[It is already late evening when the journal comes to life with yet another post. Unlike most of them, there is no voice at first; only the harsh sound of the flowing river can be heard, all other sounds almost blocked out by the loud noise. It remains like this for almost a minute, steady and almost overwhelming
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[For let it be known that there is no better way to approach talking books than to be polite.]
I thank you for your worry... milady.
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I see. That is quite precious knowledge to share with a stranger. You have my gratitude.
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Still, I did not expect such generosity in these chaotic times.
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I am Ramza. Could I, perhaps, come to know the name of the lady who helped me?
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Dizzy. My name, that is...
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