Between the 72nd and 73rd pillars (measured from the front of the room) of the left side of the Memorial Atrium is a rather nice wall. It's composed of a sturdy wood — oak, perhaps — and it makes a pleasing sound when you rap on it with your knuckles. It would probably smell nice if you put your nose up to it, but that would be odd, no?
Numerous papers are haphazardly affixed to it with similarly sturdy iron nails. Some are mere scraps of parchment bearing an illegible scrawl, some are lengthy scrolls in beautiful calligraphy that roll down the wall and traverse the soft green carpet. Mind your feet, lest you trip. Your fellow patrons pause their travels to inspect the bulletins, although removing them is quite impossible. I'm sure the more vertically inclined among them would lift you up to read those posted higher on the wall if you asked nicely. Looking at it as is, there are a choice few things you can make out.
First is a series of… printed screenshots? They appear to tell the story of a rather unorthodox blogger.
| Revelatrix | Description | Rating |
|---|---|---|
| UPDATE: Roxie is Still Alive | An introduction to an idiosyncratic blogger. | +8 |
| The Hole | Roxie gets personal. | +8 |
| this girl i knew | Roxie overshares about her love life. | +7 |
Next, weathered yellow pages describe a gunslinger from a bygone era.
| The Life and Times of Dominic LeGrande | Description | Rating |
|---|---|---|
| The Ballad of Dominic LeGrande | A love letter to westerns. | +5 |
| Blood in the Mud | Dominic LeGrande's origin story. | +13 |
| Ain't No Man | The birth of a hero. | +8 |
| The Devil You Don't Know | Dominic hunts a monster. Co-written with Din-Bidor. | +7 |
The rest of the proper narratives find their home in an ill-fitting bundle of nailed papers of all shapes, sizes, and colors.
| Assorted Prose | Description | Rating |
|---|---|---|
| Recovered from the Diary of Võlutaar Anskál | A summoning gone horribly wrong. | +13 |
| Cleaning Out the Rooms | Byzantion-1 gives a speech. | +23 |
| American Putrefaction | A man and his city. | +12 |
| Front Row | A boy watches a titan fight. | +21 |
| We Should Hang Out Sometime | Reflections on growing apart. | +6 |
| The Last Confession of Wind-among-Reeds | Wind-among-Reeds makes a terrible mistake. | +21 |
| Blackmail, White Lies, Yellow Journalism, and Red Tape | Duke Gathers goes to Alagadda. | +10 |
| Drywall Hercules | A man lives alone in a haunted house. | +19 |
| The Antlion Graveyard | An account of a career past. | +12 |
Posted to the side of the cluster of writings, perhaps as an afterthought, are a handful of smaller leaflets. Swaying in the grasp of the titan who has so kindly lifted you up, you leaf through the cobbled-together book of impromptu poetry.
| Poetry | Description | Rating |
|---|---|---|
| The Day the Lampposts Walked Away | A poem that is what it says on the tin. | +10 |
| Prince Rupert | Reflections through glass. | +10 |
| Variations on a Dialectic | A man pleads his case before the White Court. | +13 |
| Snowed In | Beauty under an avalanche. | +6 |
Of course, as it would any Wanderer worth their salt, this begs the question: