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Chapter 9:. Allies
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Chapter 11:. Arrival in Tiranat
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... f his small shop.
He stood inside his shop, his bony hand resting on the rough-hewn wood. He ran a weary hand over his thinning gray hair, the dust inside the shop clinging to his calloused fingers. Unlike the plump, overflowing sacks that used to lean against the wall, only a few meager bags of grain lined his shelves, their coarse texture a pitiful representation of what his store usually held. They were a stark reminder of the slow decline that had gripped their isolated little villag ...
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