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Post by Nymiane on Jun 30, 2005 17:52:33 GMT -4
A brow arose as Breena turned her back to Durst, he was an odd one, or at least seemed to be. These thoughts provoked her thinking further; always quizzical she wondered what had made one such as him so, paranoid. A slight shake of the head was given as she ripped herself from her thoughts, the musings flittering away like birds disturbed. The woman made her way through the woods nimbly, hopping to and fro when there were fallen trees and the like, her grace, obviously from her Elvish lines. Beryl eyes fixated upon the branches, which were pulled back by Gar-Ten. Breena’s eyes shifted towards the side as Durst created the unwanted noise, if he was as paranoid as he seemed to be, why in the goddess’ name would he be so careless as to create such a ruckus?
With annoyance gleaming in her eyes she entered the thicket, her fingers moving towards her chain mail, and soon she peeled it off. It was lightweight, and customized for her, surprisingly it kept her white shirt dry, for there was thick leather padding behind the chain mail armor. Breena draped her wet armor over a low branch, water streaming off of it and onto the dry ground.
“So draw attention to us.”
She muttered, her fingers combing through her auburn hair. The sound of the branches snapping under one’s weight caused her to jerk her head to the side, her fingers itching for the hilt of her blade. Beryl eyes pierced through the darkness with some effort, she gazed upon Gar-Ten, who appeared to be larger with the shadows cast by the flashes of lightning.
“Are you mad?”
Breena turned her head towards Durst and nodded as she glanced back towards Gar-Ten. Let it come to them, let it rush into its blood bath, whatever it was…
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Post by Icor on Jun 30, 2005 18:40:39 GMT -4
Moa’ lowered his thick arm back down to his knee again. His face soon relaxed, and his attention could be seen flickering back and forth between Breena and Gar-Ten; the red irises made his watching all the more visible. His breath could still be heard wheezing faintly in the shelter, though no sound came from his lips. The shrill weeping came from within him, in his chest.
Despite what had been happening, Durst never showed signs of fear. His lack of caution was as odd as the sudden appearance, and of course, disappearance of his “attacker”, so to speak. How could Moa’ know that the beast wouldn’t return, if ever at all? His calm attitude was a either a sign of his unseen knowledge of things, or a sign of his insanity, or both.
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Molkreig
Noble
Mastermind of Foreordination
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Post by Molkreig on Jun 30, 2005 19:21:33 GMT -4
Grougrut gently came to a full stop, the rain continuing to pour down, soaking his clothing. He still heard the voices and movement, but this is the first time since he left Godendar he had fully used the power of thought. He continued to ponder for a few more minutes and an obvious remembrance came to mind. No one this deep in the forest would come unarmed, and anyone with ears would have heard his reckless approach. After much thought it decided on a more unique route of infiltration. He thrusted his axe into the side of a tree, and used it to pull himself up the tree trunk. Then with his other hand he would grab a random branch pull his axe out of the side of the tree. Continuing this over thrusting his axe into the wet wood, he managed to reach the top of the tree, and without making too much noise either. Using the branches of the trees, a bit of jumping, and the rain to cover the noise of his approach, he managed to reach one of the trees right at the edge of the clearing occupied by Breena, Gar-ten, and Moaticus.
His intentions were still not entirely clear even to himself but he decided to loom up in the canopy and wait. Still observing the three warriors, but mostly only Gar-ten and the wolf. after much study he observed that they were most likely Mercenaries or freelancers out to make a sack of gold or two. His mood still not improving dew to the horrid rain, he decided to descend the tree and try to capture one of the three. His descent was slow and cautious, once on the ground he slowly creped into the clearing and drug himself across the damp ground to the drooping pine branches. He assumed that none had detected him so he worked through the pine branches into the small opening under the pine tree.
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Post by lordhebdar on Jul 1, 2005 0:00:42 GMT -4
Gar-ten paid little attention to the others; he only wanted to know where “it” was. Whatever it was, it knew they where there and that they knew it was there. It had stopped moving and because of its lack of breathing he couldn’t pinpoint it. He assumed that it hadn’t moved, for about 10 minuets he stood unmoving, head down eyes closed. Suddenly he heard a sound from behind him, something moving along the ground. The shock could be seen in his eye, it had moved from in font of him to behind without making any sound, and without being seen. Motioning to Callaghan and Durst he took up his axe and started to circle the tree, hoping that they would understand that whatever it was was already inside the tree. Backing away slowly he motioned for them to spread slightly only enough to see that it wouldn’t be able to slip away without being seen.
