Well, this is just great. Here I am, in this putrid cell awaiting my so called redemption to the builder of these wretched lands. Down here, I'm rarely given enough light to see my own hands, and when a watchman does cometh along with his quaint lantern and trendy water pouch, revealed become the mawkish stones on the walls, shrouded with mold so thick that any horticulturalist would rank it healthier then I am. The stench is horrible, or at least I remembered how awful it was when I could bring myself pay attention to it, and the air here is rotten enough to make rats swell up and burst from ichor they didn't even know was in them. It seems like a few days ago, though I'm not even sure I've been here for an hour yet, I was thrown into this place alledged of murder of a nobleman. I never had I killed anyone related to the esquires whose trinkets I flitted, I would have ensured myself a sensible cover-up. I'm scald regularly by a duo of rock solid Hammers....

Tears of Blood
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