Dead Event.

Privileges of Royalty
Will never compare to her beauty.
Separated by fields of dreams,
I’ll never confess, lest,
My self esteem
Betrays me so,
To the girl I know.

Our mentors compete,
Never admitting defeat.
A standoff between
A dominatrix and an attendant
To the queen;
The winner is chosen
By the pope.
I stand here, anxious
For a result,
As then I can tote
My beloved lass
Without a fault.

I hold true to my field,
To the truth of the fruit;
Fit for the Gods, a drink
Aged by time;
Produced by a delicate pellet,
Endowed by the divine.

Second Part's Dungeon Hint:

Battered by time, this dungeon has seen better transformations.
The folk that reside here provide no mediation;
a single misstep or hesitation
leads to instant provocation.

Planks, toes, none of it matters-
nothing does until a skull shatters
these men of the sea
show whatever comes to be
should one dare to pry
into one watching eye.

Intricate patterns decorate the railings;
one can hear a maiden wailing.
Whence there was a resonance,
a madness called
throughout the endearing.
Men felled through nothing
but a simple, pleasant cry -
a simple lullaby.

Item Hint:
Ferghus's hammer