The spirits of poetry and creation have been angered, Paragon, for you have not lived up to your username in their eyes, and in order to appease them you will have to go through many trials and tribulations, facing great danger and impossible foes. After braving marshes full of the fly they call myops and its cruelly barbed jaws, you must make your way through darkest forests and hidden valleys where brigands and worse lurk. Having done this, you will come to the place where a certain herb grows. Picking it, and preparing the appropriate brew from its leaves, you will appease the muses. If not, surely you will perish.
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I have chined up do not fret 
