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The Wilderness of Cyphrus is an endless sea of tall grass that rolls just like the oceans themselves. Geysers kiss the sky with their steamy breath, and mysterious craters create microworlds all their own. But above all danger lives here in the tall grass in the form of fierce wild creatures; elegant serpents that swim through the land like whales through the ocean and fierce packs of glassbeaks that hunt in packs which are only kept at bay by fires. Traverse it carefully, with a guide if possible, for those that venture alone endanger themselves in countless ways.

Ruat Caelum

Postby Konrad Venger on February 25th, 2017, 3:01 am

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16th Bell- 82nd Day of Winter, 516AV - Just Outside Endrykas


It wasn't the place itself; it was what it was lacking. Namely, people. Of course, he couldn't shut out Endrykas entirely. It was too large and raucous a place, for one, and for another... well, it wasn't smart to put it too far out of his sight. The Sea of Grass was a roiling mess of dead vegetation, dying animals, and rabid predators. The more of the first, the more the second, the more desperate the last became.

So Konrad did not stray too far, nor keep his sword too far from him... though it was no longer strapped to him.

It felt odd. Unnatural. Made him nervous, like he had to reach out or peek out one eye to make sure it was still there, kukri and dagger and throwing knife arrayed next to it. Wasn't what he needed, of course, but he couldn't help it.

Choke it down. Bloody hurt trying to sit with all that on you.

And sitting he was. In breeches and bare feet, hardened soles ignoring the crackling dead grass under them. He'd padded along cobbles and bricks before as a boy, the prairie held no new terrors for his feet. Sleeveless vest that had become more common on him than the long, black duster that he'd become notorious for in Sunberth, and speaking of notoriety-

The hat stayed on his head. Some things were sacred, after all. And kept Syna from frying his skull like an egg.

See your outline. See your edges. Know them and feel them and see them...

Fortunately, he'd been doing this enough that his own mind didn't roar with amazed laughter at his stupid petching words. More importantly, he knew them to work. It had been difficult, equally unnatural, wrapping his sellsword mind around the words that Ed'yta had imparted to him, the aid she'd tried to give. It had been a long, frustrating bell, and all for a glimpse, a shimmer, the merest dusting of gold after a long day panning.

It was enough for Konrad. Dusting or head-sized nugget, it proved the same thing. He could do this. He could master this wyrd, too.

His breathing was steady, rote, in and out, until the monotony of it drowned out the braying life behind him, arrayed in stables and makeshift pastures and pavilions. The hiss of his breath filling his nose... then a long, full sigh as he emptied himself... over and over... each breath fueling his mind and the image he saw there, of himself.

The edges of him. Skin and scars he knew too well. Tattoos and muscle. All that was real and true in his world, not the djed and magic he'd become to familiar with. Konrad's brow quirked just a little, as if he'd been unpleasantly reminded of something... and that wasn't too far from the truth.

Don't bury yourself in that shyke. Focus.

His Reimancy was an aid, there. He knew there was a well, a whole river of magic under his skin, running through his veins and his bones, invisible and ethereal until he decided to pluck it out of himself. He'd seen it, and it was real.

In... out... in... out... seeing himself... separating himself... floating up from his body, barely feeling the grass, the wind, the hint of static on his tongue that spoke of coming storm, the breath in his lungs-

-the thing clutched in his hand. His example.

The Sunberth man sat with his back to Endrykas, and bit by bit, the world dissolved around him, and he opened his hand.

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Ruat Caelum

Postby Sloane on February 25th, 2017, 3:28 pm

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Over the past days, Sloane had begun to realise that the season's end was fast becoming more of a trial than the beginning had been. Rather than be thrown from the Pavilion and left to fend for herself, she'd agreed to Kadir's demands, and in a few short days' she'd found herself accepting Haigen's advances, instead of responding with the blunt rejection that she'd have prefered. In short order she'd found herself and her belongings' moved, so that she now shared a tent with her prospective husband, her old tent now used for storage as it had been before she'd joined them. Despite everything, Haigen didn't seem any more pleased than Sloane herself, still communicating with grunts and pointing and still for the most part pretending she was nothing more than a walking uterus.

