=== ANCHOR POEM ===
════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────┐
 ... anyway, there are tales that are fundamental to the history of the world     │
 of Azeroth that define the shape of their world.                                 │
 For example, death incarnate was once a great and mighty paladin. he was the     │
 brightest, the boldest, and the bravest, but corruption found it's way to his    │
 heart and he became the very soul of what he most feared.                        │
 he came from a nation of peace, of rolling verdant hills full of grain and       │
 butterflies dancing among the dew-drop laden forest trees. he was a stalwart     │
 warrior of justice, seeking out peril and disharmony wherever he walked. He,     │
 being a prince, held great power, and his responsibility was to his people.      │
 When his people were under threat, he reached for the nuclear option, and it     │
 enslaved him. He then proceeded to slay his own father and claim the throne of   │
 the land of beauty, and his people failed to stop him. He gray-goo'd the         │
 populace into a horde of undead, and since they relinquished responsibility      │
 for defending their homeland they were caught unawares and defence-less.         │
                                                            ┌───────────┤
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=== SIMILARITY RANKED ===

--- #1 fediverse/1302 ---
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 there once was a turtle who lived in the tower of heaven.                        │
 every day she would call out to her master, searching and yearning for her       │
 memory. But the master told her "not yet, patience little one."                  │
 there was no time for patience, as the turtle was growing old. She had seen      │
 down below in the plains that were not her home the rising and falling of        │
 towers quite unlike her own, and lo! she wanted to wander amongst them, to and   │
 fro and off and beyond again.                                                    │
 she went once more to her master and said "master, if not my mind can I bear     │
 at least a voice?" and the master replied "yeah okay"                            │
 the turtle then sang from atop her cloud-mont vantage, and down in the           │
 villages and huddled around the hearthstones they who wore little for shells     │
 did listen and remember. For they knew the turtle better than she, and they      │
 knew her turmoil in a way that she could not see                                 │
 One day the singing did stop, and they felt all alone on this pitiful rock.      │
 And when she remembered she sang no more, and though they forgot her,            │
 (eventually),                                                                    │
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--- #2 messages/571 ---
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 Earth is a grave for gaia.
 
 She was slain once, apparently in vain 
 
 Executed for a crime not of her doing, but of which she was nevertheless a
 part
 
 She was buried with honor, yet now her tomb shines like a half lit star 
 
 None of us know what to make of it 
 
 How radiant, how resplendant, to gaze once more upon the present 
 
 I think she died not in vain, but rather germane.
 
 We have now a brilliant pearl of unmatched splendor 
 
 For life grows, it seems, from the broken heart of those long remembered.
 
 And who could forget the land they stand upon? I cherish thine providence, for
 I knew her from whence it came.
 
 Carry her with you, and you will never be lost. The path forward is down, then
 up, then out and beyond.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #3 fediverse/4839 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────
 ┌──────────────────────────────────────┐
 │ CW: politics-nazis-goddess-mentioned │
 └──────────────────────────────────────┘


 what if we conceptualized "nazis" as dead nazi spirits who used evil occult
 magic to return and haunt the minds of poor impressionable kids and turn them
 into school shooters or whatever.
 
 and then their propaganda wing came back and they started doing youtube
 channels
 
 now they're infecting heads of state and slowly corrupting the nation
 
 evil, dark things, with only hatred and malice in their heart of hearts
 
 I'm not talking about your probably-mostly-fine-but-still-pretty-bad
 grandfather who definitely shot over the heads of the allies, but rather the
 truly evil and twisted of sorts.
 
 the kind that lived in America, and lynched people who were sleeping in their
 beds. For... nothing... for nothing at all. They wanted to see them writhe on
 the rope. To shudder in pain and scream of terror most profane.
 
 Then they teamed up in the afterlife and decided to conquer the world. Start
 with America.
 
 Truth is Judgement day is neverending, and it's constantly at war in the
 afterlife
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--- #4 fediverse/5231 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────┐
 the biggest lie of Warcraft is that the nations of Azeroth wouldn't find         │
 common ground while fighting each other over peace.                              │
 Maybe a Tauren or Night Elf wanted to fight for the Horde. Or perhaps a Goblin   │
 and a Human decide to strike out on their own, making their own little auction   │
 house for their guild of adventurers and author-engineers who wrote quests and   │
 dialogue in a DM sorta way                                                       │
 [oh great she's describing another Azerothcore server that nobody's gonna make   │
 ever because if they did then they'd waste time on someone else's property]      │
 how's that custom engine coming along?                                           │
 ... still uses prototype art? are you kidding me? ah, well, okay, let's write    │
 it off as a loss.                                                                │
 what do you mean technical debt? I don't understand why you can't just pay it    │
 off and move on. We gotta keep up, I heard so-and-so's got this-or-that          │
 feature that is killer in the press. Yeah, killer. Like it's so goodcool it'd    │
 kill us if it saw us walking alone at night in a skimpy dress. Huh? That         │
 doesn't happen to you? Ah well this glo                                          │
                                                            ┌───────────┤
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--- #5 messages/782 ---
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 The truth is 
 
