The phoenix you're about to meet goes by a few names. On his title, it reads Mighty Dricken. Back home, folks call him the yolk with the mostest, and after he's done avenging commoners the fallen tend to stay fearing Chick Fury. But regardless of what he's called or by whom, when the best of the best are brought up, that name is usually up there in the pecking order.
But you see, it wasn't always
This sweet for him, nor was
His name always this feared.
Life wasn't easy, just a victim
Of whichever will, he was
Easy pickins for tanks,
Target practice for
Shooters, and a
Prime casualty
Of sneaky links.
Bounced around from squad
To squad, he didn't buckle
Once, forget getting it out
The mud, he got it up
From 6 feet below.
And it was on that day, post brawl
Once again basking in the crimson
Light, when a 2 steppin shadow
And his waving scythe caught
Dricken's eye.
With a spring in his bounce
He darted from side to side
As he approached, neck
And smile with follow
Throughs at every
Stride, meanwhile
Humming death's
Lullaby.
He then front flipped, vanished
Mid air, and in a blink of flash,
Was crouching right beside
Shook Dricken.
Wide grin, souls eye
To eye;
Twisted Jester: "You're reckless, fearless, borderline suicidal. J likes your spirit. Thinking of, his Lordship could surely use the allegiance of a warrior like yourself. You know who J talks about right?"
Dricken: "Yeah, I do. coughcough. Not interested."
Twisted J: Owwhh. But it could so help you out of this dire predicament you're in.
Dricken: Naah, I got this!
Jester's smile widened even more;
Twisted J: Look, you only got a few minutes until it's curtains for you. This scythe can put you out of your misery just as easily it can turn you into the warrior you've always dreamed of becoming. Now why fight such a blessing.
Dricken: I saicough ... I, got this!
Twisted J: ... Fine! I'll do it anyways! Just make sure this stays our little secret. Ptuouahahahaha!!
And just like that, J swung
The scythe carving Mancer's
Seal into Dricken's chest,
And soon after his arc was done,
A fiercer phoenix rose out
Of the purple fog, very
Much itching to throw
Claws;
With no contract to show for it,
Maybe death, maybe exile in a
Not distant future, J didn't care,
The chaos that would ensure
Would surely be worth it.
On that day an unlikely kinship
Was formed. Dricken's wings
Could no longer be clipped,
Nor could J's Strolls get
besmirked.
The Wake Rooster and The Grin
Reaper went from strangers to
To confidants, often rivals;
Going from butting heads to in
Cahoots, to spot up shooting,
And straight up playing tag
With their food, till it's kaput.
Hell hath no fury like
Their stampedes.
Their myth built across Preatoria
A la Quixness, pure guts, 0 quits.
Merit after merit, their legend
Was proven time after time,
And that despite J's mostly
Ghosting behind.
The dream had become the art.
Now Mighty, Dricken has no
Equal among fellow mercs,
Nor in the ranks of those
Loyal to the status quo.
"So yes;"
His wage is hefty but his rage
A safety net, best investment
Towards your safety when
Harnessed.
Lucky you he has immense
Respect for you, your age
Deeds and wisdom.
Still, at all cost restrain
From imposing your will,
And be ready to meet
Every single of his
Demands.
Only then will all sail
As smooth as Baakjira
In his element.
Advisor: Got it?
Immortalis: Understood.
Advisor: Good, good. You may now enter.
Immortalis: Thank y
Advisor: Oh yeah, I hope there are no shenanigans afoot between you and your troops outside. Don't let this harmless smile fool you now, we got my eye on yous.
Immortalis: ... Of course not. We are only here to enlist the best of best, in an effort to match the forces of my age old foe Archmage Arius.
Advisor: Is that so?
Immortalis: I am sure you have heard of our history, a decisive battle is coming up and we just want to be adequately prepared.
Twisted J: Uhmm On your way now.
Well, that was my fanfic involving Furious Chicken, Twisted Jester and Mighty Dricken. Looking forward to your thoughts.
Images courtesy of 
And they said I can't write a story about friendship. Smh