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Post by Nymiane on Jul 2, 2005 10:35:35 GMT -4
Keen ears perked and strained themselves in effort to find any sound, other than the crackling of the lightning, roaring of the thunder and pounding of the rain. Slim fingers slowly crept over Breena’s shoulder, wrapping around the hilt of her blade and with a fluid motion she unsheathed her sword, taking a step back. Beryl eyes remained focused, as wells as her ears; her eyes shifted to and fro, her ears bringing in all of the sounds, from the rain falling upon the leaves, to the roaring thunder, to a bird rustling in a treetop.
Now as Breena thought to herself, she knew placing the blame was a childish thing to do, yet she could not help but think, would this had happened had Durst silenced himself? Perhaps not though, perhaps it was sent for them. It mattered not, nothing mattered, either way there was soon to be a brawl, correct? A brow arose as she studied the area, Beryl eyes adjusting to the darkness, Breena could see fairly well in the dark, not compared to the Drow’s of course, but enough to keep her alive in the pitch black.
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Post by Icor on Jul 5, 2005 1:06:37 GMT -4
Moa’ stared across the camp. The sounds of the foreigner were behind his tree at this point. The shuffling was incredibly close now, and Durst slowly stood, his back sliding up along the tree without a single sound emanating from him. He turned his cheek to touch the bark, and placed his hands flat against the trunk of the tree by his sides. He held no weapon, and spoke no spells. His red eyes would occasionally flicker back and forth between Breena and the darkness of the woods off to his side. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, making the intent of his frequent peeking quite undeterminable.
Without warning the other two, Durst jumped from his cover, and bent over, arms reaching out toward the alien with hungry ambition. He grunted, taking a-hold of the fiend’s back with both his arms, lifting it easily from where it slithered along the ground on its chest. His fingers curled up under the hem of the top and bottom of the thing’s back-plate, and he spun the creature around quickly before forcing its plated chest against a smaller tree.
Breathing heavily, and now outside of the canopy, water once again beaded on the Drow’s dark, glazed flesh. He pushed his weight against the undead’s back, and freed an arm long enough to give his dagger a breath of fresh air. He placed the sharp point at the back of the beasts skull, right where the neck met it. He sneered his words.
“Speak your intent lest I drive this dagger into your Nexus of thought.”
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Molkreig
Noble
Mastermind of Foreordination
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Posts: 57
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Post by Molkreig on Jul 5, 2005 2:06:54 GMT -4
Grougrut body twitched and squirmed about, his arms franticly jittering about. His head also jerking back and forth, the Nexus in his head insanely juggling information trying to find a way to escape. All of the crevasses of his head began to emit an ominous low crackling noise into the air. He then spoke with frantic speed, attempting to convince Moaticus not to destroy him.
“I am a messenger, release me or suffer greatly the vile wrath of my creator.”
He continued to speak the same words in many separate languages, his voice constantly changing pitches to express a jumble of fear and anger. His arms slowly rested at his side as he became once again calm, the rain continuing to pour about them. He shook his head when ever he could and kick his legs about but he remained very much captured. He began to once again speak but this time in a less ominous more understand able voice.
“You are a man of many friends and relations, I am but a pathetic putrid undead. My plan was to kill you and take all of your items of value, I have done it twice already on my way here. But perhaps we can make some sort of agreement that would benefit both me, and your party. Or perhaps you prefer exercising your dagger skills.”
He then continued to repeat the message in the rest of the languages he was taught. His fear of being re-killed damaged his ability to commune intelegently but he still had a small hope.
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Post by Icor on Jul 5, 2005 17:25:31 GMT -4
Durst listened the thing’s repeated babbling. After a short while, Moa’ lowered the knife and put it away, having never intended to use it in the first place. Now soaked, Moa’ dropped the beast and stepped back toward his two companions, a bit of a swagger in his movement. His long white hair flattened out against his back and over his shoulders, and he turned his eyes carelessly from the creature long enough to gaze upon Gar-Ten and Breena.
“It is a puppet”, Moa’ uttered loudly as to defeat the sound of the rain with his volume, “And it is at our mercy. We’re judges. It will help us to help itself. Speak your opinion, please.”
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Post by lordhebdar on Jul 5, 2005 23:48:06 GMT -4
Gar-ten was surprised by the sudden movements of the drow but showed little sign of it on his face. Watching the drow pin down the undead he had his first time to sum up his strength. He took a step back and just watched and listened to the exchange. He only understood a few of the languages that the undead spoke but he understood the meaning well. When it spoke of killing others for their possessions he tightened his grip in the handle of his axe till his knuckles turned white. As durst backed up and asked what he thought Gar-ten had little trouble speaking his mind.