Needless to say, Sloane spent as much time as she possibly could away from the pavilion, working longer hours at the Duskstep and exploring Endrykas and the Sea of Grass when she wasn't needed there. It was one of those day's, Sloane having set out that morning on foot, in search of the herb Batonal, which had been described to her by Whayhana. The pavilion used it in cooking, and for when the young one's had stomach aches, and it was apparently an easy enough plant to distinguish. Sloane only hoped that the plant was able to survive the strange winter, which at this rate seemed unlikely.

She'd hadn't strayed too far from Endrykas, doing her best to stay within hearing distance as she wandered, picking her way carefully through the grass and undergrowth, keeping a wary eye out for snakes and other animals she may disturb. She moved slowly, her body achy and tired from days' of ceaseless work and sleepless nights, her limp hair pulled into a sloppy braid and dark marks under her eye's. She was growing irritated by Haigen's bad attitude and nightly attentions, and both mind and body were beginning to reflect that.

She hadn't been surprised when he'd reached for her the first night, well aware that he was only tolerating her for her ability to bear him children, but that didn't change the fact that she loathed the man's touch. Kicking at some underbrush, Sloane made a conscious effort to banish him from her thoughts, putting her full energy and attention into surveying the land around her, eye's searching for a squat bush with rounded leaves. Hana had assured her that the scent that the bush emitted would be proof enough that she'd found the right one, and Sloane hoped that was true, because so far everything looked the same to her.

Glancing around, her gaze caught on a figure through the grass, barely visible and sitting down. Frowning, Sloane crept closer, plant's momentarily forgotten and her hand falling slowly to the dagger at her belt. She rocked up on her toes to peer through the grass, half expecting the worst possible outcome; a Zith, or perhaps a bandit, crouched and waiting to attack. Instead she caught a glimpse of a man wearing a wide brimmed hat, and an array of weapons spread on the ground in front of him. Shoulders slumping, Sloane sighed, wondering briefly if she'd rather Hansel or a bandit as she approached him.

He was sitting cross legged, silent and still, his eye's closed, and Sloane moved as silently as she possibly could, cutting a wide circle around, until she stood in front of him. A small, immature part of her wanted to take his weapons and hide them, but she refrained, getting the feeling that it would end badly for her. Sighing, she took a single step closer, purposely bringing her foot down to crunch loudly through a dried out tangle of weeds and twigs, watching him carefully. "Hansel." She grunted moodily, arms crossing over her chest as she stared down at him. "What are you doing?"

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Postby Konrad Venger on February 26th, 2017, 11:22 am

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It was a coyote claw. As the image of it became clear and sharp in his mind, his memory attempted to besiege him with memories of how he'd got it. The failed trap the night before, the wrangling with Jonas to get a mount, his two reluctant companions. The caravan. The girl.

He forced them back. Built high his walls and focused only on the curved shred of sharpened bone that he'd kept from the hunk of half-rotting meat he'd claimed from the Sea of Grass. A reminder, he supposed, but one that was actually useful to him now.

Konrad thought of his own hand, the empty one. He opened it, fingers splayed, pointing upward... and just like before... he started to ease away the outlines of paltry flesh. It seemed so insane to him, thinking he could just refashion his own body just by imagining it... but how insane would it have been, a year ago, to imagine himself conjuring fire and water?

It will get easier. But it starts here: small. Like always.

Digits and palm and nails and hair became indistinct in his mind. Contours and boundaries smudged away, like the charcoal paintings of beggars washed away from the stones in the rain. He could... almost feel them... no, they were there. But they were not all of him. It was his mind, and his will, that made them real, and as he exhaled, with closed eyes he looked from one hand to the other and...

