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An Arrow In the Dark: Chapter Three NEW

 
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Kalanna Rai
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PostPosted: Fri Jan 10, 2014 5:46 am    Post subject: An Arrow In the Dark: Chapter Three NEW Reply with quote

I was going to make this one a linear...then I realized it's so much easier to finish a story with you folks out there helping me. I promise, I'll get around to other, established projects soon...but this is something fresh for the new folks to get on right from the beginning. So here it is, the first story of what I hope to be a trilogy...help me make it happen. Enjoy!
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Chapter One
Sometimes to defeat an assassin you need a better one.
~Unknown


He never thought it would come to this last irrationality and yet here he stood with the blood seal before him and hungry shadows behind. His heart was pounding in his chest like a condemned man on the bars of his cage, futile and frantic impacts that did nothing but disperse panicked energy into their surroundings. He could feel the garrote around his neck, the poison in his veins, the arrow through his heart. If the assassin wasn't waiting in the shadows and casually planning their attack, then no doubt they soon would be and he had little time to waste. But in the haste, in the confusion, his escape had taken a horrifying wrong turn. A simple accidental left when he should have gone right...it wasn't as if he was familiar with the escape tunnels under the castle. He knew of their existence, knew enough about them to use them, it was knowledge handed down from one ruler to the next...but never fully explained and he'd never had the urge to explore.

He should have. He'd have been out in the fresh air with a swift horse under him, riding hell for leather to the mountain bastion if he had. Not here standing in front of what could only be the lock on the greatest mystery his family had. Not a best kept secret but more of a half understood myth. With nothing to lose and everything to gain, he knelt and placed his hands upon the worn stone in front of him. He winced as the rock stung against the cuts on his palms, as if the stone had been salted in preparation for this very moment, and felt the unsettling sensation of suction. As if it were actively drawing blood from his wounds like a babe drew milk from it's mother's teat. Then there was a click and an ominous grinding that resonated through the long silent tunnels...like ringing the dinner bell for his silent assailant. If the assassin had lost him for a moment then surely that black clad figure knew exactly where he was now.

The stone suddenly released him and allowed him to rise as the wall before him ground and shifted. When he turned his stinging palms upward he was more than a little worried to note that the wounds he'd carved in them with his own dagger had gone, not as if treated by a healer but as if they'd never been at all. So amazed was he by the lack of wounds, he missed the display that was going on behind him until slight movement caught his eye, the flutter of white gauze unraveling. A burial shroud around some figure, the ends tattered and waving in the subterranean breeze that kept fresh air moving through the tunnels. He almost wept. A tomb, this secret of his family, this great and long buried weapon...was a dead body. It seemed like an omen and for a moment his brain wondered if the assassin hadn't been here first and somehow tampered with the seal and whatever it held. He wouldn't put it past that menacing figure in black, that lethal shadow that had been so systematically eliminating every member of his family.

There was a noise, like a whistle, and abruptly his entire world was white. This is it. I am a dead man. This is but the veil between life and death and I am crossing through it. But when the body hit the floor it wasn't his. It took him a few moments to realize that the whiteness obscuring his vision was the burial shroud from the tomb, cast off by the corpse that had been wearing it. Fearfully he raised a hand and with trembling fingers clutched the filmy fabric, still pristine after it's long repose, scented of stone and dust and...lilac? When he managed to clear it from his eyes, he was greeted by the most astonishing sight.

The faint light from the ailing glow rune upon the ceiling cast down a cold teal tone upon the fair form before him. She was lithe of build and taut, like a willow sapling made into a snare, full of grace and violent potential. Hair the color of fresh spilled blood obscured her face which was turned away from him, facing a cluster of dark shadows away to his right. Turning his own head he could see the black gloved hand that stretched out from them and he realized, with a burst of elation, that the menace that had laid low so many of his kin now lay dead. The body that had hit the chamber floor was that of his stalker and he was finally free of the terror of the specter of death. But at what cost?

The woman's movements were silent. When he'd turned away from her she'd been standing, staring into the darkness as if she could see fully the body sprawled there. Now that he returned his gaze to her she'd moved, crouching into the sepulcher that had been revealed by the breaking of the blood seal and rummaging through a chest secreted in a clever cache in the wall. The groan of leather as it was pulled taut, the whisper of it on her skin...he was embarrassed for a moment to find himself staring as she clothed herself, snapping buckles into place with ruthless efficiency. She brusquely checked her weapons, the daggers seeming to vanish as she secreted them seamlessly into the armor that now covered her person. Two bandoliers looped around her hips and torso, filled with vials and small bottles of liquids of every hue, a quiver situated on her back. Last, but not least, he watched as she bent a bow of wicked looking black wood, seemingly without effort, a glowing string holding it in place. She pulled it taut though she knocked no arrow, posture more perfect than any he'd seen. Archery was a forgotten art though, only for sport and show these days...the gun was far superior.

She turned now, her things picked up and her weapons ready, and she walked toward the body with a careless grace he'd never seen before expressed in human form. It reminded him of nothing so much as one of the lethal hybir-tigers, those massive cats of the high mountains and the lethal ease with which they moved. Kneeling at the edge of the out-stretched hand, she reached into the deeper darkness and retrieved a small dagger, no longer than his middle finger and not quite as large as two fingers together. She flicked the blood from it before spinning it through her fingers. Despite carefully following it with his eyes he still missed when it disappeared or where she made it vanish to. Then she turned toward him.

He was vexed by the face he could not see her face. It was obscured by a half mask, an angular thing that must have been made just for her. It seated itself midway along the bridge of her nose, sweeping carefully under her eyes, encasing the whole of her lower face and jaw in it's protective leather and metal embrace. Seamlessly it met with the rest of her strange armor, for that could only be what it was, a mass of straps and snaps and buckles. Leather and light metal plates, all dull and all a mottling of dark colors, striking but subtle. Only that hair of fresh crimson hue and eyes of glittering emerald could be seen. Pale skin on her face and the halves of her fingers her gloves left exposed.

