7 September 2016


"About bloody time" Oreamnos though as he wandered through the mess of his new office. In the corner, recently uncovered, was an antique oak writing desk which he hadn't seen for weeks. Looking around he realised the battered leather chair which went with the desk was yet to be unpacked.

Stalking off, muttering about incompetent janitorial staff, Orea went to see if his new citadel contained a decent glass of rum anywhere.

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