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Chapter 2: The End of Normal
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Chapter 4: The Grueling March
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... hey weren’t running well. More like stumbling, gasping, crashing through underbrush like wounded animals. Their clothes were stitched from dark brown hides, stained with blood and mud and things better left unidentified. The leader was tall with a potbelly that bounced as he ran, a tangled mane of brown hair, and what might have once been a white Taoist robe.
"Hurry! Run, you useless wastes!" He barked over his shoulder, spittle flying. "Slow me down and I’ll cut you all down myself!" ...
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