Un libretto

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o̷͕͆̇͜b̸̭͆s̶̮̠̒c̸̨͓͌̉ū̷̧̥̉r̶͙͆͑ā̸̀̀͜ţ̵͍͐̚a̸̹̪̔

BV

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c̶̹̚o̸̱̕r̵̟̕t̶̡͈̆i̷̠͐̓ĝ̸̢̈í̸̢a̸͕̔n̶̏ͅo̵̢͌͌  Vacillation between outrage and sanctimony could very well annhilate the purpose of both, leaving only contempt. What new kind of fool sells betrayal at a loss?

s̸̹̺̿̚a̶͎̋͒ͅc̴͕̥̋e̵͉̞̐̚r̷̮̋̋͜ḑ̴̿̈́o̵̰̻͆̄t̵̥́͗ě̸͖̒ͅs̵̬̚͘ͅs̵̠̫̓a̴͙͠  The pilgrimage from the bedroom to the temple requires one, at least, to cross the street. What do you call a lie that no one believes?

ǧ̷͔̮o̷̮͚͒̾v̶̫͖́̄ē̶̹̲͠r̷͉͊͝n̶͖͐a̷̟̒̍ͅt̸͇̍̕i̴̳͛̈ͅ   Some things are impoverished by gilt. Eyes, ears and tongue surely. Patience too, worth more than gold, in the shape of coins or fabric - and so I count myself rich. What about you?

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s̸͎͑p̶̥͕͐a̷͕̓d̵͕̱͘̚ä̸̪̤́͝c̵͕̔c̶̦̽i̴̼͙͒n̸̢̋̒o̶̠̓ Fear a stab in the back? from me? My, you really ought to re-read your history. Are you sure you are facing the right direction?

ṭ̶̢̆̽e̷͎͆̓s̷̨̗̆s̵̺̊i̷̤̇̚t̶̻͌͘r̷͚̻̋͠ĩ̸͈͍c̷̺̋e̴̢͝ Hard to find loyalty, you said, his body still pumping blood, and your spell still warming the stones. What a perfectly ludicrous thing to say. What is more, your maestro already purchased the means. Such a waste.

p̸̞̐͜a̶͙̍z̵̲͑͜z̸͖̿ǫ̴̻̉ Let us list the things you can and cannot solve with dragon's breath. 

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l̴̲͔̓á̴ͅc̸͓̐͋r̸̻̽i̴̗̮͘m̷̜̽e̵͖̖͆ Betray and confess, and be spared heretic of Pra'raj. Oh tesoro, I could have laughed, but explaining a joke always ruins it.

ş̶̢͓̫̑͌̽ḙ̶̠̹̺̠̈́̀͐͝r̶̡͕̣͓̥͂̿v̶͎̒ọ̶̖͔͂̌̐͗ Give it a rest? It is the dancers that are moving, not the maypole.

ġ̷͇̘̞͛̈́͘͠á̶̜͓̎ͅt̷̗̐́͆͊̋ͅt̷̘͌͒͐͝a̶͇̹̳̤̋ If ever you find yourself being served tea, dressed up in crowns and gowns, look around very closely. You may be in a dollhouse. 

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m̸̭̤͗̑a̶̢̚r̷̺̱̩͂͠z̶̞͘ͅa̴̗̦͎̓̐͝ Who are you whispering to in that corner? Yourself? That would be the clever way of doing this.

t̸̛̀͝ͅȩ̵͓̹̳͈̏̈m̵̧̖̜̋̈́͋̉̉p̷̙̂̉͊̆̚e̸̯̬̙̲̓͆̃͊s̴̢̺͓̦͊ͅt̶̛̳͈̪͍̓a̵̡̡͋̔̄ Sirhandi lives, so why does he tarry here while the chalice borne in Orentid hands? Many have an opinion, but here is one that would have consequence.

ḉ̶̜͍̄̈a̷̘̖̔p̵̨̲̳̈́͛͠ǫ̴̺̭͋̓ͅͅc̴̛̺̖̭̣̖̑̂͘u̵̙̦̹̽͗̆̾ỏ̵̡̱͇̰̪͗́̀c̴̪͇̰̳͓͛̔̚o̵̡̳̪͈̎̇̉͘ Two centuries, one learns not take things as they appear. And yes, wisdom to prefer the salad.

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s̴̨̪̿̅̈́͂͂p̶̡̠͐a̵̙͎̲̓̉̕̚z̶̭̰̓́͌̕z̶̨̫̥͌͒́a̴̺̹̒t̷̠̘͙̚ř̶̰̬̟̍̈́̕i̴̜̙̤͖͚͗̂̈̊͘c̷̨̥̫͙̍͛̀è̵͙ ̷̥͇̿̀̀ "I have never been much myself. I like to make other things shine." Of all the misfortunes, that absurd, unbidden ache from my neutered womb that you were not my child, would not stay forgotten.

̴̳̖͉͉̚s̴̢͍̫̳̓̉̀̎̏c̴̥̖̞̆̈̈́̕h̷̛̝͂̏̓e̴̲̎̋͝ͅr̴̟̽̄̐̌̏m̵̧̱͉̤͔̾͊̇̅i̴͚͊̄͘d̶̢͚͍͍͛̓o̷̝̹͍͆̍r̶̻̙͈̍̆e̷̗̖̿͘̚ If you tire of the dance, change the music.

