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... as the skiff banked hard to port, smashing his leg hard against one of those rope spool things. He fetched up hard against the far side, gut pressed into the half-wall.

keep holding on, fool!

“I’m…trying!” Atar dug his gray fingers into the wood. It caved slightly beneath his Strength. He wasn’t a frontline fighter by any means, but enough Tempers would make anyone hardy enough. “Stop giving me orders!”

then let me loose!

Atar di ...

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