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About Innsbruck

Me, I’m torn—part of me’s mad, like, why’s this even a thing? Folk sellin’ themselves coz the world’s gone rotten—pisses me off! But then, I’m surprised too—some lasses choose it, run the show, stackin’ gold like Smaug’s hoard. Power in a powerless spot, eh? Kinda wild. “How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot?”—hah, not bloody likely here! These gals ain’t blameless, but they’re scrappin’ by.