“This thing has committed murder for nothing but self gain; by its own words it has condemned itself to a second death. And hopefully its last.” He practically spat the words at it. “Besides if we let it live it will only let us live long enough to suit its master’s goals. And never mind trying to get into the Heraldic Libraries with an undead puppet in tow controlled by some unknown necromancer from the south.”
Having spoken his mind he looked from one of his companions to the other. His distrust for anything that allied itself with the south came from the sacking of his village and the death of his wife and daughter. It was still raining and dark out, and for that he was thankful and hopeful that none of then would notice the tears streaming down his face, and the pained look in his eye.
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Molkreig
Noble
Mastermind of Foreordination
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Posts: 57
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Post by Molkreig on Jul 6, 2005 2:02:59 GMT -4
Grougrut slowly stepped back away from durst, his attention dodging back and forth from Durst, Gar-ten, and Breena. He kneeled down on one knee and drew his axe, holding it at his shoulder and mumbling devilish thought to himself. He once again brought himself to his feet and leaned up against one of the trees. He raised one of his arms and began to speak
“You only condemn you own fate by challenging my master. Let only his might see your strength. Fear is a tool of deception, and you show much of it.”
He once again repeated his message in all of his languages, his bony outstretched finger pointing directly at Gar-ten. His hand once again lowered to his side when he finished speaking, his axe flickering as drops of water hit in and flashed into to steam.
“Your deaths were absolute before you were even born. The men I killed on my way here challenged me, and I defended my self. I slaughtered them with only the devotion to the legion, in challenging me they interned challenged my master’s pride. Their deaths were of absolute shame!”
Grougrut’s body once again shook with rage as he spoke but this time he spoke only English and no other languages.
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Post by Icor on Jul 6, 2005 3:20:39 GMT -4
Durst was a heavy breather, and his arms lumbered at his sides without life as his body swelled up with each of his inhales. He looked back and forth between Breena and Gar-Ten for some time, occasionally checking the pawn by the tree. His face was a bit bland though his eyes were wide with attention.
Moa’ raised his hands slowly, listening to the gurgling voice of the fiend, and he shook his head slightly, holding a hand toward Gar-Ten as to gesture waiting to strike just yet. His eyes narrowed on the undead.
“Do not accuse our emotions of having the intent of deceiving, for you have no emotion. You are an entity now only because of your ability to lie.”
Durst’s tangent ended swiftly, and he turned back to Breena again, awaiting her voice in the matter. His expression became stern, and a great amount of patience could be found in his luminescent eyes.
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Post by lordhebdar on Jul 6, 2005 22:13:53 GMT -4
Gar-ten, head down eyes closed, slowly moved his right hand up to around his neck and pulled on a small chain. At the end of the chain was a golden medallion; on the medallion was the insignia of Levis the god of light. Looking directly at the undead he stated with cold authority, “Your master would hardly be the first dark wizard to fall beneath my axe, and you hardly the first puppet. For the past ten years my life has been devoted to protecting the innocent and bringing justice to the guilty. I am one of the warrior priests of Levis. And as long as you serve your master who is evil, you are evil.”
Kissing the medallion he let it fall outside his armor. At that point it seemed to catch a glimpse of the sun through the clouds. It seemed to shine with a light in the darkness all its own. Gar-ten’s face had a hardness now that was more determined and focused than it had ever been, it was almost like looking at a different person. Keeping his blind eye closed he pushed all this hair out of his face and looked at the undead with a glare that would have made even the bravest of morals cringe in fear.
Lifting his axe out of the mushy ground he pointed the bladed end toward the undead. “As a puppet your master must answer for your crimes. As a being of free thought you must liberate yourself from your master or perish forever. The choice is yours but know this, either way I will help you to whatever fate you chose, be it your death or your freedom” His words where spoken with a cold finality and authority, yet in such a way that to each person in the grove it sounded as if he was whispering the words in their ears alone.
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Post by Nymiane on Jul 7, 2005 0:51:49 GMT -4
Breena’s body grew less tense, her eyes still widened from the shock of seeing Durst move that quickly, and use that force. The woman took a step forward, half of her body became drenched, while the other half remained under the cover of the umbrella tree. Beryl eyes lay upon the two figures, occasionally shifting to the side to catch a glimpse of Gar-Ten, but before her was not only Durst, but the foe, or whatever it may be. A cursed skeleton? A tool, for someone’s use, no doubt. As the bones spoke, she noted a few different languages it spoke in, her mind swirling with information, her eye lids slanted to the side and a roll of the eye was given. Slim fingers loosened their grip upon the hilt of the blade and a less threatening stance was taken as she saw Durst pull back.