Tickling. Tingling. Scraping under his skin. Imagining the last knuckle of his index finger twisting, shimmering, turning in on itself and then lengthening, curving, sharpening.

He opened his eyes... and saw the coyote claw in his other hand. Simple and dead and solid on his palm. Gaze calm and focused, he turned his head and felt a breeze on his cheek. More like he was aware of it: long chimes in his meditation had meant his own body felt alien to him, yet did not dispel his surprise when he looked over and saw-

Crunch

The single, telling sound was enough to destroy the mindset of the budding mage and bring the Sunberth bootboy screaming back to prominence. Konrad hissed as his knitting flesh snapped back into its true form, leaving behind a sting of half-used djed burning his digit as it did. By the time the air had been angrily sucked into his lungs he'd already moved-

-up on one knee, squatting fit to lunge-

-one hand snapped out to snatch his sword, the other for-

"Hansel. What are you doing?"

And there she was. Of course. It had to be her, after all. Who else would the gods send to ruin his practice? Who else in Endrykas could he practically guarantee would muddy his thoughts and drag them away from more productive areas? But resolute and resentful as he was, Konrad couldn't help his grimace soften for just a moment. Something close to... relief, seeped into his eyes.

It had been days since she'd stormed off and he'd let her. Better for them both, he'd decided, and believed it. Truly he did. Now all she had to do was return, as petulant and bratty as she was the second time they met, when he'd been messing up with his throwing knife and she was spitting her (half)wit at him.

His lip twitched. On the good side. He opened his mouth and-

Then reality crashed down onto his head like a hammer. Like a trap he was sensing in the wind, a creature padding down a quiet lane that suddenly just knows snares and spikes wait for it.

Nothing good can come of this. Send her back on her way and be done with it.

"None of yer biz'niss," he said, channeling that gruff, crude creature she'd first met in the wreckage of her old life, restrained only by those two sugar-and-spice Drykas women. "Ain't youse got chores t'do? Better things t'don'n follow me around?"

Damn. The question was a mistake. Gave her an opening. A reason to stick around. Should have just hurled some more curses her way, his usual charming petching self, and been done with it. Instead he... damnit. He looked down and away from her, studying the claw, committing yet more of it to memory. Anything but look up into those cold, imperious eyes. He feared them not, but feared how he'd rise to the challenge of them, and that was how all this bollocks started in the first place.

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Postby Sloane on February 26th, 2017, 1:00 pm

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Sloane was hardly surprised by Hansel's less than pleased reaction to her. He wanted to get rid of her, that much was clear, and Sloane would be damned if she was going to let him have his way, she was still as stubborn as she'd been the first time they'd met. "Tch, trust me, I'm not following you around." She snapped back, stepping closer to peer down at the object he held, her face twisting with distaste when she saw what it was. "Finally go properly mad, did you?" She grunted, the manky looking paw both disgusting her and raising her interests another notch. "Collecting animal bits and sitting around like Glassbeak bait? Seems like a good way to waste a day."

Seeing him sitting out in the grass was too strange a sight for her to leave, especially without an explanation, so Sloane shrugged her bag off her shoulder and dropped it beside his weapons, lowering herself gingerly to sit in front of him. She tucked her legs under herself, wincing ever so slightly as the muscles from her legs through to her back twinged and pulled in disapproval. "You look suspicious, and I wanna know what's going on." She said bluntly, her gaze lingering where his weapons sat, before turning back to him with a raised brow. Truthfully, that wasn't the only reason Sloane lingered, but she'd rather press her face to hot coals than speak the truth.

If she was to be honest with herself, she would admit that she stayed because, pathetically enough, Hansel was her only friend in Endrykas. There was Katrine and Hana, of course, and her work mates at the Duskstep pavilion, but did she really trust them? No. Did she trust Hansel? For the most part, yes. A strange, brutish, murderer he may be, one who'd threatened and insulted her numerous times, and yet she still found more comfort and trust in him than any of the Drykas. Perhaps it was because they shared the Common language, or the fact that neither of them belonged in Endrykas. Gaze steady and as calm as she could will it to be, Sloane leant back, arms propped up behind her, and pushed the thoughts from her mind, "Well?"

