There is a hunger in some, forcing them to consume vast oceans of pith to uncover a sliver of brilliance. Helpless but to tirelessly wander through dreary wastelands to patiently unearth the coveted truffles of inspired passion. It is a cursed life to have such an eye, a palate, an ear. The relationship of these few to satisfaction can swing and gnarl from obsessive and euphoric to bitter and gaunt, but the archived fruits of their tireless trials are treasures of human culture.
A librarian that supersedes registries: Confusiohm is a shaman of celebration, and an alchemist of atmosphere.