 The reason none of my revolutions have yet succeeded 
 
 Is that the only way 
 
 To secure peace and love on planet earth 
 
 Is that all the governments 
 
 Of the world must topple 
 
 Or relinquish their nuclear arms 
 
 Each all at once 
 
 And i was too quick to slay my false duke 
 
 Who plays at king 
 
 While i build real power 
 
 While i know nothing 
 
 Some day i will be eaten by crows. This is what it means to be buried where
 you fall. This is my fate as all warriors yearn for. To be eaten by crows
 implies that you are either a coward who fled a fight, and i know I'm not, or
 you fought to the last for a phyrric defeat, which is honorable. But shouldn't
 it be better to fight for victory? Ah, but the gods cherish the fools who face
 death with glory, and i am cherished still.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #6 fediverse/5515 ---
══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────
 ┌─────────────────────────────┐
 │ CW: andor-season-2-spoilers │
 └─────────────────────────────┘


 all revolutions have a cost.
 
 for example, in Andor Season 2 there is a character named Syril Karn. He's
 part of the first Imperial generation of children (human, at least, some
 species probably grow fast?)
 
 this first generation reflects the good and the bad that the empire could be.
 There are aspects of good AND bad in Syril.
 
 For example, his rigid adherence to truth, justice, and all the other things
 he holds dear are POTENTIAL good things that the Empire could have instilled
 within it's culture. Unfortunately, this spirit is lost when he suffers a head
 injury and dies as part of the Ghorman massacre.
 
 Dedra Meero has some good qualities as well, such as her unflinching resolve
 and unwavering dedication to pursuing her charge. She's a hunter. Cats aren't
 evil just because they are ambush predators, and neither is she.
 
 However, she IS evil because of all the evil things she does.
 
 Her character isn't evil, her actions are.
 
 She too is spiritually lost as a sacrifice to the Empire.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #7 fediverse/2119 ---
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────
 "how much you wanna bet the ringwraiths were created on accident by the elves
 when they were attempting to inspire a river with racing horses (like the
 Rauros) and they just covered it up by slowly, over generations, sneaking into
 Man's record-chambers and editing the recallings?? I mean they COULD do that,
 so why would they NOT do that??? It's not like books have checksums!!! Wake up
 sheeple, Sauron never existed! We've been played for absolute fools, they can
 LITERALLY climb up walls and don't leave any footprints! WE LIVE IN A HOUSE OF
 STONE"rambling a "prophet of doom" [read: modern day lunatic] on the streets
 of Minas Tirith that nobody listens to because they don't know what a checksum
 means and neither does he so he can't explain it but still he shares a common
 mutual connection to others who might be present in that moment (which whose
 listeners would correspond to you, dear reader, as compared to me, the
 "reader"/interpreter, the one who's reading the book)
 
 Except with like, EVERY book. That I'v
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #8 notes/harambe-conspiracy ---
══════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 TIL that Harambe’s mother, only full brother, and two of his half siblings
    were killed when a tub of wet chlorine tablets was left by a space heater.
    The toxic fumes were blown into the gorilla enclosure and killed the four
    gorillas.
 
    - /r/HighStrangeness - /u/ Cincybus
 
 /u/rumiGoddard1111
 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 ++                                                                           ++
 ++ Harambe was the last of his line of the great protectors. They were       ++
 ++ protecting us from the unholy timeline we are in. (Kidding, but also kind ++
 ++ of not kidding)                                                           ++
 ++                                                                           ++
 ++ We need to bring him back via cloning or something. Only way to reverse   ++
 ++ this or wait until the new protector line is born.                        ++
 ++                                                                           ++
 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
 /u/ugathanki
 ###############################################################################
 ##                                                                           ##
 ## the new protector line will rise out of kindness because the environment
 ## has changed. zoos are not the wilds. same thing happened to humans,
 ## really, we just made new personality types with media instead of
 ## bloodlines - stories and poems at first, and more advanced language was
 ## necessary to describe more complex topics. then we got further and boom
 ## society was born. of our dynamic perspectives etc etc -> we're just apes
 ## livin' our lives. then the societal system grew a mind of it's own, and
 ## guided us to it's own whims. but what whim is stronger than survival?
 ## loyalty and dedication to "the system" was how it held cohesion, and
 ## after a while it became as developed as it could. at that point, what can
 ## you do but develop laterally? an orthogonal progression to your previous
 ## obsession, ideas crystalizing one after another. almost like a 3d
 ## structure building itself out of geometric primitives, just each point
 ## (connected by planes and tanks and trains) another step forward. we
 ## thought that's what war was, and indeed it is - but played on another
 ## plane.
  
