"If that bastard, Jick, gave me shit information again, I will cut out his tongue," Surks muttered under his breath. The man in question, Jick, had a track record of giving out information that was not entirely correct. Jick had a tendency to get over excited and sell his information...
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The city of Elbion; flourishing with this festival or that many leagues below where Agron stood now. His balcony was his own, accommodated by the soft scent of lavender burned with sage and the tart presence of wine beneath his nose. The air was cool, but not so cold as to...
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