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... “You’re a Noir?” asked Stryg, surprised.

“I carry that honor, yes.”

“…Una, why does that sound familiar?”

She smiled sadly. “Elzri was my older brother. Though I believe you have also met our daughter,” she wrapped her arm around Atlas’ waist. “Unalla.”

The memory of the short drow rushing Stryg with a giant sword and an angry warcry on her lips flashed through his mind. His face went blank. “Pardon?”

“Unalla, our daughter. I believe you two met during the ...

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