However eloquent or refined your writing style maybe, and however you cast your curse of shimmering, I hate to infer that you might be a pot calling the kettle black, but I declare that you be a pot and a black one at that.

For in a time recent still in the memory, you were once a 'master-bard', a man supposedly feared throughout the land, who regularly used to astound us with his amazing feats of egocentricity, and who used to regale us with stories about how we were al

l pale shadows of his might.

Yet, this brave 'master-bard' contrived to fight a mutual challenge with Blueskull and as the challenge progressed, they were joined and not a scratch did the 'master-bard' lay on the paladin. Not a scratch did he lay on the paladin as he sank to one

death, his bones reknitted by the herb of olvar he had consumed, and as he sank still further down to 200 health.

Did the master bard heroically accept his defeat? No, after dying once to olvar and strangely moments before surely dying again, the 'master-bard' opted to qq. Reconnecting two hours later just long enough to change profession to that of the mage.

After all the utter bullshit that 'Master-Bard' has spread about how he is so great

and how all the rest of us are so lame, it was sad but gratifying to see this supreme act of hypocrisy.

Sorry, to see you resort to this kid.

Orinoko

Written by my hand on the 24th of Midsummer, in the year 1049.