“Everyone knows that they are mere pawns..”
Her voice quickly left her lips, dressed in disgust and soon her face contorted to match her vocals. Disgust plastered upon he face, much like stray locks of hair was plastered upon it. The face of the woman was quite serious, but as the bone bag began to further his little speech, she let out a chuckle, a rather loud one. A tool speaking of them, as tools?
“Fool! Who are you to speak of tools? Are you not one yourself? Oh, yes, you are…you are one indeed. We are indeed all tools, all pawns of the Goddess, but there are those who are even beneath us. You are indeed one of them.”
As swiftly as her words left her mouth Breena jerked her head to the side, Gar-Ten’s voice emitted into the air, and a light streamed forward into the darkness. She squinted and shook her head, there was no need for that type of dramatics, as if it were going to change this daft pawn’s mind..
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Post by Icor on Jul 7, 2005 2:54:34 GMT -4
Durst looked back and forth between Breena and the undead cretin. He shifted his jaw to one side, rain pouring down his back. The white cloth of his shirt became plastered to his skin, and it hung off him like a fatty layer of its own. He was forced to speak with a loud voice, but as usual, it didn’t carry well, and he sounded quite pathetic.
“The Goddess makes tools or toys of everyone”, Moa’ concurred with Breena, though it didn’t seem like he was proud of his remark in any way. He made little regard to Gar-Ten’s thoughts or feelings with his agreeing either, still not fully understanding of the difference between the goals of light-walkers, and shadow-walkers.
The two crimson eyes of Moaticus jumped back and forth between the zombie and the two behind him, and he still held a lazy hand toward Gar-Ten. He looked comfortable in the rain, which had its own degree of intimidation.
“We are still in the south, my friends. The fiend killed just like everyone else – they see right and wrong differently than us. You cannot carry out what you believe to be law on something that has different morals than you; else you become what you despise.”
Durst turned back to the fiend, and ground his teeth into one another.
“I beg of you, do not feed him the right to kill us because we are the aggressors. Choose wisely, and we will force him to back away from his twisted honor.”
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Post by lordhebdar on Jul 7, 2005 13:53:43 GMT -4
“Undead puppets have no honor, no morality” Gar-ten said soft enough for just his two companions to hear him. “It was once a man, and it can be given its mind back, it has been done before, it can be done again. Yet, as it is now, it cannot remain. It must be destroyed or given its freedom. I have made the offer; I have given it the choice. Its fate is now its own choosing.”
Gar-ten stood still as a stone statue, unmoving, unblinking. Still with his axe held out, the rain beating off his wolf cloak and armor, the blades of his axe held out horizontally. The light that shone from his medallion gave him an eerie, almost, otherworldly glow. Still glaring at the undead he raised his voice, thunderous in the quiet of the forest. “You have been given a choice!” His voice echoed through the quiet wood. “You must now be the master of your own fate, chose.”
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Molkreig
Noble
Mastermind of Foreordination
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Posts: 57
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Post by Molkreig on Jul 8, 2005 0:59:37 GMT -4
“I lost the chance at my fate, my true fate, in death I was damned. But I was pulled out of it by my new master. It's not my decision but at least I can say that I dedicate my existence to something, what do you dedicate you life to? Your twisted sense of justice perhaps, you dead goddess, some other pathetic excuse to keep living? I told you I am not a murderer, I am a deceiver. I tempted them to attack me through their hatred towards me, and I defended myself. And you destroy me for it? Is it just my ‘Evil mind’ or does that kind of behavior have a name? Oh… Yes I do believe it’s called a tyrant. Is that what you want light-walker?”
Grougrut simply peered blankly at the three. His body remaining completely still as the rain continued to pour about him.
“You hate me and my master for our crimes, where I come from what I did was not a ‘crime’. If you don’t like that then get the hell out of the south!”
Once again the skeletons voice bobbled about in pitch, his rage still being exerted. The fear had all left him, only the service to his master remained. And Grougrut would never die unless in service.
“You are a disease, all of you! You’ll never understand because you don’t want to, even if you did you would always have that pathetic little religion crying out in the back of you mind. You have never protecting others, only yourselves, only you dieing belief. In a church such as your how do you trust your superiors, how do you define good or evil? You say the greater good when you fight but you all just want what we want, power. I do not strive to be destroyed, but it will be an eternal honor to serve my true master to the end. Which is less than what can be said for you! You follow only your lust, and you assume the same for me. I follow a wielder of true power, to bring forth life from the darkness of death, in my mind that’s something worth worshiping.”
