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8 p.m., Saturday.
Demon Faction, Sin City, the second floor of a certain tavern near the city gates.
Near the window, a middle-aged warrior had been mingling nearby the Sin City portal, the cities’ various famous taverns and shops. Then, as if an old cat that had picked up the scent of fish, he narrowed his single-eyelid gaze as he excitedly scanned the endless crowd at the street below from the window ledge of the higher floor, all while happily grabbing sweets ...
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