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“No,” Khiiral said in common tongue to the human blacksmith. He had examined the blades offered here extensively and nothing had caught his eye that showed this man had the talent nor skill he was looking for. He heard the blacksmith curse him under his breath, mentioning something about a elf...

It had been three days since the fever started and the cough was only getting worse. Khiiral held his son tight against his chance, patting the toddlers back as soothingly as he could. There was a certain tempo that his wife had which he could never grasp. Needless to say, despite him...