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Forge of Destiny - Theads 176-Emissary 11
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... ther had a hard and ugly job, respected by no one, least of all herself.”
Storytelling was not really a skill she practiced, but it was not so different from singing. There was a cadence to it, and it had the same effort of condensing complex meaning into more concise lines.
She drummed her fingers on the table as memories came back. Mortal memories were such funny things, soft and fuzzy and unclear compared to memories after cultivation. But she still remembered the contour ...
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