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Post by lordhebdar on Jul 8, 2005 11:03:36 GMT -4
Sinking his axe once more into the soft ground deep enough to stand on its own he let it go. With slow deliberate movements he lifted his hands and undid the broach on his cloak. Tossing it onto the evergreen so as to keep in off the ground he then took of his armor and likewise his tunic till the only thing covering his chest was the medallion. Standing before them his upper torso showing, all could see the scars. Up and down his torso and arms, front and back, some deep some long. Looking at the undead, knowing that it was totally free in its thought he had to either convince it of the truth or send it to the grave once more.
“Is this the kind of body you would expect from a man who lived only for himself, lived to make himself comfortable?” His voice was soft, almost remorseful but in the silence of the grove it carried well. “All if these scars where obtained by either bringing the guilty to justice or defending those who could not defend themselves.” The rain had stopped and the clouds were getting thinner but the sun was still hidden behind them. Looking down he said “You think that there is no absolute right and wrong, whatever you and your master think is right you do. Yet no matter where you are Levis’ laws apply, north or south, east or west, it makes no difference. And as a warrior priest of Levis I exist to uphold his laws and protect the innocent. If you fallow your master simply because of his power why not fallow Levis, his power is vaster than that of any mortal.”
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Molkreig
Noble
Mastermind of Foreordination
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Posts: 57
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Post by Molkreig on Jul 9, 2005 2:13:36 GMT -4
“I said you strive for your self, you scars were earned protecting the living because you want to become renowned. I am a servant of my master because I swore. I shall never forsake that. And no one like you is going to make me, I honor only your integrity, not your ability to judge. You find the need to kill me because I did wrong, I find the need to survive only because my master wills it. I’m sure your god is great and all but he will never be as much of a factor in my existence as my master.”
Grougrut’s thoughts were at rest, his fear and his hate are gone and all that remains is his trust and faith. Grougrut new he would soon be away from these people in one way or the other, but this Gar-ten would find the right to judge him weather or not he deserved it.
“You should just leave me to my biasness, and I can leave you to yours. I don’t care what you think about justice, and it will never be the same as my thoughts. Your medallions and your trinkets a constant reminder of who you follow, if mercy is among you attributes then kill me you will not. The destruction of my master would be more justifiable.”
Then Grougrut bowed his head prepared for whatever was soon to happen.
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Post by lordhebdar on Jul 9, 2005 20:48:50 GMT -4
“My name will pass from this earth when I die. What you don’t understand is selfless sacrifice, the free giving of oneself for the betterment of all.” Gar-ten said and he slowly moved himself forward. “You know very well that I cannot let you leave to kill again.” Squaring himself up to the undead, he spun his axe and took it in both hands vertically in front of him. Malthag having up to this point remained quietly behind his master, placed himself to his right side. Arching his back and showing his teeth he let out a subhuman growl that was felt more than heard. Three seconds, no one moved or made a sound, the tension in the air was so think it felt as if you could cut through it with a knife, those three seconds felt like eternity. Then in the blink of an eye Gar-ten twisted his right foot and bounded off to the left at the same time that Malthag bounded to the right. He and Malthag started to arch back toward the undead at the same time, when he did he let the head of his axe drop to the left of himself. Grabbing it again just before he hit the ground he swung it up at an angle from the left toward the undead at the same time that Malthag lunged at him from the right.
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Post by Nymiane on Jul 9, 2005 22:30:18 GMT -4
“Silence. Will you! The pawn holds truth, though twisted. Who is to say one is evil, or one is pure? You are never really on the <I> right </I> side..”
Breena quirked a brow as she slipped her sword into it’s sheathe, her poise now quite comfortable. She wondered to herself if her words actually made sense, for she was mainly thinking out loud. The woman raised her hand toward the puppet and smiled a genuine one, her words then slipped forward once again.
“Do not classify me with the rest, I beg to differ.”
This time Breena’s voice was different, it was the same softness, but it pierced through the wicked wind and pounding rain. Slowly her fingers curled into her palms, forming fists, her head jerked to the side as she glared upon the towering figure, Gar-Ten.
“Do you know the meaning of SILENCE? Do you think this minion really cares of your preaching? You serve your master, I serve mine, and he serves his. Where is he wrong?”
It was useless; words fell upon deaf ears, a sigh passed from Breena’s lips as she unsheathed her sword. The blade shimmered in the dim lighting, the woman ran to the side, her lithe body dancing in the darkness, her sword pointed towards the sky as she leapt up. Soon she came crashing down, her sword on top of the axe. With gritted teeth she spoke, strand hairs dangling in her face, the rain cascading down the silken skin.
“Did you not hear me?”
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