The Lore of Sorcerer Ifran of the Hills

One does not simply come across a dryad's ear

But lo'nd behold, Ifran, he may look slightly queer,

Yet aligned with the red planet his strength is

A silent assassin is that viper of his.

Let me tell you this son, as it is ô so true,

The most unlucky bastard you are if pass through

The Hills, in the latest hour you must. Dear God.

Think of two floating sparks in the dark. You poor sod.

Run to your wife, for just one more chance to hold her.

When in his way, you'd rather fight a beholder,

Or you'll be consumed by sorceries most gloom.

Your poor soul's body shall be but some ash and fume.

Entered by: 0xE9B7…da2B and preserved on chain (see transaction)