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Postby Konrad Venger on February 27th, 2017, 4:55 pm

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[indentThe smart thing would have been to just walk away. Gather up his weapons, let all her barbs and snark wash over him like impotent water over a silent rock, turn on his heel and not stop walking until he hit the city. By that point, if she had a brain in her head, she'd leave him be.

What he'd said before was accurate then just as it was in that moment: people talked, and they talked most about men and women. Even if there was no truth to the words, they still talked, and she had much to lose.

Should have. Past tense. Because like an idiot, he didn't.

"Wouldnae be the first t'call me 'mad'," he grumbled as he leaned over and started snatching his weapons back, sliding and sheathing them with quiet precision. "An' what the petch're youse doin' out here?"

He stood and leaned over in the same movement, scooping up his kopis in its sheath, getting a whiff from the bag next to her. Herbs and plants. Ah, well, that explained her trip. Not how she just happened to come across him, but a solid enough excuse-

Stop thinking like that. There's no scheme, or plot, or secret intent. She was out here, you were out here, paths crossed. Now sod off before you spout out anymore crap.

He'd reared back up to his full height by the time he'd lashed the sword to him, and she'd shot out her latest sentence. Suspicious? Only now did he look suspicious to her? He almost smiled at that. Generally people were suspicious of Konrad before he'd even stepped into the room and their eyes; he seemed to carry that dark intent with him in a radius that flowed out for yards around him. But Sloane? It took her a while.

He looked down at her and saw a hurt she was trying to mask; a facade of anger and fearless sass that was genuine, yes, but not all she carried in her eyes. He studied her from the shadows cast by his hat, and he waited, for...

Exactly. Now go, damn you.

"You should go back to yer people. Dunt want them gettin' suspicious 'bout where y'are."

That should have been it. He could have started walking, still clutching the coyote claw, and been away before she got her thoughts collected enough to reply... maybe. But instead he kept looking. Kept remembering. Tried to rack his memory for the last time he'd been able to just talk to someone other than Sedon, and even then, he had to be careful. The portly Drykas seemed nice enough, but he was still a staunch supporter of his ankal, and Jonas, well...

Konrad was alone. By his actions, his nature, and the machinations of a man who he'd already sworn to kill. Some day. When the time was right. So what did that leave him? More accurately, who?

"... you dunt need t'know everythin' 'bout me, girl."

Then he turned. Then he started walking. When it was already too late, and he knew it.
[/indent]

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Postby Sloane on February 28th, 2017, 2:38 pm

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Groaning, Sloane pushed herself to her feet, snatching up her bag as Hansel grabbed his weapons and stood. She pulled the strap over her shoulder, face twisting into a displeased frown as he mentioned her 'people'. She pinned the man with an irritated stare, arm's flapping erratically. "What people?" She snapped. For a moment she regretted coming over to the man, it seemed that whenever the two of them met they had to have some sort of misunderstanding. "All of my people are in Syliras, probably thinking that I'm happy and safe in Riverfall by now." Sloane glanced away, chest seizing at the thought, though her voice and face remained hard and angry.

The thought that her father and her brothers were totally unaware of what had happened to her hurt. She'd known when she'd left Slyiras that it'd be a long while until she saw them again, possibly years until she was able to return, or until they were able to make the journey down to see her. And now, even if they did, they'd never know that she was stuck here, surrounded by horses and dung. It was something that Sloane did her best not to think about too much, pushing the gut twisting homesickness and worry to the back of her mind.

Despite all that, Sloane had to admit that the fierce exchange of words was doing wonders at taking a weight off of her shoulders, allowing her to release some of the tension, anger and frustration that had been building in her over the past days. "But instead, I'm here choosing to waste my patience on you, you prick." She started after him, steps rapid as she caught up with the much taller man, drawing alongside him. "And who the petch said I wanted to know everything about you, huh?" She reached out, grabbing for his arm and tugging at him to slow his pace. "I'm sure there's plenty that I don't want to know. Just... Stop walking, and talk to me for a moment." She huffed, deflating somewhat. "Or does a little blonde woman frighten you?"

