A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. Thanks. You shall have your reward. She’s taken my sword. It was about—a question of what I might do or might not do. I am always reinventing myself with new styles. "But, though the storm has spared him, I will not.
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