The Old Pub... The night is cold and lonely, not a soul in sight. The wind and ice are not afraid to share a little bite. I'm on my way to a fire and ale to shake off the bitter cold. I wish to hear a thousand tales, the ones that the old wans told. Tales of witches and werewolves, and dragon slayers too. These are the types of stories this old Irishman will listen to. Or maybe sing around the fire, old close friends draw near, on this cold winters night, the pub is flowing with ale and good cheer.
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