What other man, apart from him and Umberth had dared walk the marble road unto its terribly unknown end? What other man had lived long enough to tell ...he tale, only to be hunted down as a heretic, a blasphemer? Would his own end be as tragic and miserable?He grinned wickedly at these thoughts for they were immediately followed by the echo of his resolutions: He wouldn't perish neither in the Widelands. Nor would he be torn by the hands of a fanatical mob or made to disappear by the ever. We'll just check that the rumours --about the Khaasksarming themselves, practising potent seditious magics and instigatingbanditry-- are indeed false." She chuckled. "It's funny, how theskittish poltroons in my father's council can believe that these sillylittle cults would dare to oppose Peritian sorcery." What exactly will I have to do?" I'll annoy them, and if they are rebellious enough to attack myinviolate person, you'll help me dissuade their determination.Peacefully, I presume. I take. Until I got old enough and knowledgable enough to realize what was going on.Our family always used our vacation to travel from where ever we lived to the East Coast to spend the summer on my Uncles’ (two uncles) farm - complete with lots and lots of dairy cows, a huge pig shed and some noisy, nasty chickens. Mom grew up there and always had fond memories of being barefoot and stepping in warm cow plops ... really. I still think it sounds pretty gross 60 years later. Mom passed a few years ago. "Got it," the stylist smiled and lowered Taylor's head into the basinand started washing.As she did that, Taylor noticed that getting his head massaged andwashed felt really good. Maybe he'd ask Aunt Agnes if her hairstylistcould do this to him once he was back to normal. In a far moremasculine manner, of course.Taylor got lost in the combination of relaxing massage and relaxingmusic and just enjoyed the ride, despite it being slightly painful asthey ran a comb through his tangled.