PREVIEW
... eft shoulder popped every three steps. I probably looked like a failed attempt at animating a scarecrow with budget magic.
And even so, I went to town.
Because, you see, when you defeat a giant acid-spitting spider that tries to roast you alive, you earn the right to try and monetize that. I had rare minerals — some still carrying that lovely aroma of death and smoke — and an improvised pouch made from torn cloth and blind hope.
Ashveil in the morning somehow looked even ...
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