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Ode to Crows


hemomancy
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A homely city, full of color and life.

 

Yellows and blacks, all strung up along banners when one looks above.

 

Caws heard from the distance, amongst the rustling trees outside the walls.

 

Many shops of weapons, drinks, and toys, with outliers as well!

 

Shops to speak with spirits, and gain furry companions.

 

Shops that offer clothing, along with many other items.

 

Each with their own charm, all differing.

 

A city that is large, yet somehow quaint.

 

Fires crackling, flickering orange and yellow.

 

People roam, with warm clothes and furs wrapping their shoulders.

 

Men and women of the army wearing gold and black.

 

Beret’s atop their heads.

 

Weapons hanging at their sides, ready to be used.

 

When they party, they party hard.

 

Carrion passed about, songs sung.

 

Piano, bagpipes, and any other instruments.

 

Dances, the Renatian Shuffle, the Ayrian Jig.

 

Lovely, lovely things.

 

That all deserve to be in a lovely, lovely city.

 

A shame, that a certain other human city can’t be the same.
 

Signed, Mirabella Violet, Court Poet of Haense

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Caspian reads the newest poem published by that one Elf child he let pass on the way to Sedan. "Must be speaking of Dobrov." He'd comment to himself.

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