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  1. "Didn't even let me finish my spell..." A loyal Farian grumbles, but still glad to be alive.
  2. A certain battlebard nods to the missive, returning his own application which would speak out in his voice from the paper's seal. Name: Farian Malto-Gylldene Race: Human Experience: Around a decade's worth, since Ironguard. OOC: Username: PestyWarlock Discord: PestyWarlock Timezone: PST Warlock
  3. Farian Malto-Gylldene looks down at the missive with a competitive smile.
  4. Farian scans the missive, eyes darting to 'Resignation', "Hm, I wonder if he wants a song dedicated to him."
  5. ๐“ข THE GRAND OPENING OF THE GOLDEN LYRE ๐“ข โ™ช LET THE ARTS FLOURISH IN NORLAND โ™ช Come one, come all to the Grand Opening of the Golden Lyre! This merry venue strives to bring music and art to the great people of Norland and to continue the grand Norlandic tradition of the performing arts. We will be opening our doors to the public for the FIRST TIME in a few Ashen days. To celebrate this momentous occasion, we will be inviting any and all musicians, artists, and actors to our stage to perform whatever their hearts desire! Our resident musician, Farian Malto, will also be debuting his newest piece in commemoration of the opening. All lovers of the arts are welcome to join in on this celebration by feasting on mouth watering meat pies and locally brewed wine and ale while they view the performance. Get ready to cheer on the many artists of our proud nation (and beyond!)
  6. PestyWarlock


    Youโ€™ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, โ€œWhat brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your faceโ€”โ€Ah, itโ€™s you. Iโ€™ve been expecting you. Sit,โ€ she gestures at a cushion, โ€œTell me your story.โ€ ((How do you respond?)) Farian observes the tent's interior, the candlelight flickering across his figure. After a bit of pause he replies with a nervous chuckle, "Ah, I didn't think I'd become that well known yet." Slowly allowing himself to kneel upon the cushion, he meets the gaze of the hag after situating himself. A sigh precedes his words, "I'm but a traveler, as many tend to be, seeking his fortune wherever it may be." His eyes flicker towards the flowing candle fire before continuing, "My voice carries me across these lands, or at least gathers me enough minas to." A forlorn expression befalls his face as he looks down at his knees, then back up again, "soon enough my purse may run empty. But enough of myself, what is your story?"
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