At the Temple of the Goose Goddess

If you seek swiftness, ferocity, implacability, then make the trek over the granite hills to the abandoned lakeshore, given over to the dozens of birds that prowl it in tireless rage, where all that now remains is the idol to the Lady of Geese. If – big if – you manage to withstand the gauntlet of bone-shaking blows & bloody pecks & reach the sanctuary of the temple grounds, leave an offering of cracked corn, oats & grapes. Your eye will blacken, your voice harshen, & you will neither sleep nor eat until you have run down your foe & lit into them with a flurry of blows & jabs that reduce even the stoutest to a quivering wreck.

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