Meet me on a grassy hill. Bring your sword or spear or flail and bring too your magic, the sorcery that is music. I will bring my weapons too but only to lay them at your feet in the mud for, you see, my challenge is single combat. I know you will win. I cannot compete against spells, enchantments, and summons. I am but a mere poet warrior in a land of conjurers and casters. It is silly to think I can be relevant, that my aid is in any way weighed by gods let alone the wife I do not have. Take my life, wizard. You and your kind already have.
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