Friday, 20 December 2013

6 Geese a Laying

I blame that bard.

I mean, she couldn’t have known, sure, but if she’d just come into the village and rented her body, or even just danced at the tavern, that would have been fine.

But nope, she had to roll into town and sell herself as some sort of Jill of All Trades, as if she was the peak of entertainment.

Don’t get me wrong, she was funny, and she could sing, but then she had to start telling those stories to the children, and to Simple Jack.

Six geese I lost to him shoving gold down their throats…

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