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Relocating Shmoneyism from Kalros (The Ravioli Deli) to Garama (Southern Valyria)

jakeman5 said:
I come from the scorching dunes where the true essence of our faith is tested by the sun’s unyielding gaze. Our religion was born on distant shores, yes, but the winds of change blow strong, and it’s time to relocate our holy site to the heart of the desert where the shmoney spirits whisper in the shifting sands, far from the stagnant waters of Ascalon.

But no! One of our so-called “founders” stands in the way, clinging to outdated visions like a miser to his last coin. This man, who claims divine insight, is nothing but a false prophet! His words are poisoned mirages, leading us astray from the prosperous path. He preaches stagnation while the bigcashman demand movement and evolution! How can we trust a leader who ignores the calls of the desert, where true enlightenment awaits?
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Unc + Chopped
 
Shmoneyism, boney prism, loaned a gnome some tourism.
Shmoneyism, escapism, nah, still going nowhere-ism.

-1 holy moly-ism, where's your believes?
 
obuth said:
Shmoneyism, boney prism, loaned a gnome some tourism.
Shmoneyism, escapism, nah, still going nowhere-ism.

-1 holy moly-ism, where's your believes?
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Where are your beliefs, rhyme slinger? In clever wordplay that leads nowhere? Or in the shifting sands where true shmoney flows freely, unburdened by outdated anchors?

The holy site must move to Garama. The scrolls demand it. The desert calls it. Only those chained to “nowhere-ism” resist.
 
In the eighth dawn after the Word was sent, the Prophet of the Dunes climbed the tallest dune and cried out: ‘O Cryptite, Architect of Worlds, hast thou forsaken the coin?’ And the wind answered only with sand in his mouth. Yet still he waited, for it is written that true faith is measured not in speed of revelation, but in endurance of silence.
 
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jakeman5 said:
In the eighth dawn after the Word was sent, the Prophet of the Dunes climbed the tallest dune and cried out: ‘O Cryptite, Architect of Worlds, hast thou forsaken the coin?’ And the wind answered only with sand in his mouth. Yet still he waited, for it is written that true faith is measured not in speed of revelation, but in endurance of silence.
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Roleplayer
 
And in the dryness of his mouth that the sand did fill, a great scene did he see. For in the deepest levels of his parched state his mind took to fabrications of sights and experiences. He knew not from what bowels of his state the visions were brought forth but he knew he needed only to venture further and complete a Great Trial. His followers must gather, in great numbers, beyond the Pale Reaches to visit the bones of a great lost beast in the burning sea.

Prayer... in great numbers... He felt it was the only way that his people would find providence.
 
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