Cynic is my name good sir of the city. Coin has leaked from tattered purse and now I find myself more meek than a battered nurse. Extend a hand to lift this curse, or watch an old once manly man, wither up in famine then disperse.
A stone is thrown for 50k's worth
A dagger is drawn for a 100k's value.
Now in the fathom of warm embrace, meet the Cynic face to face.
A trick up the sleeve, a hidden ace.
Move towards redemption at a horses pace.