| Face at the window of the shop neglected
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| Squints down on the people
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| Spider crack along the pane
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| Along the cheek (not so deep)
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| And eyes that dart from coin to pocket
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| Curse the wallet
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| Junk antiques and blatant forgeries
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| He weighed and lost his soul to Mammon
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| Sold his soul for a costume synthetic
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| He found a map on scroll today
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| Tucked away in a crate of books
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| Charlatan and spider web
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| But this was different, this was Something
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| Opal glinting between the piles
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| A chart of uncharted in the seasons rolling
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| And a network to an X following
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| Winter skeleton fingers creep
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| Out across to grasp his coat of lies
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| Stride with overconfidence
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| He stepped onto the cobbles
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| Find him an airship and a crew
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| Bait them
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| Pay them with a strongbox promise
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| Follow Opal to the hoard
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| And kill them all out on the raging Q’Sh |