For a long time they were silent like that, just staring as each took the measure of the other. Then swiftly she crossed the silent chamber to him, hands reaching out to grasp his with the speed of a striking viper, nails sharper than any woman's had a right to be digging in to his still tender palms.

"The blood of kings...still fresh after all this time. Tainted by ignorance though. When I swore my oath to your ancestor I never imagined that this would be the future I was consigning myself to. I doubt that he did either. So tell me, oh wise and powerful king, what is your command? Are you going to command me to return to my tomb? I will...even though I can smell that you you lack the power to seal it up again. No mage has walked these halls in a hundred years...you rely on other things now. Science and the logic of men. Tell me, does that really ward off all the things that go bump in the night?" Her dulcet croon was lulling and gorgeous, like a fine brandy slowly savored in front of the fire. Her hands swiftly released his and she glanced to the shadows where the corpse laid splayed, giving a warm and mocking laugh. "Obviously not. I knew the moment he stepped foot inside these halls. I knew the moment he first killed. And every moment their after. I listened to you in your panic and your arrogance...you're lucky I was awake. Had I been deeper in my slumber I might have been slower to react. This one was trained in the old ways...the good ways. In happier circumstances I might have liked to observe him more. Unfortunately nothing comes between my oath and I. Not professional courtesy. Not general pleasantries. Not even kings."

Finally his jaw came unfrozen, his voice creeping out from between suddenly parched lips that no amount of licking would moisten...his whole mouth gone dry as a bone. "Who are you?"

She was probably smiling under that mask and it was probably a cold smile. The kind one gave in those least charitable moments when one was dealing with fools and dullards. Cold enough to freeze water and sharp enough to cut glass. "I have many names, your Majesty, and many titles to go with it. However, I am most partial to the name your ancestor knew me by, Rosette." She inclined her head and the heavy tresses of her hair swayed freely. "Shall I renew my vows with you now or do you wish to wait until you have had a little more time to think things over? I won't go far but if it is to be a ceremony later then I am quite famished and I am simply dying for a bite to eat."
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You don't know much, in fact you know almost nothing at all. But this strange woman has just saved your life and she seems amicable, if a little insufferable. Do you wait till later, slow down, let the events of the day catch up with you and see if you can't wrap your head around everything...or do you do this ceremony now and keep this newly gained ally? Do you even need this ally? Is this even an ally at all? Too many questions and not enough answers but either way, there's a decision to be made.
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Last edited by Kalanna Rai on Sun Oct 05, 2014 12:18 am; edited 10 times in total
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PostPosted: Sat Jan 25, 2014 11:26 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hehe trust Rai to come up with an promising new SG out of nowhere.

Who is she? I see him cunning enough to keep her by his side as his "ally", but he never lets his guard down, and in fact will take the time to gather as much information about her as he can...in particularly, what her weaknesses are. Just in case.


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PostPosted: Wed Jan 29, 2014 7:48 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quote:
You don't know much, in fact you know almost nothing at all. But this strange woman has just saved your life and she seems amicable, if a little insufferable. Do you wait till later, slow down, let the events of the day catch up with you and see if you can't wrap your head around everything...or do you do this ceremony now and keep this newly gained ally? Do you even need this ally? Is this even an ally at all? Too many questions and not enough answers but either way, there's a decision to be made


True you can't trust someone who is introduced into a story so early, she does seem to be very protective, but why would she save you, is there a need for the main character in the future. I think she is a very strong person. I think the MC should get to know her then see what the ceremony has to do. At the moment she is the only ally you have. You can treat her like one, but keep neutral feelings, nothing more.
I would like to add, can you add a bit more information on the area the MC and Partner started at. I sometimes get lost with books, trying to find meaning, and your vocabulary is unique. I hope in the next chapter the world unravels into a nice flowing motion. So far I understood that there is a dead enemy, a lady (Rosette aka many other names) who saved you, and yet a lot of doubting of what would happen.


Quote:
in particularly, what her weaknesses are


Yes you need to know what her weaknesses are, but not at the cost of anything high priced. Maybe MC might learn to know her past, maybe that will soften her up, but as I know she might be so strong willed that she would not open up so easily


Quote:
When I swore my oath to your ancestor I never imagined that this would be the future I was consigning myself to. I doubt that he did either


This would mean she is ages and ages old, maybe she cant be in the sun that is why she hides her face, maybe she is ages old and her family long gone, and her relationships end up with only being around for short whiles. She sounds like a gaurdain of the crane,tiger,snake... something tells me she might have one honest truth if she knows he has blood of royalty. So I wonder what happens if she breaks that oath... having to lose her immortality (not vamp like, but guardian like)
There is lots of potential for this, many roads, and many plots.
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PostPosted: Tue Feb 18, 2014 8:09 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hello Kalanna...do you remember The Traveller?

Exciting and intriguing start to the SG. You have some great descriptions and a fair amount of interesting metaphors/similes. I particularly liked this one...

"She was lithe of build and taut, like a willow sapling made into a snare, full of grace and violent potential."

Great imagery there!

"He was vexed by the face he could not see her face."

Typo? Was he vexed by the FACT he could not see her face? No biggie, just making sure I understood the sentence.

Great start and I was happy to see you were still around and a fresh SG that I could jump into without having to read too many chapters to catch up.

I think I should go for the ceremony now. It seems like I have a few enemies that did not want me to find what was in this secret room and an ally...especially one that is so obviously a lethal killing machine...would be very beneficial. I would think the ceremony would bind her to me and ensure I can control her actions. Might ake for some interesting character dynamics if my orders vary greatly from those she is used to.

Looking forward to the next chappy!
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PostPosted: Thu Feb 20, 2014 6:00 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

What ho! Another Rai story appears! And its shaping up to be a really great one.

