Cureousenough

I know, you're probably tired of the stories. This one though is central to the heart of our art that's thus far been rendered. A certain collection of prophets once walked the earth floating around with their stories. Well, these weren't stories were they but those who spoke in God's presence himself would he rather. At least they were supposed to though we well know of the sort who aren't wont to listen. Sort as the dark arts themselves, these graced the world with their words to all who would listen. One of them was found himself with the very unusual task or teaching them somewhat of thus. This was back when the school for the prophets wasn't a thing of the past for those who were wondering.

It wasn't what you'd call entirely natural, with some of these involved in the cooking and a few other very own unprophetly functions. It just so happened in all of his wandering, he'd selected a few of the worst looking ingredients, gourds in his search for the edible or perhaps just had been all that he reached for. Although, who'd want to hurt such a collection of strange-looking people, though harmless at times and also much of the mention, aside from of course the stray threat to their clothing perhaps from some kings they had mentioned. Suffice to say, the story's not complete with a poisoner's cure and a handful of meal to make the edible from out of the otherwise disaster in training.