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Tales of a Lonely Muse


ScreamingDingo
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A simple, but elegant display of works are hung on lone boards within taverns and handed to you by street urchins and children.

 

 

 

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Oh for what has truly beseeched me, My true purpose has been halted by what appears to be a simple man of northern look! East, perhaps? No, never with such a horrific gesture, for what do you remark me for, a Servant?

 

For what that has been done, oh eastward man. All you wish for is the betterment of those around you. Look, for look around all that you wish to introduce the betterment to! Liar, for that is what you shall be called, a man who is a servant yet drools from the side of his mouth.

 

Finally, this is what we wished for, for years have truly shattered the mindset of my dear old servant. Reality is what is challenged, what is reality? Oh, my, oh, my. Memories are something that many do not hold onto, but poor old easterner servant, you shall know that you will be forever cherished.

 

To the left, we say, for we roam these lands searching for those who mimic that of the east. He himself who stands stop the mountains themselves will see their self worth, or be dragged to the cruel, Eastern king.

 

Silence, that is for what he demands. Killing is what truly rattles most, even those of the servants that serve in the east. You shall truly understand such, for that silence comes from the cruel despot that our servant truly runs from.

 

Begin to see, begin to look, for what encompasses this shall rattles those that lie Eastward. What lies eastward, says many? All do not know of such, of what twists and forms itself in the mind of the hard who signs. Rugged, for that is what the bard carries himself as, the rugged man of the East.

 

Wilderness is what others believe seeks and sings to the hearts of many. Oh my, oh my. Riches are what are promised for those who do not associate with the wild, for those who abstain and break their chains will not falter. Love, for love is the tool of the eastward servant, for he roams and tries to find him. Destiny, for what many call fate, their paths shall continue to roam and intertwine. So, forth they travel and wish to find each other.

 

Collecting dust is what these memoirs do, a lonely man who writes with sorrow about an old friend who roamed east. Oh my, oh my. Love is something he yearned for, it is something that all yearn for. Lower points have been felt, yet the lone muse did not know what happened or what compelled him anymore. I, for myself wish the best for this lone muse. Do not worry, for what is done is truly done. Eastward the servant lies, and lonesome shall be the muse.

 

- The Lonely Muse

"
 

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William hastily checks a map, breathing a sigh of relief as he remembers Helena is in the west.

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Josephine would order her cousin Owyn to have the guards patrol the lands of Rafal that night, wary of strangers and muses.

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An old man screams. 

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