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Postby Konrad Venger on February 28th, 2017, 4:47 pm

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Konrad may have changed a great deal since Pridesun and his disciples had dragged him from his own blood out of the Sea and into Endrykas, but not so much that her sob story could make much of a dent in him. He'd heard too many, perhaps. Delivered on knees or backs or bellies, spewing blood and begging for mercy, for their wives and children, that they might see them again.

He hadn't listened then. Didn't care then. That hadn't changed. He kept stomping through the grass and let her whine and rage. Until she insulted him, of course. Then those same Sunberth instincts slowed his feet and bought his glare snapping around to her.

Stupid.

She was like a puppy struggling to keep up with some gnarly old hound, almost jogging to match his long, ground-eating strides. But there was that determination, stamped all over that beautiful face, making it all the more radiant for being something more than just good looks. She'd decided what she wanted to do and that was that.

Konrad had to respect that; he'd respected her courage when they first met in the Sea of Grass, even though it would usually have meant he'd have to break her. But that was just business. She was just another bit of business.

Simpler times.

The man growled and turned away. Then he felt a tug on his arm and reacted before he thought; snatched it away and yet stopped, whipping his head around and contemplating letting loose something really nasty to get her to petch the hell off. Her last words would have been the perfect trigger. Calling his manhood into question, his bravery.

Wind whistled and animals brayed a a city chugged on beyond them both, man and woman, staring each other down on the parched plain. Konrad stared down and hated her. For making things complicated. Simpler times: when everyone was either prey, employer or enemy. Then she and a precious few others had come along and suddenly the street daemon had... other categories to consider.

Because he couldn't just discard them. And he had no idea why.

"You need t'mind your mouth," he said after a long time, voice as low and dangerous as ever, but at least he was talking to her. "An' be mindful of where y'are."

He started walking again. Abandoned her again. Ignored her again. That would have been the assumption, until-

"Are you comin' or what?"

That place was too isolated. Anyone watching would assume a rendezvous, illicit and designed to be private. Well, that's not what this was. If anyone did see them, Konrad wanted people to see that he was among the Drykas, not hiding in the Sea of Grass for... whatever reason they might gossip about.

Konrad was't letting his mind go there. At least not outside of his tent.

He called over his shoulder and slowed down, just enough for her to catch up. Endrykas was in sight but still a ways away, maybe twenty chimes of steady walking. He waited until she was at his side again and huffed, frustration clear on his face.

"You're a pain in my petchin' arse, girl." He paused and took a long pull from his water skin, before roughly slapping it into her hands. "An' I was tryi' out somethin' new."

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Postby Sloane on March 1st, 2017, 1:40 pm

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Hansel grabbed her hand and whipped around, causing Sloane to jerk to a halt, face falling flat and eye's shuttering as she prepared for the worst. She knew he disliked being touched, but she was a naturally tactile person and just couldn't help it at times. Of course she'd also known that her words would irritate him, otherwise she wouldn't have bothered with them, and so she wasn't particularly surprised, that is, she wasn't until the nasty words she's been expecting failed to come at all.

Finally, he spoke, and Sloane's face softened when she was simply met with a warning, instead of the cruel, spitting insults that she'd have received at the beginning of the season. When he turned again, Sloane hesitated, wondering if a shaky friendship was really worth chasing after the man all day, but Hansel solved her problem when he called to her from over his shoulder. Sloane brightened considerably, and hurried to catch up with him once again, a small, reserved smile tweaking her lips when he slowed for her.

