The bard stopped at the alleyway's exit, his vision tempted by another... vision. Well, a poster, but now we're being silly.
"So, the different flavors are at different prices... and each flavor has a different cost... all right then. So, why is Cliodhna at five gil, and the Sultansworn at five gil, but Faye is at six? Is there some sort of inflation involved?" He stared harder at the poster, as the thought rolled around his head, storing a joke about Inflation for later use.
"So, the different flavors are at different prices... and each flavor has a different cost... all right then. So, why is Cliodhna at five gil, and the Sultansworn at five gil, but Faye is at six? Is there some sort of inflation involved?" He stared harder at the poster, as the thought rolled around his head, storing a joke about Inflation for later use.
"But in the laugh there was another voice. A clearer laugh, an ironic laugh. A laugh which laughs because it chooses not to weep."