The Third String.
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Tales from a Dagda Bard
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The Third String.
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Tales from a Dagda Bard
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1/5/2019 0 Comments Queen of the MuicínsIt stood a good four foot tall at the rounded hump of its shoulder, not counting the ruff of bristles which were more mo-hawk than mane. The rest of its hide was covered in a course matted hair, dark brown and rough to the touch. For those willing to get close enough to touch it that is. The array of prominent tusks protruding from its snout did a lot to discourage close proximity. These ivory coloured teeth erupted in two rows from both sides of its slavering mouth and gleamed with threat whenever the beast shook its head. It moved about pawing at the ground with its fore hoofs and gouging furrows with its tusks, all the while its dark piggy eyes watched intently for its prey. The scents inhaled by its broad flat nose told it where best to scrape and rake the soil under its feet. A beast of vast size and power, to look at it you might think it some fluke of natural order, some oddity for its height and girth, that was until it’s grating squawking squeal brought forth its kin. The boar gathered, each as monstrously massive as the last.
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