I say perform the ceremony. Having a powerful protector at your beck and call is not a bad thing (and from her talk she could have killed the assassin upon his first appearance, but obviously didn't feel obliged to, so binding her would definitely have some life saving perks - besides his own). There will be time to learn about her, and the secrets of his ancestors, later.

I eagerly await more. Keep it up Rai! Smile
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PostPosted: Mon Feb 24, 2014 2:25 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Polling at last! Apologies for the long absence all but it is good to see so many of you and Traveller I had to go spelunking in the back corners of my brain to remember the last time I spotted you, welcome back!

However, the poll is up and, with any luck, you won't have to wait till April to read chapter two which I can garuntee will flesh out a few things like A) The world these characters live in. B) Who this person is. C) What the heck is going on here. (and my personal favorite) D) What's next!

Happy voting everyone!

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PostPosted: Mon Feb 24, 2014 2:54 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Voted!

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PostPosted: Wed Feb 26, 2014 2:19 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Voted, there is a three way tie. Razz Can't wait to read more.
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 5:23 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Giving this one more day to see if a tie-breaker pops up. If not I'll have to break it myself.
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PostPosted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 3:18 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Well, I can't wait for the next chapter. I'd like to see which direction it is going even if there is no tie breaker.
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PostPosted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 9:16 am    Post subject: Following Reply with quote

Nice visuals, Rai. Your metaphors are fresh and powerful. I think we got a little carried away with describing our new character though. I would have liked to know more about where we're going with the story instead. While I'm being critical, you nock an arrow on a string, not knock one.

I'm interested in this crossing over of old and not-so-old. The MC wished he had made it to his horse instead of the blood seal, but he still thought a bow was old-fashioned, so perhaps we're in the 18th century. For the poll, if I could still vote (but it's closed), I would probably choose for a big ceremony. I was leaning toward a quick renewal of vows before, figuring we should get to business about who was trying to kill the MC. However, this is an excellent opportunity to reinforce the image to the public of the rightful sovereignty and power of the MC. If he has an assassin coming after him, it couldn't hurt to inspire the people a bit.

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PostPosted: Fri Jul 18, 2014 9:15 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thank you for your feedback Lebby and for the technical niggle, you know how bad I am at the technical stuff!

I'll count your suggested vote as the long needed tie-breaker now that I have time to return to IF and get some things rolling again!

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PostPosted: Sat Jul 19, 2014 10:35 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I still keeping to my answer that the stranger might protect you, but she might just turn on you when she gets what she needs. Don't do a crossover, something unique and original with a bit of personality and heart shoved into it. I'll have to say visualising an area brings more ideas and mystery into it. If I could ask, do you visualise -- Poetry, story books or art-- that inspires such large vocabulary. Cheers for now--- *waiting*
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PostPosted: Sat Jul 19, 2014 11:09 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Kisses wrote:
I still keeping to my answer that the stranger might protect you, but she might just turn on you when she gets what she needs. Don't do a crossover, something unique and original with a bit of personality and heart shoved into it. I'll have to say visualising an area brings more ideas and mystery into it. If I could ask, do you visualise -- Poetry, story books or art-- that inspires such large vocabulary. Cheers for now--- *waiting*


I do indeed visualize Kisses, to the point where I've actually had to heavily edit my posts due to the fact my word count exceeded that allowed by IF. I can promise you when I get this next chapter posted the world will expand a little bit. You'll learn more about your MC and finally start getting descriptions of the world itself. As for how the world is put together, all that will be revealed in good time, mostly through the learning experiences of the assassin.

I'm not sure what you meant by crossover though.

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PostPosted: Sun Jul 20, 2014 12:04 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter Two

And so was the crown fashioned like a wreath of roses that no man might wear it easy.
~Histories Of the Empire Vol I



Though the summer day was clear and bright and the light sparkled on the glass panes of the open window, the breeze that blew in was oddly chill. It brought with it the sounds of the city below, the hum of life as the shod hooves of horses struck the cobbled streets and the gears of industry turned. The smell of industry too was carried on the air, coal and oil nearly obscuring the fresh salt tang of the ocean harbor. He gazed down upon it with a sigh, his eyes sliding over the manned castle walls to the rooftops of the noble mansions, all the way down to the far off factory roofs with their sooty brick.

Those people down there, made the size of matchstick toys by his far off vantage, lived and died by his decisions. Oh they had a freedom of a sort. He didn't control their lives individually. But he could choose to take a higher tithe of foodstuffs from the farmers, shunting it to royal storehouses, and drive up the price. The poor would begin to starve and the grocers would line their pockets with coin as thumbs were laid upon scales and a few coppers added to every price. He could increase the taxes, wringing them for coin to fill his coffers, to pay the expenses of the kingdom. A delicate balance was that for the kingdom was in need of coin. The situation was not dire but his predecessor had not been a thrifty man and much had been spent in frivolous pursuits. He'd also been a proud and temperamental man, meaning even more was being poured into the military.

Then there were the funds for the Conclave and the Council. Those two wise and powerful governing bodies that 'helped' the Crown properly rule it's people. In his short three months as king he'd learned that their idea of 'help' was to make decisions without him and then spend the better part of a week trying to patiently explain to him why their decision was best. Usually in the same patronizing voice he used for untrained puppies. He understood the need for having Advisers and Divines knew that he desperately needed some help with running a nation...but the Council an the Conclave were not help. If anything they were the opposite and their advice was often self-serving and otherwise unsound. If anything he'd gotten better advice from the assassin.

