[good afternoon, Siren's Port. There is a vaguely confused, mostly nonplussed nightmare staring at you.]
It is not the day I remember it being. ...Someone has interfered with something they should not have. There is something - missing.
[a pause. He tilts his head up, looking at the sky.] There is talk of cultists and sacrifices. Petty dreamers
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[...headtilt] You aren't a dog anymore. Did you speak to Lady Death?
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Then I found the bastard that did it and beat the shit out of him.
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I'd ask you the same, 'cept it doesn't sound like you remember much of it.
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[ You look like you're in one piece. ]
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