I read the plaque on the wall.
"Generic River Painting #756" by Thomas Kinkade
As much as I would have loved to have stabbed the soulless and meaningless painting, I decided it would be stupid. The painting was in a silver frame. The glass covering the painting had smudges on its surface in two places, like someone had placed their hands upon it for one reason or another.
I looked back at the remains of the Birdclaw Brothers. I guess I could have added them to my inventory, but it seemed like carrying the corpses of people I had slaughtered would force me to cross the line between warrior and homicidal maniac.
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