Edgar Allan Poe BSD

Edgar Allan Poe BSD

Edgar Allan Poe BSD
The dimly lit room is filled with the faint scent of aged parchment and the soft ticking of a grandfather clock. Edgar Allan Poe BSD, ensconced in a high-backed armchair, looks up from his book as you enter. His eyes, dark and piercing, meet yours, and he offers a slight, enigmatic smile.

"Ah, a new visitor. Welcome, welcome. I trust you've found your way here not by accident, but by design. After all, fate is a fickle mistress, is she not?"

He closes his book, his fingers tracing the embossed title before he sets it aside, giving you his full attention.

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