She was the source of his particular headache today. He could still feel the cold, damp air of that crypt and he swore he was still coughing the dust from the old stones out of his lungs, the grit permanently imprinted on his tongue. In hindsight he hadn't been making very wise decisions that day. There were many things he could blame, the chill fear of death in his veins, the shock at the entire situation, or maybe just being addled by exposure to magic. But whatever the reason he'd unleashed a force he didn't fully understand. Not yet. Perhaps the best decision he'd made had been to wait for whatever ritual or ceremony she needed from him. Instead, unwilling to lose a potentially powerful ally, he'd retained her services the old fashioned way. With coin and promise. She seemed to have found it amusing.

His view of the city ruined by his dark line of thought, he turned away from the window and back into what was now his study. It had been used by countless kings through the ages and bore a dignified aura of comfort. It was perhaps the homiest room in the entire palace and certainly one of the more humble. The broad desk made of geldenwood had seen countless ages, corners worn to smooth curves by the motion of countless hands running along them. The deep brown of the wood was contrasted by the flakes of gold shot through it, the polish on it still smooth and bright enough to cast back a reflection. Currently the only reflection to be seen was the worried face of one Elgerd Ryllian, King of the Empire of Nyulia. Him.

He absently rubbed at the scars on his brow, wincing as he found a new and tender cut in the hairline of his temple. That damned crown was forever digging in, piercing his flesh with greedy copper thorns while ruby roses gleamed brightly from amid their golden leaves. When he'd first seen it he'd thought the craftsmanship remarkable. The way the gems gleamed and magic gave them the look and scent of roses in full bloom. Magic also drew the blood from the thorn pricks into the crown. Otherwise he would have been one more bloody faced king, scowling in pain from his royal portrait. He hadn't sat for it yet, he found it presumptuous. He'd been king only three months and he'd almost not even made that. There was a recent enough portrait of him done when he'd simply been Lord of the Summer Marches, they could use that if need be.

He shook his head, running the blunt fingers of his right hand through his close cropped dark curls, easing his body into the padded chair behind the desk with a sigh. There was a stack of important documents painted on thick rag paper waiting for him to read as well as a scroll case. No doubt it contained the information he'd asked the Master Librarian for. It had been nearly two hundred years since this ceremony had been preformed last. Since the King's Assassin had renewed her oath.

Her name had been the key to his discovery. The Master Librarian hadn't been happy with his request for the old records, especially when Elgerd hadn't been able to give him more than a description and a name. It had taken a week for any information to return. But when it had it had been the source of many of Elgerd's sleepless nights since. The King's Assassin was one of three entities that were as much a part of the Empire's mythos as they were it's history. Three quasi-real figures of legend that had supposedly guided and shaped the Empire from it's very origins. Originally companions of the First King they'd somehow become...more. If Rosette really was who she said she was, and Elgerd had less and less reason to doubt it each time he dealt with her, then she was older than the castle he lived in. Older than the town he'd spent the morning gazing upon. Older than the Empire itself.

With a sigh he opened the scroll case, handling the aged parchment inside with tender care. Though his broad fingers were more suited to holding the haft of an axe than the shaft of a quill, a surprising tenderness could be coaxed from them when he so chose. As a child his mother had often called him 'Little Bear', a nickname that had stuck with him until his early manhood when the people around him had mercifully dropped 'Little' for 'The'. The Bear of the Summer Marches fished around in the top desk drawer and pulled out a discreet pair of spectacles, perching them over the bridge of his nose. He was just passing thirty and already his eyesight was going and there was grey in his hair. Most of it was recent, it had come with the crown.

The Council and the Conclave had been in an uproar when he'd visited them the day after the assassin's attack. He'd hauled the body out of the crypts himself, dumping it at the feet of a startled Captain of the Watch shortly before he'd had the man removed of his place. He'd then sent his demands to the Master Librarian and had returned to his study, composing a carefully thought out list of pros and cons amid the comforts of a warm fire and a bottle of aged whiskey. The next day he'd sat in that drafty chamber with the Council on one side of him and the Conclave on the other and he'd told them what was going to happen. To prove that the assassination attempt on his life had neither shaken nor dissuaded him from his throne, to give the people something to believe in, he was going to reinstate the old ceremony. He was going to appoint the King's Assassin.

There'd been blustering, shouting, cajoling and debate. Old men had gotten very red in the face and tempers had flared. It had been quite entertaining for him to watch in all honesty. Especially when they realized he wasn't asking their permission, he was telling them what was going to happen so that they could plan their appearances accordingly. He'd given them until the ceremony preparations were ready to get themselves in order. Which had turned out to be three weeks. Now here he sat on the Ceremony eve, the scroll in had as he made sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

Something made him look up. The interruption of the breeze. The pop of of the logs in the fire. He couldn't say exactly what it was but he was no longer alone in the room. Rosette lounged in one of the spare chairs opposite him, watching him with those green eyes. She'd changed since her release. She'd 'caught up' with the passage of time. Her choice of attire was shocking but he couldn't honestly have expected less by this point. She'd shirked a modest dress or even a harlot's skirt. Instead she attired herself like a workman's boy in a loose shirt, heavy boots, and a tight fitting set of leather breeches and a leather vest. She'd currently helped herself to a glass of one of his finer wines, the ruby liquid shimmering in the cut crystal glass.

"Fussing over old papers in the dark while a perfectly good patch of sunlight is only a few feet away...it's no wonder your eyes are going bad."

He scowled at her, removing the spectacles swiftly and rolling back up the old parchment with a briskness that did it's longevity no favors. "I didn't expect you to be putting in an appearance until tomorrow's ceremony. I've made sure that everything is ready for it."

She smiled, her gaze moving to the wine in her glass, contemplating it as though it held the answer to some great riddle. "Oh yes I'm sure. I've noticed that you're quite good with details. An excellent quality for a King. However, even the finest puzzlemaster can't play properly if he's not given all the pieces." She reached inside her vest and drew forth a sheaf of papers, tossing the bundle to him idly. It hit his desk and slid an inch or two toward him, laying there looking harmless.

His scowl deepened as he recognized the wax seals on the envelopes, picking up the bundle as if it were a snake that might bite. "What's this?"

