Slann
Warden
Tenth Spawning
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“Yeah, Trouble. Them troubulous goblins, the McCoy Boys are a’comin’ down outta the Bad Lands and they are juiced up plenty. I’d say they’ve just given someone a good lickin’ and they’re on their way here to celebrate. Say Piano-man, could you tone it down or tune it up a little? Sounds like you’re hittin’ the keys with dead rat.”
The Piano-man paused. He had indeed been playing the instrument by hitting each key, or large groups of them, with an armoured and undeniably dead rat. The rat was impaled on the end of a pitchfork. “No one appreciates my art,” he grunted. “I’m going upstairs to my balcony room which overlooks the street. Come along, Steinway.”
His grunting progress up the stairs was only slightly less musical than his “art”.
So tragic. Artists are never understood in their own time.