[This collection of parchment is cobbled together in an untidy book and kept on the person of Vaskr Farsong. Much of the writing already bears the work of another author...]
Quote from: A scavenged scrap of parchment collected from the GuttersYet we applaud your little trick,
Your artful ways and cunning wit
For in this world of shadows and deceit,
Your courage and resolve we gladly greet
normally not one for journaling, but I saw Skink and Grime scribbling in their own when they got a moment so I figure what's good for the goose is
good for me
and I saw some shit that's worth writing out slow-like and thinking on
I used to think the shadows were the Moon, but they don't talk like I'd think the Moon would
they talk like ME
or not like me but like your average fellow with hopes and dreams and limbs and life
like the one from the courthouse that talked about the coffee being worms and the sun being a lie and why it makes our skin itch under its lie-giving rays
or the one from the creep that talked about trust and murder and elves
they want to talk, they want to be HEARD but you would think that if it was HER she'd be more inclined to give advice or give or take or bless
I don't quite understand it and I don't know who to talk to about it
P? Might get it but what can they actually
the Dunce? Ehhh
maybe this just stays with me from now on a little secret that grows roots in the heart
not sure this helped but you know what might
moondust
scorch
beer
mizzar
let's try QuoteHer voice was stolen, taken now
Her words no longer heard
For in the end, she stole our choice
With nary a single word