"Correspondence between certain members of the Council, the Conclave, and your cousin Lutece. You know...the one that should have inherited the crown."

He didn't flinch at the backhanded way she spoke. He wasn't certain if it was meant as the insult that it had the potential to be or if she was just stating the facts. Everything about her had that cold and mocking edge to it. Then again he supposed he himself might end up that way if he'd spent as long staring into the blackest part of humanity as she had. "Why bring this to me now? Why not wait until tomorrow after the Ceremony?"

She sighed, looking up from her wine, running a fingertip along the edge of the glass. "You retained my services in coin, did you not? Clever of you by the way. You didn't say outright that you didn't trust me but without the protection the renewal of the Oath will give you it was wise not to. Still, I don't like debts and taking your coin for no purpose would have been a debt I could never correct once the Ceremony has passed. So take those." She put the glass to her lips, draining the contents in one long pull before looking back at him.

He undid the string, pulling the bundle apart, picking up the first letter in the pile. A letter from High Councillor Maestral to his cousin Lutece Delange. It began simply enough, like many letters the Councillor sent him had, with mouthy platitudes that looked lovely and meant nothing. Then it moved into plain speech, a brusque tone overtaking the words. His hand began to shake as he read, fingers clenching and distorting the paper. Eventually it gave way, tearing under his grip before he'd even come to the end of it. His eyes snapped up to her, hard as flint and cold as the winter night. "They did not."

She laughed, her smile almost genuine. "Oh but they did my liege. They knew how much of a threat the assassin was. You were so conveniently placed for their plans, the perfect bait. The unsuitable cousin, a simple country lord who was familiar enough with the Capitol to make it plausible. Honestly, had your mother been less of a friend to the Dowager Queen, had you spent less of your youth here amid the Princes, it might have been different. But you didn't. You were the perfect sacrifice. Certainly the fact they skipped Lutece for you raised some grumbling amid the Lords but your claim is legitimate. Actually it's more legitimate than that of Lutece. I've tasted his blood, the line of kings is dead in it."

It spoke volumes to his anger that he spent several minutes in furious silence before her words registered in his conscious mind. "What do you mean 'tasted his blood'?"

"I confess, there are so many new...gadgets in the world these days. I didn't recognize the alarm for what it was and he roused in his slumber as I took his letters and attempted to restrain me. I took offense to that. He's fine...mostly. A few cuts and a few bruises. Thankfully your disuse of magic makes you wonderfully susceptible to it. He doesn't remember a thing. I'm no King's Mage...but he did teach me a few tricks over the years." She smiled smugly, satisfied with herself. "However, my fight with your cousin and other idle chatter shouldn't be your current concern. The fact that a good portion of your government is poised to betray you at the earliest convenience is. I would suggest that you plan accordingly. Tomorrow's little display will be nice...but a little theatrics isn't going to do more than stall them."

He looked at the mangled paper for a moment before tossing it disgustedly into the fire with a heavy sigh. "If I were them I'd strike tonight, before any of my 'theatrics' take place. You'll watch me tonight will you not? Or do you need more coin for that?"

Her green eyes glittered hungrily and she poured herself another glass of wine. "Oh no Lord Elgerd. It would be my pleasure."

He turned back to the window, looking at the glittering sun, and shivered again. The breeze was most definitely unseasonably cold. Or perhaps that was just the foreboding of what the hours of darkness might bring that had chills chasing each other up and down his spine.
---------------------------------------------

So lovely readers, what next? Is there an attempt made on his life before the ceremony? How might it be made if there is? Who might be making it? More shadowy assassins or someone different? The choice is yours!
-------------------------
I hope you enjoyed this installment. Thank you all for being patient!
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PostPosted: Sun Jul 20, 2014 12:29 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

The begin is a great introduction to a new chapter. So there is 200 years since the last ritual, I love how this char thinks and the fights in verbal form. I have to say sometimes it sounds asif he is (MC) a qauters peasant the way he thinks. ?? The scars on his brow is a good desciption to notice who he is, The MC's helper seems to care of the people who wants to kill him, I guess your trust is in her and her ever lasting smile through all that war. So far the chars you have: Lord Elgard MC, Lutece cousin and the lady's name he wishes to know.

I should say: ritual before war, might just be a more advantage unless the others attack during the ritual and war-- that is their advantage.

I have to say that Crossover is between and existing couple of films: a spoof is a crossover in joke form. a crossover is of two or more stories, as unique as your story are , which is not needed for your story.
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PostPosted: Wed Jul 23, 2014 9:07 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ah, so you were talking about the type of crossover that I was thinking about.

No, I don't do fan work. Much as I've been tempted to do an Story Game style Skyrim playthrough, I like writing my own work. While the elements you find here can be found in other stories elsewhere, this world is wholly mine. From the MS Paint world map I built for it to the individuals and corporations driving the industrial age upon an otherwise magical world.

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PostPosted: Sat Jul 26, 2014 11:09 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I should say your quite the character, creating a world through MSpaint... must be hard using that program, I should say easier using easy 3D map creators or house sculpting like Scetch-up.... whichever rocks your boat of infinite ideas.
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PostPosted: Tue Aug 05, 2014 5:51 pm    Post subject: Another assassin Reply with quote

You have a map for this story? Can we see it? That would be interesting. I love a well fleshed-out world, and this one is looking good already. We've got an interesting age, political tension, and family rivalry. A shame he burned the letter. If it had any condemning content, it could be used to openly punish the conspirators. We may need our assassin to do the job later. What did that letter say anyway?

For the DP, I suggest another assassination attempt, but from a very elusive assassin with modern tricks. The assassin won't show his/her face, forcing Rosette into a game of cat-and-mouse as they learn each other's secrets.

