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#4561
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How smugly that merchant chuckled as he watched the departing thugs drive away, after they had spent a long time hesitating, flexing their muscles menacingly, arguing, not trusting each other, and testing the fruit on a comrade, before finally agreeing to the deal and paying with gold, savoring and anticipating how they would plant the seed of Arcomage in their own home.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.