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... ath the looming sky with Fjora at the head, her colossal club resting across her shoulders. Skalr trudged alongside her, his boots squelching in the mud as the faintest frown rested on his face. Above them, the storm's intensity had waned into a steady drizzle punctuated by distant thunder. A distant reminder that the gods were watching. Or meddling, depending on one's perspective.

"Do you reckon Exile enjoys showing off, or is it just part of the job description?" Fjora mused, her voice ...

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