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... its fall, the wails clawed their way through the alleyways like smoke from a fire that refused to die, given instead more wood to raise more flames.
The result was the stench of empire dying beneath their fleet.
Meanwhile down by the harbor, the fleet of the Confederation gleamed beneath a rising sun to a setting Empire.
Slaves, gold, silks, and whatever else could be pried loose from the corpse of Azania was put on ships. For the men aboard them, that was enough. They ha ...
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