If Something Is Wrong, It Matters Not

You Talk Like A Drunk Man Walks: In Every Direction But Where He Be Headed.

Over The Millennia The Seed Of Stories Planted In The Fertile Soil Of Bits And Scraps Of Facts Was Watered By Wishes And Began To Take Root And Grow. Eventually, A Bountiful Fruit Of Rumors Burst Forth, To Be Spread On The Wind Of Whispers That Said We Hid A Fabled Hoard Of Gold. Nothing Could Convince The Believers That It Was Not True. The Truth Does Not Glitter For These People Like Gold Does.

Others Made You Into Who You Were. You Made Yourself Into What You Have Become.

Once You Teach Me Something, It's Mine To Use.

But If Used For Retribution, Magic Is Vengeance Incarnate.