*Scrawled across one of the benches of StormCrest in a odd brownish ink or paint or other substance, a strange message*
I Wish Music could adopt,
It makes the clouds roll,
It is a joy that brings,
More precious then Mithril,
I have my music.
With out my muse I will go Crazy.
*despite its rough surface the handwriting seems extraordinarily crooked and as if the author was suffering in some why as it was scrawled. Despite normal efforts to scrub off the 'ink' it does not remove.*