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The Duke's Mouth?: Difference between revisions
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| book text = [An article marked "For the Editor's Desk" that looks like it never went to print.] | | book text = [An article marked "For the Editor's Desk" that looks like it never went to print.] | ||
There's a sickness in our city, dear reader. It nibbles on the council's ear in private audience chambers, it clangs around our streets in steel automatons - and it whispers sweet nothings from the pages of this very broadsheet. The fetid presence of Lord Enver Gortash is rotting our city in its very core, and this reporter is personally ashamed to work for a publication - no, propaganda vehicle - that allows the infection to spread. | There's a sickness in our city, dear reader. It nibbles on the council's ear in private audience chambers, it clangs around our streets in steel automatons - and it whispers sweet nothings from the pages of this very broadsheet. The fetid presence of Lord Enver Gortash is rotting our city in its very core, and this reporter is personally ashamed to work for a publication - no, propaganda vehicle - that allows the infection to spread. | ||
There's so much to this story, dear reader, so very much, and I'm excited to share it with you. Yes, you, Ettvard. Consider this my notice of resignation. | There's so much to this story, dear reader, so very much, and I'm excited to share it with you. Yes, you, Ettvard. Consider this my notice of resignation. | ||
- Holly Fowes, Investigative Journalist, Newly Freelance | - Holly Fowes, Investigative Journalist, Newly Freelance | ||
Revision as of 23:19, 3 September 2024
The Duke's Mouth? is an anti-Gortash piece written by journalist Holly Fowes.
A plain, unadorned note.
Properties
Notes
Rarity: Common
Weight: .05 kg / 0.1 lb
Price: 14 gp
Where to find
- Baldur's Mouth Basement X: -1034 Y: 1020
Text
[An article marked "For the Editor's Desk" that looks like it never went to print.]
There's a sickness in our city, dear reader. It nibbles on the council's ear in private audience chambers, it clangs around our streets in steel automatons - and it whispers sweet nothings from the pages of this very broadsheet. The fetid presence of Lord Enver Gortash is rotting our city in its very core, and this reporter is personally ashamed to work for a publication - no, propaganda vehicle - that allows the infection to spread.
There's so much to this story, dear reader, so very much, and I'm excited to share it with you. Yes, you, Ettvard. Consider this my notice of resignation.
- Holly Fowes, Investigative Journalist, Newly Freelance