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The streets bustled. Merchants shouted. Bells rang for prayer, for meals, for meetings. Stone walls held firm, banners snapping in the wind as if nothing beyond them threatened to burn the world down.

To him and the rest of Frost Fire, it felt wrong.

He noticed it first as they passed through the inner gate - how the guards stood relaxed, hands resting near hilts but not gripping them. How no one looked twice at bloodstained cloaks or scarred armor.

Perhaps they have ...

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