Weavenexa-Cognoscenti's Intoxication

Weavenexa-Cognoscenti's Intoxication

<image name=UI_ReadPic_121318 /> (A goblet lavishly adorned. It is said to be a keepsake from Reed Miller, the founder of the Treasure Hoarders.) Legend has it that once upon a time, the master thief's wine glass held the world’s best wine. It is also said that it once also contained the filthiest, most bitter rotgut, as well as tears, that one might glean from the alleys. That was a time when the black bloody rain was slowly becoming a terrifying legend, when the Torchforger had pleaded with Snezhnaya's new mistress for amnesty for the borderlands. Perhaps out of gratitude for the Tsaritsa's mercy, the master thief no longer chased the wealth of nobles who had fallen from grace. Instead, he assumed countless identities, seeking to soothe the people's sorrows with song and wine. Legend has it that the master thief who took off his silver mask had a face as beautiful as any Snowland Fae, And thus he moved through the banquets of the nobles with effortless grace, yet could lounge amidst plebeian revelry with easy abandon, Spinning the same electrifying legend for the two equally hollow and unremarkable sorts of people he encountered. "Sing for this time of free-flowing wine, my beloved fae!" "Sing for the crown destined to rot, and for the name of the immortal thieves." "Make off with all the tears of sorrow in the world, and kiss the gods with a mocking smile." "Not for pleasure, not for authority, but for a lover's radiant joy." From lovers' whispered pillow talk to drunkards' agitated shouts, the tales of the thief extraordinaire enchanted all who heard them. So the legend grew, until the singer and the subject of the ode blurred into a single riddle, passed from poet to poet across the wearisome nights.