Alasdair O'Donaill
He hated fire for as long as he could remember. His mind drifting momentarily to the flames that scorched his childhood
Dancing in flames, she sang a song in a pitch that only a pyre can coax from such tender lips.
He shook his head to rid himself of the grim thought...
(note: My favorite bard! I will be tinkering with this one. You guys probably know what I am going to say, as usual, read the background.)
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