̴͇̟͕͔̳̂̅̇ ̷̝̩̆͑̊̃͜c̴̺͍͐̿̀̐͘a̸͎̋̈́͒̔l̵̥̥̘̟̅͋͝c̸̦̝̣̐o̵̦͕͌͗̓́̎l̴̨͕̃̑͛̉̑ò̶̧̢̙̱͑̒̈̅ͅ Would that I could bottle up that voice, and uncork it every few days.

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f̴̯̠̲̿á̶͔͗̒̑ṇ̷͓̗̈̇̈t̷̜̙̀́͝ä̶̪́̇s̸̈͜m̷̯̳̒̉̅a̵͓̅̓̓  Here I thought nothing could surprise me after all these years. But all miracles are lies. That's rather the point of them afterall.

̶̳̖͔̈́̑͗͂̆c̷̢̮̗͉͗͌̓a̴͓͜͠ň̵͎̳̮͒̊̇͘à̸̡̞̟̪̒͂͊g̷͔͆̑͑ḻ̷͎̻̺͐͝i̴͈͂́ä̴͓́̉ You know, I have sewn a man's eyes open and his mouth shut and felt nothing. Which is blacker do you suppose?

̷̹͌̏͝m̶̫͓͈̥̖͑̾͛a̷̲̘̓̿͂͛g̸̮̭̏ŏ̷͈̦̤ͅ While true the weapons Ibithal sought were mighty, it was the coin-changer in the end that proved mightier.

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s̵̫̰̼̣̆̔͘͘è̷̺̞̟̠̾̐ͅṙ̵̭ǵ̸͔̍̈̐̕ë̶̻̝̯́͋̃͛̽ǹ̶̤͆̐̐͑ẗ̷̤͍ĕ̴̬͋̈́̌̕ Well I rather got what I wanted. Don't you know how rare it is for both people to get that?

̷̧͇̤͈͖̏ś̵̪͠c̷̰̉́̽͑͝e̶̯͕͍̦̘̕͠m̸͍͙͌̍o̴͙̣̼̻͛̽  What a charming idea, that you can only die once. Still, I'll grant you, the first time is the one you grieve the most.

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ś̵̱͕̬̾̓̑̔o̵̧̨̦̪̦͆r̴̡̥̹͎̂̉̍̃e̵̻̔͗̃͂͒ͅl̷͇̠͌̈́͛͊̌l̴̺̖̯̝̀͑̂ą̵̭̖͌͛͜͝ You cannot really bare your soul if you don't have one. Still, candor can be nearly as filling. I should know, I've tasted both.

r̸̫̼̤̥̀̒̈͛͝ā̷̧͉̞̮̱g̶̢̹̱͕̈́̒̈́a̵̪̥̼̔̈̚͘z̶̰̺̆͌͆͌̈z̶̜̩̫͛͊ǫ̶̡̳͉̣̿ I would not wish to tarnish that curiously imprecise memory of yours. I can tell it is doing you some service. Men like him usually cried after paying, and the higher the title the hotter the self-loathing.

m̴̙͎͛̓̉̉̐͊̌̕̚͝a̶̜̱͍͖̭͉̦͎̐͠ń̶̺͔̤̗͛͑̉̕ẗ̷̩́̇̑̈̎͝͝e̵̯̭̣͑͌̈́̔͆̂l̵̢̗̜̩̻͎͈͆̀͜l̴̯̽o̴̞̬̟͌͑͜ The purpose of a tool is to make work easier. The answer that the dwarf gave is the purpose of a toy.

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m̶̜̜͚̟͔̃̄͋̋͛o̸̹̳̰̱̭̘͒̄̽͗̕b̴̨̩̦̗̗̭̹͖̗̉̄͐͜į̷̗͉̻̗̞̣̩̾̅̀̈́̎́́́͜͜͝l̸̹̖̈́̓͌͗̈̃͐͝e̴̢͇̣͙͗͂͑͋͝ Why don't you introduce us to your friend, signore? The strangest things happen out here, you know. That is to say, of course you do.

v̵͖̼̺̲̺̌̒̀̕͜ë̶̼̭̝̣̩́̀̿͒͜͠n̵̩̚d̴͖̠͚͓͒͛ͅe̶͖̪̠̩̯͕̫̭̠̪̐̑͐̎͠t̵̛̟̤̦̭̾̿͑͗̆̽͘t̵͍̾͂̆̌͒̈́̊̍͑ả̸̛͙̈́̋̋͂ You could have thanked him and gone looking for that sister. But we each have our journey I suppose.

r̶̥͈̭͈̥̫̺̒̋͆̄̽̕a̷̦̮̰̺̩̲̞͌g̵̻͖͚͚͈͌͝ȧ̴͓͔z̷̧̙͓̞͂͗̇̉̀̌͝z̷̳͙̑̒̓̕â̴̢̪̩̹̥̲̫͇͚̗̓̏͐̆̌́͋̕͝ If you are aroused and the crowd isn't, then it isn't a show. It's a solecism.