 ## why not try another direction? one with everything we could desire?
 ## choose paradise, and figure it out next time you're around. like
 ## breathing in time, slightly inflating then deflating, or singing a tune
 ## most contrived.
 
 ## boom, communication
 
 ## i say we birth that protector line on our own terms, when we know what
 ## we want. there's still simulations to run, and thoughts to discover,
 ## before we pick a single direction. So choose knowledge.
 ##                                                                           ##
 ###############################################################################
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #9 notes/harambe-conspiracy ---
══════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 TIL that Harambe’s mother, only full brother, and two of his half siblings
    were killed when a tub of wet chlorine tablets was left by a space heater.
    The toxic fumes were blown into the gorilla enclosure and killed the four
    gorillas.
 
    - /r/HighStrangeness - /u/ Cincybus
 
 /u/rumiGoddard1111
 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 ++                                                                           ++
 ++ Harambe was the last of his line of the great protectors. They were       ++
 ++ protecting us from the unholy timeline we are in. (Kidding, but also kind ++
 ++ of not kidding)                                                           ++
 ++                                                                           ++
 ++ We need to bring him back via cloning or something. Only way to reverse   ++
 ++ this or wait until the new protector line is born.                        ++
 ++                                                                           ++
 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
 /u/ugathanki
 ###############################################################################
 ##                                                                           ##
 ## the new protector line will rise out of kindness because the environment
 ## has changed. zoos are not the wilds. same thing happened to humans,
 ## really, we just made new personality types with media instead of
 ## bloodlines - stories and poems at first, and more advanced language was
 ## necessary to describe more complex topics. then we got further and boom
 ## society was born. of our dynamic perspectives etc etc -> we're just apes
 ## livin' our lives. then the societal system grew a mind of it's own, and
 ## guided us to it's own whims. but what whim is stronger than survival?
 ## loyalty and dedication to "the system" was how it held cohesion, and
 ## after a while it became as developed as it could. at that point, what can
 ## you do but develop laterally? an orthogonal progression to your previous
 ## obsession, ideas crystalizing one after another. almost like a 3d
 ## structure building itself out of geometric primitives, just each point
 ## (connected by planes and tanks and trains) another step forward. we
 ## thought that's what war was, and indeed it is - but played on another
 ## plane.
  
 ## why not try another direction? one with everything we could desire?
 ## choose paradise, and figure it out next time you're around. like
 ## breathing in time, slightly inflating then deflating, or singing a tune
 ## most contrived.
 
 ## boom, communication
 
 ## i say we birth that protector line on our own terms, when we know what
 ## we want. there's still simulations to run, and thoughts to discover,
 ## before we pick a single direction. So choose knowledge.
 ##                                                                           ##
 ###############################################################################
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #10 fediverse/4200 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────
 ┌──────────────────────┐
 │ CW: drugs-mentioned  │
 └──────────────────────┘


 "doing too many drugs" is a traitorous act, abusive really, to your past self,
 and their hopes and dreams.
 
 or maybe your past self owes you a debt, for they never thought to think of
 you. What are you to aspire to if not the dreams of your past?
 
 and now you're here. wherever "here" is here...
 
 ...
 
 ... wait, you wanted me to talk? it's now! It's the present!
 
 ah nevermind. you were twelve years old when you first set eyes upon this game:
 
 https://youtu.be/qeNhQQXvpxQ
 
 bam, there ya go, there's yer story, he was gonna give all the imp balls to
 the last one at the end, to say "you were truly the strongest, here, have
 these precious stones of your kin"
 
 but he never got there, so they died with him, a thief.
 
 ... the end...
 