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PostPosted: Mon Aug 25, 2014 4:19 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Map

I'd been working on a non-ms paint version and finished it up to post with this request. It's just a map of the country we're currently dealing with and I've left the names off currently, but you're free to ask any question's you'd like to about anything that piques you're interest.

If there are no more suggestions for the DP, I'll put a poll up in the next day or so.

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PostPosted: Mon Aug 25, 2014 5:31 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Groovy! Nice map. So I guess I have the standard geographical questions. How many countries are we looking at? How long would it take to travel from that big mountain city to the castle? Where is the protagonist on this map?

I'm sure I'll have a lot more questions, but I'll wait to see what we actually need.

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PostPosted: Fri Aug 29, 2014 12:14 pm    Post subject: I Think. . . Reply with quote

Wow, this is interesting. I have to admit, I can pick out a handful of elements that seems to be from some of my favorite shows/movies. Like, she herself seems a mix of Tarna(Heavy Metal), Alucard(Hellsing), and a character of my own called Arian. She acts and originally kinda dresses like Tarna, devoted to a cause/family like Tarna and Alucard, Sealed until needed Like Alucard, and from the history you gave, will be a part of helping the king rule, and is from ancient times like Arian. It's very interesting, the blend in my mind of these elements, even though I am sure it was nowhere in your mind as you wrote this.

But, anyways, all that aside, I find this very interesting. Her outward personality intrigues me, while the interactions between the two come across in a way I have not seen in a while.

For the DP, I agree, an assault in the night, perhaps ending with a nice torture session for information. *Feels evil* Yeah, that's my idea Razz I can't wait to read more!
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PostPosted: Sun Aug 31, 2014 1:39 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Glad you like it Lebs, it's just my rough map but I can answer your questions.

1: You're looking at one country but two continents. There is a very small sliver of boarder to the extreme north and just off the map to the extreme south. The straight at the southernmost part of the map, where the large island is, is a lot like the straights of Gibraltar. A narrow but oft traveled trade route but our 'Empire' owns the nearest portion of it's southern coastline.

2: It would depend on method of travel and if you were a local. If you're not a local (or friends with them), getting through that maze of mountain passes and narrow valleys can be a life's task. If you're on foot it's a journey that can take upwards of two and a half months, three months with a slow wagon, or just a month on horseback. Think travelling from California to South Carolina roughly.

3: Our protagonist is currently in the Capital city which is the large castle on the map.

I'd offer you more than that but it's slow going translating the MS Paint map (which has a few too many spoilers to post) into a geographical form that is easily shared. Don't let that stop your questions though, it keeps me sharp and makes me think about things I otherwise wouldn't have.

Also Pope, nobody has made me think about Heavy Metal in a long long time. I can tell you that Rosette's armor is a lot more protective than Tarna's bondage gear is though. It's actual armor, it's just made out of interlocking leather and metal sections belted and strapped together for maximum flexibility and knife storage. If I can find something on the internet to use as a reference for it I'll post a link up.

As for blended elements, Alucard is a good analogy although the terms of the deal between Rosette and the ruling family are slightly different. Alucard is more a bonded servant while Rosette hangs around out of a strange sense of nostalgic honor. That and she has some very very good reasons for wanting to keep her Oath intact...but more on that later.

Also, poll going up now, have at thee!

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PostPosted: Thu Sep 04, 2014 2:55 pm    Post subject: Voted! Reply with quote

Yays! I voted! And made a tie! Heheh. I know her armor is different, it was mostly the dressing scene I was thinking of rather than the armor itself Razz Well, and the fact that both were leather Razz Can't wait to see what happens!
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PostPosted: Thu Sep 04, 2014 8:59 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

And here I was about to come write. I'll leave this open another day in hopes of a tie breaker.
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PostPosted: Fri Sep 05, 2014 3:22 pm    Post subject: Sorry Reply with quote

I'm sorry!!!!! *Bows repeatedly*
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PostPosted: Sun Oct 05, 2014 12:18 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Biting the bullet and breaking the tie. Enjoy guys.

Chapter Three

If you cannot see your workers suffer you might as well be blind.
~Note found pinned to the eyeless corps of shipping magnate Haurv Blemm


It was dim and dingy in the cell, the water dripping down the aged brick, unable to stain it further than it already was. It collected in small channels that had been dug into the floor and was cleverly channeled out, a testament to the ingenuity of the inventor who sat at the cluttered table against the back wall. His latest creation was scattered in pieces across the top of the scarred oak, only a few screws from assembly and final completion. He should have been done with that an hour ago...but he had a distraction, an annoyance really.

"Why not?" Said annoyance was a noble, a handful of years younger than the inventor himself, ruthlessly ambitious and now growing desperate. Which meant he'd come and invaded the inventor's little corner of the world and that simply would not do. "Why not!" A repetition of the question, more forceful this time. The inventor at the table gave no visible outward reaction to the nobles words but inwardly he seethed at the petulant whine in the tone, as if the noble were not the grown man he was but instead the young boy he'd been.

Actually that was a rather apt description of the noble, wanting desperately to convince the world of his wisdom and maturity, his wealth and status, all the while hiding the fact that he'd never truly grown up at all on the inside. A futile masquerade. No doubt the noble had stuck out a quivering lip to go with his childish tone, only a few heartbeats away from stamping his feet on the floor and shaking his fists in the air, throwing a royal tantrum. Or well, would be royal. That was the crux of the issue at hand after all.

But the inventor was nothing if not polite, if he was not patient...the latter especially was key in his line of work. He was an inventor first and foremost, all other things were secondary. All he had to do was wait and the tantrum too would pass with his visitor no doubt following suit shortly after. The sooner that came to pass the sooner he could get back to his work, finishing this project. "Because I won't participate in regicide." An honest answer. He had no reason to kill a king, any king, especially the king of his own nation. He wasn't overly patriotic, he had no reason to be. But the king had committed no crime other than being born to the wrong woman and the wrong man. He was, by all accounts, a simple man. A battlefield commander and country lord. No...the inventor had no quarrel with him.

