so thus moved I from where we stood

and rode me on to the Wyvernwood.

On every road, each passerby

did stop to lay their flowers by.

And yet I knew I stood apart

for lacking in a war-torn heart.

My armor new, my sword still shone

I’d shed no blood, had won no throne.

So came thus I, warrior bard,

to stand within that hallowed yard.

For on the eve of Hallow’s came,

When veil is thin and set aflame

did we stand to salute the Crown

for to give him honor and renown.

And yet, my friends, as you will see

the tales had kept some notes from me.

This hero was a joker, too;

for down to the Lyst he straight-ways flew.

We fought for honor and glory,

and please, my lads, pray heed my story,

for I say without a hint of fear

that a shining figure did appear.

That figure stood, blade a-ready

A halo as his second’ry!

So on we fought, and in his name,

for Courtesy was our only aim.

Some he blessed with the favored shots

yet others were not well at spots.

Until, at last, there stood but two

Ladies of whom each other did woo.

These ladies, foe and consort both,

took they the field, and by my oath,

I swear I saw that figure laugh,

for to see such joy on his behalf.

And as we laughed at such good sport

he glanced around, a friendly sort

of look that shone his fondness through

for all that came and those that knew

But as the victor crowned the day,

this figure, he did fade away.

For heroes live within our heart

and in the legacies that they impart.

Thus ends my tale, I tell you true,

to let him be the best of you.

For man is judged by what he proves

the lives that he’s touched and thus improves.

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