"I'm glad you think so." She replied cheekily, peering up at him. "A pain is exactly what I was trying to be. I think you deserved a little pay back after last time." Sloane continued, ignoring the little twist in her stomach at the thought of their last meeting and the series of events it had helped to kick into gear. He'd been right in what he'd said, and all in all, Sloane had ended up following his advise, but that didn't change the fact that his delivery had hurt her. She took the skin from him gratefully, taking a few gulps before handing it back to him. "Something new? Like... a magic thing?" Sloane wondered, raising a brow at him as she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. "Is it like the fire and water stuff you can do? Oh! Did Ed'yta teach you something?"

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Postby Konrad Venger on March 2nd, 2017, 11:39 am

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If she was expecting an apology, she was seriously mistaking him for a walahk inclined to give those out. But Konrad knew she wasn't. Even as he glanced at her through narrow eyes, he saw now eager, predatory anticipation of the words. She accepted what happened and now blithely skipped past it, lips quirked up in an irreverent bow, handing back his water and already bursting with more questions.

Strange girl, he thought quietly, taking the skin back and tipping back a few slugs before hooking it back onto his belt. All she's endured and she's still smiling.

Could you have done that?

All she's endured
, he reminded himself, as plains and grass gave way to pavilions and camp fires and acres of horse shyke. Not all I've endured.

"Aye, 'tis magic," he said, choosing to plow on rather than dwell on past questions. "Somethin' that old woman tol' me about, after youse... left."

Konrad looked around and jutted his chin sharply at a patch of ground between two pavilions. Not in anyone's way, but not hiding, either. He plopped down without waiting for her and gestured to the grass opposite him.

"An' I taught me'self, in point a' fact," he continued, and actually managed something approaching a cocky grin. Cocky. He hadn't done that in twenty bloody years, and with her, it came easily. "Idea I came up wiv' tryin' t'do what she tol' me about. Somethin' called Morphin'."

He opened his hand again and Sloane could see the curved, yellowed bone. Fat and rounded at one end, tapering elegantly, perfectly, into a razor-sharp claw. Not as huge and rending as a wolf's or nightlion's, but easily big enough to rend skin. Konrad turned it over and over, as if memorizing each fraction of it, and then he straightened his back... and closed his eyes...

"Now, I know this may be hard fer youse to grasp," he said, voice wavering somewhere between deadly serious and deadpan wit. "But I need somethin' like quiet t'manage this, an' it's better if I show ya, rather than tell ya. So, jus'... wait for it."

He didn't tell he what it was. As he sat there in the dark, slowing starting to filter out all the sounds of Endrykas from his mind, Konrad chuckled inwardly.

When it happens, she'll know it... and I'll probably hear it.

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Postby Sloane on March 4th, 2017, 2:43 am

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Sloane sat again, settling herself carefully across from Hansel and restraining a laugh when she compared the small space she covered to the large sprawl of long limbs that her companion made up. He grinned at her and she returned it, rolling her eyes playfully at his cocky attitude, and leaning back on her hands comfortably. Morphin'? She wondered to herself. It rang a bell, and Sloane could distantly remember a childhood story about a old wench disguising herself as a princess. Sloane's brows only rose higher at the thought, for a brief moment picturing Hansel in a fluffy dress, trying to pass himself off as a princess. Sloane snorted and banished the thought from her mind, returning her attention to the man as he spoke.

She leaned forward as he held out his hand, revealing the claw of some animal. Sloane hummed uncertainty, eyes flicking to Hansel's face and taking in the concentrated look he bore. A bone hadn't been what she was expecting, and it didn't exactly fit with her idea of Morphing, what little she knew anyway. Hansel spoke again, and Sloane eyed him with a mix between amusement and irritation, and even though his eye's were closed she mimed locking up her lips and throwing away the key sarcastically. Still insanely curious, Sloane leant close and watched, eye's tracing over his hand as she waited for something to happen.

Common ~ Pavi ~ Thoughts
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Sloane
Going just to keep going
 
Posts: 148
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Joined roleplay: November 21st, 2016, 12:58 pm
Location: Endrykas
Race: Human
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