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... s heavy wooden doors creaking as they swung open and shut, admitting a steady stream of weary travelers and boisterous locals. Thick smoke curled from the wide hearth, its flames licking at a spit of roasted roots that glistened with fat, their earthy scent mingling with the sharp tang of cheap cider poured from dented pitchers. The inn's low ceiling sagged under dark wooden beams, groaning faintly beneath the weight of raucous conversation, while boots scraped across the worn oak floors, their ...
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Volume 4B, Afterword
