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| - "Tell me what you think, Gammer Wilde."
- "What do you make of this, Maester Lucas?"
- "I think there is precious little solid, my [lord/lady]. Conjecture and stories. Prophecy and magic are the retreat of the superstitious."
- "I assume he has shared what he found with you, Septa Eleanor?"
- She looks sidelong at the others. "I'm but smallfolk, m'[lord/lady]. Not wise in books or prayers. But wise in dreams, oh yes."
- "I care not for old tales. But this Ring will be ours. Do you think it exits?"
- Maester Lucas enters, with some of your other advisors. "Have you had time to read the pages I marked regarding the Ring, my [lord/lady]?"
- "I don't hold to superstition. But we ought lay claim to the Ring, nonetheless."
- "He has, my [lord/lady]." She hesitates. "I think it's all superstition and heathen nonsense, from the time of the Rhoynar."
- "This ring is a relic of the Rhoynar. It should be ours."
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