Pot Head Succulent Head Girl Poster


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Maddening. The solitude was absolutely maddening. Pot Head Succulent Head Girl The air was stale and rank. He could hear no other prisoners, not even the scuttle of rats. He was completely isolated and alone. Being raised in the temple, he had always been surrounded by others. There was no one to talk to, and so he did not speak at all. All his life he had sparred with his fists and feet and tongue. He wanted an enemy to fight, even the Kishion. How long would they keep him? How long had it been? Sleeping and dozing came fitfully. At least in his dreams there was sunlight and grass. When he awakened, he was met by the horror of the void. He wanted to scream. But maybe that was what they were expecting. Maybe they were trying to break him.

Pot Head

Paedrin exhaled slowly, beginning another round of meditation. Pot Head Succulent Head Girl His strength was failing. Hunger ravaged his gut. But still there was only darkness, and in the darkness and loneliness lay madness. He felt it there in the cell, crouched in the corner by the stink hole. Gibbering madness.

The flash of light startled him. He shielded his eyes with his forearm; he was used to the searing light by now. He gritted his teeth to avoid seeming too anxious for the gruel. There was the sound of boots on the floor, but it was a different sound. It was firmer. It had a clipping sound. A metal torch was fastened to a wall bracket. Silence. Paedrin tried to look at the light, but it was too bright. His eyes throbbed in pain, but he forced them to remain open, to adjust to the searing pain that stabbed him. There was a shape beyond the bars. A man.

Succulent Head Girl

A deep exhale came from the Arch-Rike’s throat. “I am sorry then. If you were a Bhikhu from Silvandom, then my ring would have warned me of the lie. When dealing with Tyrus, one must always be on his guard. I am sorry he ensnared you in his treasonous plot. There will be a trial soon, my young friend. Your life will most likely be forfeit.” Paedrin tried to wet his lips, but he had no moisture in his mouth. “And what treason do you suspect me of? I was sent by my master on the mission. Surely you are not implying he is imprisoned as well?”

“There is much we can discuss, Paedrin.” His voice was patient, yet there was an edge to it. Pot Head Succulent Head Girl A man used to being obeyed and never mocked. He twisted a large garnet ring from his finger, the stone ink black. “I am sure you recognize the fashion of this ring. It is imbued with a spirit that prevents any falsehood from being spoken or one uttered in its wearer’s presence.” He offered Paedrin the ring.

Pot Head Succulent Head Girl Poster

Let me explain it then. It is a most marvelous blade. Pot Head Succulent Head Girl There is only one of its kind. There can only be one of its kind. The spirit that powers it is stronger than death. It holds the very power over death. You are young. You do not understand the nature of the Plague and how death destroys knowledge. This city was created to preserve knowledge. The blade is a tool. Whoever it kills, it will preserve their memories and experiences and trap them inside the hilt to be used by the bearer of the blade. You must understand this, Paedrin. I cannot lie in the presence of the ring. That blade is the key to our survival. When the Plague comes again, and it will, for I have foreseen it, then those who are afflicted will be relieved of their suffering and their memories preserved. Think of it! Even were the Plague to strike me, my essence, my knowledge, my wisdom would be preserved for the next Arch-Rike to benefit from.

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