Accursed race of Tiriel. behold your father // Come forth & look on her that bore you. come you accursed sons.
“Maledian merwolf hair?” suggested Galvin, waving his hand over a clear pouch bulging with coarse blue hair.
Don’t hit it left.... Don’t hit it in the water.... Playing by don’ts won’t get the job done.
The shelf bowed under the weight of the books.
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