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But gods, the stench down there—piss, ale, and desperation. Nearly gagged. What got me ragin’? This fat sod tried chargin’ me double—said I looked “highborn.” Cheeky bastard. “I choose violence,” I snapped, and he’s whimperin’, “No, m’lady, take her free!” Free? Ha! Like I’d touch his scraggly leftovers. “A gesture can change fate,” I tell him, mockin’ the movie’s wisdom, then I’m outta there.

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So, I finally get to the river, right? And guess what? My raft’s gone! Like, poof! Vanished! I’m standing there like a lost puppy. I mean, who steals a raft? I’m fuming, ready to throw a fit. I start pacing, thinking about all the times I’ve been nice to people. Did I lend my raft to the wrong person? Did someone think it was a free-for-all? I’m about to start a neighborhood watch for rafts!

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