A few days ago author Patrick Rothfuss tweeted his version of a Kingkiller/Hamilton parody in the form of a Kvothe-themed Alexander Hamilton. I’ve actually had a variant of this in the works for ages, so the tweet was enough to kick my butt into gear and I quickly shaped up a few verses. He actually replied to my tweet, which was pretty cool!

Anyways, Pat, my work in progress is now complete! Behold: Kvothe, You May Have Heard of Me. (Clunky, I know, but the unreasonable character:syllable ratio of this line is not my fault!)

Kvothe, You May Have Heard of Me

(to the tune of “Alexander Hamilton” from Hamilton)

CHRONICLER:

How does a red-haired Ruh boy

Child of troupers and players

Slayer of poets, kings, and an angel

Trained at University

With sympathy and symphony a pro, yeah

Grow up to be an innkeeper in nowhere?

BAST:

The Kingkiller, called Shadicar, known as Lightfinger

Also Dulator and sometimes the Six-Stringer

Made by Masters an E’lir, then promoted to Re’lar

By sixteen – renowned as a singer and magic-bringer

SIMMON:

And every day unfazed by bullies trying to hurt him

By hazing him for play, he struggled to keep on learning

Inside, he was aching and grieving, mourning and yearning

The brother was broken up by dreams of wagons burning

WILEM:

Then the Chandrian came and devastation reigned

Our boy heard the clues of chill, killing, and blue flame

Though he sped out to the wedding they were gone before he came

But he found the draccus’ bane

And the desperate town was saved

CHRONICLER:

Well the word got around, they said, “This kid is insane, man!”

Pay us less three talents ’cause you’ve aced the entrance exam

Get your education, don’t forget from whence you came

And discover the wind’s own name! What’s your name, man?

KVOTHE:

Kvothe, you may have heard of me

My name is Kvothe, you may have heard of me

And all will be revealed in book three

So just you wait, just you wait…

DENNA:

When he was young his parents died; horrified, Kvothe feared to

Confront the awful creatures who had done it – they sneered in

His face. It had all gone so wrong. The wrong song.

TROUPE:

But somehow they spared him and the story goes on

ELODIN:

Moved into the city, the city he near does not survive

Left with nothing but instinct and drive, somehow stayed alive

A voice saying, “Kvothe! You’ve gotta fend for yourself!”

He was unfettered, pawned his Rhetoric and left it on the shelf

CHRONICLER:

There should’ve been nothing left to do

Without his book and lute

He should’ve been dead and destitute

Without a cent to pay tuition

At admissions, dishin’ every number and right word

Blastin’ all the masters with the answers that he’d overheard

Scamming for every clue he could get his hands on

Planning to know more about the Chandrian and understand

Why they did what they did to his clan

In Newarre you can be a new man



TROUPE:

In Newarre you can be a new man

In Newarre you can be a new man

In Newarre you can be a new man

In Newarre



KVOTHE:

Just you wait!

TROUPE:

Kvothe, you may have heard of him

We’ve been trading all our tales of you

You could never be found

What made you disappear from time?

Oh, Kvothe, you may have heard of him

When the legends all sing of you

Will they know of your rights and wrongs?

Will they know that you wrote the songs?

The world will choose where you belong, oh

CHRONICLER:

The tale is being written now, will he get the glory?

Forgotten legend who had vanished from the story

The Chandrian destroyed his life and it was pretty gory

SIMMON & WILEM:

We friended him

BAST:

Me? I learned from him

ELODIN:

Me? I tutored him

DENNA:

Me? I loved him

CHRONICLER:

And me? I’m the damn fool who found him

TROUPE:

All will be revealed in book three

So just you wait…

CHRONICLER:

What’s your name, man?

TROUPE:

Kvothe, you may have heard of me!