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... ows of standing stones that framed the plateau’s northern edge. Their polished helms already wore masks of drying salt, proof they had marched the seabed, too. Each held a flame-quencher shield: wide, ridged disks of obsidian-dark alloy treated to smother fire on contact. Their pike-points glimmered blue.
A captain at their front—crest dyed in black ink—raised his fist. "Rebels!" he bellowed across the fifty-pace gap. "Your plague has poisoned the capital! Lay down arms or face pure judg ...
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