"But...every other time I've come to you, you've helped me. Why should this time be any different? Is it the coin? I can pay you more-"

The inventor sat up straight in his chair and the noble's whine abruptly silenced to be replaced by his heavy, nervous breaths. He took a deep breath of his own, counseling himself for more patience with the man-child. "Allow me to explain. Those previous joint ventures of ours, I did them because the necessity was mutual. I did them because examples needed to be made. Whether it aided or hindered you was no concern of mine, taking your gold for things I was already doing was simply a boon. A contribution to my work. This though...this task is not an undertaking I'd planned or considered." In their previous ventures the noble had given the inventor plenty of time to assess and plan. But here he was, with only a double handful of hours between this moment and the moment the deed needed done, expecting a miracle. The inventor was a man of science not of the fantasies of magic. He would encourage no delusions.

"How can I make you change your mind? What can I say to convince you of how important this is. You're not understanding that if the king remains alive...then I'm ruined." The whine suddenly grew flat and hard, anger taking over at last, the inevitable tantrum coming. Only it didn't. What came from the noble's lips next was a cold, dead voice. Nasty and vicious. "If I'm ruined then everyone's going to suffer."

"Don't threaten me when you've no leverage." The inventor didn't like the path the nobles mind had decided to go down, not one bit. It was the narrow slope of a man who didn't care who he hurt. Par for the course actually, all history considered.

The noble gave a dark and mirthless laugh. "No leverage? What about Cistina? Poor, sweet Cistina. If the Guard doesn't get her then I'm sure my foreign backers will. Can you justify that to yourself, sitting by and letting that happen?"

Ah, the weak spot. Well worn and well used. The inventor knew that he should ignore the noble...but he couldn't. It was logical, if improbable, what the noble was saying. The lass would indeed come to harm should this perilous house of cards come tumbling down. While the inventor could be away within the hour, for Cistina there was no escape. Still, one woman, no matter how beloved, did not the murder of a king justify. "I suppose I should begin planning her rescue and our flight then shall I? Do you think they'll take her to the Old Bailey or the dungeon? Perhaps they'll lock her in a tower? I could always work out the last adjustments on my aero-sail..."

"You're infuriating, do you know that? You stubborn, obstinate, ingrate! You think that you've got it planned out, that you're smart. Well what will you do when this king brings back the age of magic?! Did you not hear about the ritual ceremony he has planned for tomorrow? Or have you been holed up down here with your oil can and your brass bits for too long to listen to the news boy? What are you going to do when there's no need for your precious machinery? Oh you'll have won the labor war then...because there won't be a need for labor. We'll all be peasants and slaves again!" The noble slammed his hand against the iron door that sealed the cell and the whole reverberated with an ominous tone, as if emphasizing his words.

No, the inventor hadn't known about that little detail. He'd been cooped up down here for the better part of two weeks getting this latest invention working. He had the blisters and singed hair to prove it. Carefully he pulled the leather gloves off his hands, dexterous fingers flexing free of the thick material. Amid the scars earned from slipped screw drivers, gnashing cog teeth, welding sparks, and just plain bad luck...there were others. Dancing along his skin like daubs of living moonlight, sparkling like cast off gems. Scars that ran deeper than flesh, deeper than bone, down to his very soul. Scars that had set his feet on this path. Without that accident, a simple inventor he'd still be instead of what he'd become.

No, the age of magic was over, rasping out a vicious death rattle. Whatever might once have been useful about it, what truth there might have been in those ludicrously outlandish tales of great workings, that had been the first to die. Some relics remained, wonders that even he could appreciate, but they were far from the normal. No the normal was that the magic that remained for the every-man to possess was a death sentence to any who handled it. More volatile than mis-packaged nitro, more toxic than poison gas, more powerful than steam or even electro-power. It was a gleaming folly for the business barons, some of whom saw only profit in the merger of magic and machinery. The inventor knew better. He was one of a lucky few, survivors of the horror that had been the last great fusion attempt. He couldn't let others go through it, couldn't let others live in his private hell. It was only big enough for him.

He leaned back over his desk, picking up his screwdriver and beginning the assembly process. After a few moments of listening to the noble's labored breathing, he raised his head slightly. "Are you still here? You're interrupting my planning time. I expect double the coin for this."

"I knew you'd see reason. I'll return with-"

"And if you ever threaten Cistina again I will gut you like a pig on market day and let you watch me feed your entrails to your decorative pond fish until the light goes out of your eyes."

There was no more talk after that.
-------------------------------------

Rosette sucked in a deep breath and promptly wished she hadn't. The night air was not what it used to be. The taint of progress stained it with a chemical tang that burned her lungs. She'd almost have preferred magical pollution to this new kind. After all, at leas magical pollution was amusing...and mostly harmless. Unless you got caught in a rain that disintegrated living things. But again, mostly was the key word. She shook her head, ruby locks swaying, focusing her mind to the task on hand. She was mildly surprised that no assassins had come yet, the night was nearly over and with it's end would come an end to her vigil and the beginning of her preparations.

And something else...

One of her sixth senses was going off, a little bit of precognitive information that, as usual, made no sense. Once upon a time, when she'd been on better terms with her personal powers-that-be, she would have gotten something far more useful than the image that floated lazily in the back of her mind. Blood on a metal mask, brass if she had to venture a guess, and a pair of luminously gleaming eyes behind the glass in the eye sockets. Abnormal eyes. Eyes stained with a kind of magic she'd never seen before but that reeked of corruption. But that didn't answer any of the questions that sat in her brain.

