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sympathetic-ally2
1/6/2025
"An elven bard collapses to the ground on the outskirts of a small, grim trading post. His fine clothing, now torn and muddied, clings to his slender frame as blood seeps from the crossbow bolt lodged in his chest. His lute lies discarded nearby, half-buried in the dirt. Behind him, the glow of the trading post’s tor..."