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“King Elimear was short and burly, but his voice and strength made up for it. His hair was a golden wheat of waves with a stiff beard and broad shoulders. He wore a crown made of precious metals and jewels, carrying a distinct shade of amber. On one hand, he bore tokens, and on the other, he held a sword, and as he alighted, a velvet cloak dressed his back, depicting The Burning Flame.”

“Several weeks have passed since the incident at Lord Frisberts Hat Shop, and I’m saddened to say, I’ve yet to leave this hole. Rents due, and I could hear old Finby barking from down below, but my pockets run about as dry as the shavings on a chicken coop. On a good day, I’d gather some lint off my trousers, but not today. No, sir, not today.”

“On the fifth night, upon the eighth hour, as the fires burned, Abbo was stricken ill by St. Anthony’s Fire. I assumed it was the rye bread he’d eaten as I had eaten the cornbread. I recall telling Abbo to try the cornbread instead, but he never tried rye, and his heart was set on it. I should’ve known better when the merchant smiled, the man never smiles. I think he meant to hurt Abbo...”

“Taking the wrong fork, I veered onto a curious road where the ground grew increasingly higher, and although my heart warned me to turn back, I didn't, for the curiosities of the mind are much stronger than imagined. During the course of my journey, I noticed trees becoming unwieldy, taking shapes my eyes had not seen. What was this peculiarity that battered my mind with such wonderment? There were no signs, nor directories, not even a guide, but my curiosities did not wind, for too eager was I to turn. So, like a child lost to the night, I walked this lonesome patch of gray until coming across a curve where the forest belt spread like wildfire, and the wild weeds and grasses produced a certain beauty not found in other parts.”

“I recall long ago sneaking into my father's study, and a man of great knowledge whose beard touched the ground entered the room and said, 'What do you plan on doing with the knowledge you attain?' I had not the answer to that and was more frightened of his Brobdingnagian looks that I grew short of words. Perhaps it was magic? That's when he walked over, pulled a chair, grabbed a book, and said, 'One must build upon the works of those that came before him.' I did not know it at the time, but the course of my life was set that day.”

“Long and white was his hair, like the mountains of the north, with a towering beard that had aged with time. Shrouded was his cloak, and of yew was his staff, and atop his head, a braided crown made of silver decorated it. Wrapped around his furrow neck, hung a horn, and perched high atop his olden shoulders, rested two ravens resembling the color of a wave’s crest. From the book Tundra: A Wanderer's Tale into Darkness”

“If moving on a fast foot, one would hardly notice, but for the limpers like myself, one noticed many things. And on that eve, I noticed a myriad of things that on a regular day, my eyes would not see. Souls of men whose faces all never meet another patch of light, touch grass, or raise a ripe melon to their face, isolated from the rest of the world. That’s when I knew our time was fleeting.”

“The light of the evenfall had dwindled, bringing a knot of smoke over the blacksmith’s shop, and from one point to the next, a streak of colors lined the horizon like time’s old hand, reminding one of a Geiger tree. To the wandering eye, the eve would’ve seemed perfect except for the wall of cries that drowned its beauty.”

“Upon setting foot on land, the ferryman warned me I would not have a ride back. The ferryman seemed spooked by the fog. ‘Cursed lands! Cursed lands! Cletus yelled.’ I came to the realization something was wrong with Cletus when I noticed the curvature of the man’s bones. I could not understand what had transpired, for the very air seemed cool. So I shrugged it off and continued my journey past the fog.”

“In a large, abandoned field, I found myself cleaning the dung off the only pair of shoes I owned since I can remember. Perhaps, next time, I'll be more cautious of my steppings. It was at that moment when I found myself locking eyes with a creature whose sight I found utterly revolting. Marked from head to heel with hair so short, one could've mistaken the poor thing for a boy, except for the bountiful bosom, whose ample weight carried well. If I were to say the poor thing made Ms. Bottom Slippers look attractive, I kid you not!”