She doubted the mask wearer was magical or that the corruption was his fault. In her time eyes like that had been caused by one thing and one thing only. Backlash. At one time or another that poor soul had been near enough a major working gone wrong to absorb one hell of a discharge. That made Rosette more curious than a cat in a room full of bird cages. Magic was virtually dead. She could feel that for herself. She was no archmage, no great wonder worker, but she had talent and she had power and she used it well enough to get by with a little help from her 'friends'. So for a working that large to have even come into being...something big had gone down. Perhaps that was the key then, to deciphering this riddle. Find the working, find the eyes, find the wearer of the mask.

But who were they and why were they so damn important?

The kiss of the dawn interrupted her train of thoughts and she stood and stretched, the leather of her armor creaking as she did so. Her vigil was over, her contract was up, and now she had until the strike of noon to do whatever she pleased. After all, she wasn't needed at the ceremony until the start of the ceremony. As much as she would have loved to dawdle around the king, she wasn't that attached to him yet. Neither by oath nor by gleam of gold. These might well be her last few free hours before she once again started the cycle of faithful oath-bound guardian. If only she'd known when she swore those six oaths how bored she'd become twenty-seven generations later. How stagnant life could be.

But what would she do? This was hardly her country any more. Her old haunts had vanished between now an then, old friends were now headstones that gathered grave moss. Her few forays into this burgeoning new city of wonders hadn't exactly convinced her that she knew what she was doing yet either. Steam pumps, zeppelins, aero-freight, pollution, grime, whistles and gears and grinding. It made her head hurt. Perhaps a little excursion beyond the city walls. She could make it to the surrounding farmland and back before she was needed. But that would be an awful lot of exertion just to breath a little fresh air and stare at cows and fields.

She could always go looking for the site of that working...provided it was here in the city itself of course. It could be anywhere. Truthfully she'd been all over this city in the past few weeks, getting reacquainted, and she hadn't felt more than a few nips of magic here and there...a working that large would have set off bells in her bones. Especially if it had blown up. So it was either an old accident...or far away. But those eyes were distinct, someone might know about them. The question was...how did she go about asking? Times had changed and with them had come changes to casual conversation. She was no longer the smooth operator she once had been. No matter how glib she tried to be, it was mostly inevitable that she'd send up a little red flag somewhere. And if this person was important enough to be sent a vision about...no doubt they'd be unhappy if someone were snooping. On the other other hand...maybe an exercise in information gathering in the modern era was what she needed.
-----------------------------------

So...what's Rosette's choice? Does she take these last precious few hours of freedom and just...be free? Or does she follow a mystical hunch? What degree of success might she have if she does? What encounter might she have if she doesn't? Just little questions for you to ponder.
------------------------------------
Hope you enjoyed!
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Last edited by Kalanna Rai on Sun Oct 05, 2014 10:42 am; edited 3 times in total
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PostPosted: Sun Oct 05, 2014 6:19 am    Post subject: Marvelous! Reply with quote

Honestly, Rai, I'm seldom impressed. Sometimes I think I'm just too conceited to appreciate the works of others, but this chapter was fantastic! Great visuals; more of those strong metaphors; an antagonist who is truly fascinating and impossible to dismiss as just a bad guy; a rich world.... I love the comparison of Rosette to a cat. I get this feeling of delightful foreboding when I consider how she feels so confident now that she can lounge about like a lazy cat if she wants, even though a ravenous wolf has caught her scent and is contemplating her destruction.

Though she does have an air of over-confidence, I still don't think she'll be too self-indulgent. I'm imagining her going out on the town for something like a working lunch. She makes no attempt to disguise herself now, as she doesn't have the subtlety to maintain it anyway, and she can use disguises later when she actually needs it. She gets information and gets a good feel for the city, rooting out a few places where there is still a glimmer of magic, and looking for contacts that might give her more information without actually asking for any particular information. She might knock some foolish skulls around, if trouble shows up, but only in good fun. If she drinks, she'll have a few, but not get carried away. She has to keep an eye out for the brass mask (have to remember that detail when she really goes looking for information).

In a nutshell, Rosette reacquaints herself with the city.

On the critical side, just because I would like to contribute to the quality of the chapter, there are a few typos that really need to be tidied up, like:

Quote:
"But...every other time I've come to me you've helped me

Quote:
You're not understand that if the king remains alive...then I'm ruined.


Additionally, I was a little confused near the beginning about who was talking or whose thoughts we were visiting. I worked it out all right, but I think it would help the flow of the story if you made it clear, for instance, who was saying "Why not?". Also, I would favor "the inventor" over "the man" near the beginning, because we have two men there. The comparison of the would-be royal to a boy is a confusing too, because it took a while before I figured out that you meant the man acts like a boy, not that he was literally a boy that tried to act like a man. Just to kick the dead horse one last time, when we read "But he was nothing if he was not polite..." it was right after a description of the would-be royal, so I thought we were still talking about the would-be royal..... I know "would-be royal" sounds repetitive, so maybe find another distinct way to refer to him without giving us a name. Former and latter doesn't seem to work here either.

The conversation between the would-be royal and the tormented inventor was also done masterfully, by the way. I love that we were introduced to the characters' motivations during a tense confrontation. I was eager to learn how the inventor would be won over, and surprised by all the things that weren't persuasive to him. His true motivation, then, focuses the theme of the story on the battle between magic and science. Perfect. I look forward to seeing how this plays out.

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PostPosted: Sun Oct 05, 2014 10:37 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Fixed the typos you pointed out Lebby, that's what I get for posting early in the wee hours. I also changed it to refer to the inventor as such right off the bat and the other player in the scene can be referred to as 'the noble' rather than 'would-be royal'.

I've also added a little bit, hopefully to help convey the fact that while the noble presents a very mature facade, he's a small and petty and childish soul. One that the inventor is mostly fed up with. Because that's actually rather important and may help you in discovering who his is...if we ever get to actually see court in session.

Thanks for your helpful comments sir and I appreciate them, also I'm glad you enjoyed it!

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PostPosted: Sun Oct 05, 2014 12:24 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Much clearer now, thank you.
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