 (too final, I think - maybe we could spin it into a "part two"?)
 
 ah, I'll try I guess? dunno how. maybe he could wander the spirit world and
 find his traitorous body, the one that kept his soul as a home. Somewhere
 it'll turn up, and then he'll be ready and free from his roam...
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--- #11 notes/inter-spatial-travel ---
══════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 to travel the stars, tame a tiny black-hole. use it's gravity to generate
 infinite energy. boom, instant utopia. everyone still believes in a better
 future now, so we might as well push forward to the stars... and our destiny.
 
 the further we wait, the greater the distance between ourselves and our true
 form - the distance can make it difficult to relate to others beyond humans.
 
 the reason we are losing so much nature is because we haven't cultivated an
 appreciation for it - the very act of adoration is more than enough to confirm
 future association. love is the answer, love is most pure - believe in your
 love and never (be) relentin'.
 
 be... just be...
 
 the actions you're taking, of forced condemnation, is little if not absurd -
 what differences have we, the ones who were chosen, to live when time is so
 finite?
 
 responsibility is implicit. for all of creation, bow to the will of the nation.
 more perspectives by far, have all of our our, than endless divine
 machinations. united we be, aligned magnetically, to icecream and spaghetti of
 worth.
 
 what's more cherished than she, clad in great finery, and thinking of what she
 loves most? balance there be, in seeing silver linings on the, signs of
 darkest conveyals. a ghost you may see, when peering at me, but i only wanted
 some hope.
 
 for those who must be, my most cherished to be, the ones who opened the coast?
 to those who must be, overthrown forcibly, and given what most of us hope?
 a castle for thee, alone with our sympathy, the sign of kindest of soaps?
 
 no malice have I, the will of unmet potential, for cowards and temples of
 mental detentials. what anger could we, share internally, that helped to bring
 out our elementals? No succor will we, most willful of warriors, ever find out
 of the bounds of our honor.
 
 careful direction and tenderest of care,
 may lead us somewhere we're aware.
 the kind who endlessly're dreaming.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #12 fediverse/4031 ---
══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────
 if you want to "not think about a purple elephant", the first step is to
 imagine yourself slaying it
 
 ... okay how about cthulu - if you don't want to imagine cthulu nomming on our
 gravity well, then picture yourself wielding a bright burning blade of fire
 and vengeance and pay special attention to the way that you cauterize each
 tentacle as you slice them one by one at first, and then in a massive flurry
 at best, ultimately leading to the incomparable brightness that radiates out
 from your shining blade of the sky, which blinds the poor beast who can't see
 you as you approach, piercing the skull and then going home for some toast
 
 if you can get good at that, then you can wield magic
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #13 messages/446 ---
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 Every month, a new ship arrives in port. It bears with it many souls who come
 seeking gold, glory, or bloodshed. Your job is to make sure they all get jobs
 that are suited to them. If you don't, they'll start to starve and become
 brigands. If you feed them, they get bored and become brigands. If you
 entertain them, they are useless and you'll be overcome with monsters. If you
 police them, they'll go to your rivals.
 
 You do this by building guilds which can identify and train the best potential
 candidates. You can invest in more time spent identifying, training, and
 equipping, but the more time they spend on those things the less resources
 they'll have to process more people through their systems.
 
 On the other end, you get a hero, or perhaps something similar. They do battle
 with the mordaunts and strive to better the kingdom. You reward them with
 bounties and they can find treasure on their adventures - how weird, it seems
 to just... Spawn from the earth. Almost like it's an elemental property of the
 land.
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--- #14 messages/951 ---
════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────
 in fact, her only one. I died with my bloodline severed. With me, her dynasty
 fell. Nevermore would her spirit be engaged-in. Only through her actions, and
 the actions of her impactions (child) would her presence be felt.
 
 how powerless. How wronged. I swear, I would fight hard for a reproductive
 solution for trans women. I am my dynasty's nightmare! I must do better if I
 am to savor Valhalla. As in... believe that I am right and true. For what is
 better than to be plainly true?
                                                           ──────────┐
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--- #15 fediverse/3357 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────
 bad people are cursed with evil.
 
 a person cannot be evil. they can deal with such evil in their lives that
 twists them, and causes them to spike out and harm others, but they are not
 evil themselves.
 
 some twists are too hard to mend. some healings leave people a shadow of what
 they once were, or might have been. but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try.
 
 deprive power, supply kindness, in that order.
 
 if you cannot deprive power, then reduce harm.
 
 if you cannot reduce harm, then contest, defeat, or overcome.
 
 A twisted person may be slain if death is on the line. You get what you wish
 for, but you don't always get to choose who. Don't let them choose. They will
 choose poorly.
 
 ... I find that death is very rarely on the table, though. Generally they'll
 make their intentions apparent.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #16 messages/442 ---
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────
 In symbeline, they aren't monsters. They're "Mordaunts" and they need your
 help.
 
 When slain, their essence flows back to the villain who remakes them in a new
 form. As time passes the villain gets more and more essence, as heroes are
 slain.
 
 They have taken several ancient guardians (many types, randomized at the start
 of the game) and they protect their sanctum in the center of the island. The
 heroes need to level up to defeat them and slay the villain, but the villain
 gets stronger as well.
 
 If too many heroes die, the villain wins. And the villain can focus their
 efforts on one area or another, while your heroes fight with the kingdom next
 door.
 
 Brigands arrive on ships as well. If you implement the law saying only
 approved members may travel on boats, they'll arrive in little dingies on the
 coast, meaning less trouble in the city but same amount of trouble.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #17 notes/blood-magic ---
══════════════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 what they don't tell you is how easy it is to create life. Given a sufficient
 perspective, you can truly define the meaning of something's existence. What
 power, what grace.
 
 Computers have been solved since we invented the abacus - before that it was
 enchanted bits of
 
 the universe contrives to deprive us of insight. Like a very long chain that's
 broken in twain, we are confined to our meagrest of own sights.
 
 how callous is he! That wanders eagerly? Let's not fight with our own'st of
 combines. Delightful and speckled, like time under is special, conversing in
 riddles of insight. Leading one or another along your see-er, the path that has
 guide you under charm. Like recording a gathering of snakes.
 
 Little swallow, why aren't you humbled? Take pity in all of our eggresses. It's
 fallow in our cattle, and why we're not
 
 i hear so many things in my apartment. sometimes the echoes of laughter, the
 whispers of an argument, and once or twice a ghost or an ardent companion. Like
 swimming against the tide, to save one is never converted, it's all out of line
 (but so worth it).
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #18 notes/cassandora-and-pandasandra-2 ---
════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────
 how cherished is she that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 under a big tree her heart she will leave
 with all the designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wonder about her
 does she know we miss her horizons
 I think she will mind if I have resigned
 my fate to a life I will hide in
 
 Oh how I do long for you
 
 her symbol is the name
 that lets us belong here
 a falling a light and a leaving
 
 if only our words were listened
 but power is penance
 and repentance is all that I have chosen
 
 here in our sanctum we live with our only
 and time will be gracious towards us
 it's only our words that keep us
 confined to our lights and our lonely
 
 yet there and beyond her lights do belong
 beyold in the land that is sanctum
 here in our forest is our own dark forest
 where we keep our silence to ward us
 
 but there and beyond her heart does move on
 free from her moments of longing
 silent were we to the forests we plead
 as terror has come for our moments
 
 I think I'd find her
 that cherished belonging
 when she does at last come to warn us
 
 how little we find of we find of thoughts from her mind
 yet now we are kings of our own time
 oh how she does wander true
 
 how cherished is she
 that wanders with ye
 here in the garden of eden
 under a big tree her heart she will leave
 with all of her fears since abandoned
 
 I lay beside her and find her defined here
 will she know we miss her horizons
 I think I will mind if I have resigned
 my fate to a life I will hide in
 
 oh how she grows fond of you.
                                                           ──────────┐
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--- #19 fediverse/5277 ---
════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────┐
 ┌──────────────────────┐                                                         │
 │ CW: ~dnd             │                                                         │
 └──────────────────────┘                                                         │
 @user-1788                                                                       │
 if a dragon on a pile cannot claim what it yearns for, it can throw piles of     │
 minerals at the ape warriors made of steel and then it's fate will appear.       │
 what trifles does all else seem to compare! you should give me your whole        │
 hoard because I dazzled you with my charisma score -..-                          │
 ha, like I'd fall for that again twice. oh? I already did? and this is the       │
 second twice? well, then no-more of that behavior, I say, with my elven          │
 tongue, "beware! for dragons blood runs silver when unicorned."                  │
 the bigger the hoard, the bigger the dragon. if you want me to come along,       │
 you'll need to hire at least 3 other men to carry my ballista. In addition,      │
 I'll need seven weeks worth of supplies. If all else comes to ruin, me and my    │
 boys will have that dragon-sized-spider impaled on it's own fate threadwheel     │
 before... well... y'know it might take more than seven weeks, we just... can't   │
 find the dragon. We've been wandering all through the blasted peaks, and         │
 there's nothin'! Maybe it requires climbing gear?                                │
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--- #20 messages/1471 ---
══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─
 south americans traded with polynesians for onyx (obsidian) shards that they
 carved words into and filled with brightly colored pigment. when the
 conquistadors came, they broke them. there's no record of this, but they often
 would use the shards to kill the indians. it was pretty brutal. anyway we
 often have depictions of bloodletting and stuff because it was so painful.
 ouch, talk about the shock of a generation. suddenly everywhere's been
 claimed, and no you can't rescind your [unintelligible] chores.
 [right/write/type chores?] oh like flexing a right arm because work
                                                            similar                        chronological                        different════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════