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A warm fire...
Topic Started: Sat Nov 20, 2004 7:10 am (375 Views)
Zazara
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It had been a long trip from Taras and as Zazara left the plains known by many as Deban's plains, she was extremely happy to see the quaint and welcoming village of Kellen. Carefully adjusting the top of her armor, the high elf pulled the worn fur coat closer to her, pressing the cold metal and jewels close to her bare skin. As she had left Taras, there were rumors of icey winds blowing in from the north, chilling the plains on the way to Kellen and she had been advised to buy herself a thick, warm fur for the travels. Zazara rubbed her arms vigorously, hugging herself as she continued to walk toward the village, noting at how soft the fur seemed, even it's poor condition. She remembered her beautiful white fur that would be waiting for her once she reached home, what a better quality it seemed than the usual goods found in Taras, her eyes watching as the smoke billowed out of the small, warm looking buildings. If it hadn't been for the loss of her steed, she wouldn't have had to walk the entire way to Kellen, but thinking back to all the time she had alone, she was glad that the trip had been taken.

Her legs ached deep to the bone, but she kept herself at a steady pace. The dangling jewels that hung from her armor below the fur coat hit against her armor leggings, giving a rhythmic beat, making it easier for Zazara to keep her pace. The plains had all but turned in color,or so she imagined, the tan colored grass was once green and full of lift, easily bending in the winds unlike now how the stood so rigidly in the hard winds. After wondering what it would be like to visit the plains during the early spring, she had entered the village, nearly walking right into a waist high wooden fence. This faded the stern look upon her face, as her steely eyes softened a moment giving way to the soft laughter that had parted her lips. She was glad to finally be done with her journey to Kellen.

The large streets were somewhat clear. Instead of fancy stone paths that were found in Taras, was dirt. The smells of lunch filled the air. Breads and meats, but occasionally it was masked by the heavy scent of manure which only seemed to take over once the winds blew strong. She didn't see the stables that she had been told about, but she sure smelled them now as they almost upset her slight hunger. It was her meaning for the trip, to find another steed so that she might make a trip back to see her people and of course her family. But that can wait for just a little while. The warmth of a fire and a filling meal should do me well right this moment. And rest, beautiful rest for my weary legs. Yes. An inn perhaps or tavern, there is sure to be one here somewhere. The stern look had returned as her eyes squinted and searched for the source of the smells.

The cold winds picked up again, forcing the elf to shield her eyes. Standing tall along an empty path, watching as women hurried into homes carrying large baskets and small packages. The men seemed to gather at the entrance of one of the larger buildings. Six in total. Some smoked while others drank, she could only guess that this would be the place she searched for. Again she took on her pace, the gentle and rhythmic sounds of the jewels hitting her armor came back, alerting the men as she came into range. They stopped their conversations, staring in her direction as she made her way across the village. One leaned to whisper as the others just stood in silence. Their faces grim and their eyes seeming to fill with questions.

Keeping her head held high, Zazara brushed back her long blond hair, letting her arms fall to her sides even though the chilling winds blew in through the front of the coat. She thought there might be questions but she was ready to answer them, knowing that she was in the right place. As she came nearer, she could hear the lively sounds of music and the scents of food had certainly gotten stronger. Her stomach ached, even more than her legs did, which now burned from the wind as well.

"Hello little lady, what is it that we can do for ye?" One of the men from the back said, raising his mug in the air toward Zazara. Calling out to her, his voice was rough and deep, but hinting a certain kindness. His face was no longer grim as he flashed a friendly smile, dirty from what appeared to be a hard mornings work in the stables as there was still straw hanging off his clothes in all sorts of places. The others had taken up the same friendly greetings and were in the same shape as the other. Their once grim faces now all seemed to smile in her direction, though the questions still remained in their eyes.

Nodding her head in hello, she took her icey blue eyes over each until they finally rested upon the only man to speak to her. Her voice was strong and calm as she replied. "I have originally come here from Taras, I am in search of a steed. But the long travels have starved me and my legs ache. Before I further my search for the steed, I wish to sit and warm myself, as well as find myself a plate of food to eat." She forced a smile, her thin lips parting slightly as she stopped not far from the group of men. The high elf did her best to play as a friendly traveler, but it went against most of what she had learned. She was no more used to traveling alone and with such poor resources as she was to preparing her own meal or room.
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Shynthriir
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Shynthriir had been in the town of Kellen for quite some time now. He came here about a month ago and then found it far too hard to leave. The jolly people welcomed his type, for he was a drow, a lot easier than other towns in the Inythess and he couldn't help but hold a piece of the town close to his heart. And hold it there he did. He was staying at the house of a friend he had made in the town and became close enough to them that he sometimes would call them his family for they were the closest to a family that he has ever had, or will probably ever had.

This day weather was cold, though that seemed quite normal in Kellen and Shynthriir slowly adapted to it. He still wore his hooded cloak that he always seemed to wear, but he wore a few extra layers of clothes underneath that. He was quite confortable in what he was in, he learned to be such as he learned to be a lot of things in this interesting city.

He waqs going about doing some things for the tavern in the city, the place where he seemed the most excepted. He was always doing some odd jobs for them and they were having the best season ever with his help. He was glad to know he was helping and that just made him work harder.

He caught word of some conversation going on while he was grabbing some new wood for the fireplace located inside the tavern, he couldn't help but to turn and see what it was all about. There was a woman, one that he had never laid his eyes upon, for he certainly would have remembered her. She was a beauty, dressed in as fine of furs as he had seen. She was new to the town, for wood elfs came not to this town often.

Shynthriir piled up another log and then heaved them all onto his shoulder and then walked up to the conversation. I would be glad to escort you inside this tavern and buy you something, there will be a fresh fire too he said while adjusting the logs on his shoulder.
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Zazara
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The gathered men all kept quiet, though the one that had spoken did nod his head toward the high elf almost as if telling her that it was alright to go with him. Her eyes had been between the two, almost as if asking if she could trust the drow that had approached them as she was not accustomed to meeting with the drow face to face. In the past, there had always been dark stories, disturbing stories, of their violence and malevolent ways, this was the reason for her slight hesitation as she looked for the answers from the men she had already encountered. The drow man was intriguing though, with the load he carried, he was still able to have a polite conversation, showing no real strain or distress from all of the weight.

Taking one last glance toward the group of men, she bowed her head in thanks and slipped quietly between them and the drow to the door just behind them all. Her quick actions were mostly caused by the arctic winds which had chilled her deeply, making Zazara eager to find the warmth of the fire that the drow had told her about. Looking back to the man with the load of firewood, she realized that it would be best to keep herself close to him, as he would lead her to the fire within, though still she was undecided or not whether to trust him farther than that or not.

Her pale hand showed itself from the fur, her fingers gripping gently around the handle of the large wooden door. As she opened it, she was engulfed in the cheerful music, delightful smells of the cooked foods and to her liking, an unexpected warmth. It took her by such a surprise, that her eyes seemed to light with new color, the steely blue now brilliant and bright. Unexpectedly, she slowly stepped in through the door, the patrons all going on about their business. Some dancing upon the spacious floor, others conversing at one of the many wooden tables spread about the room and even others were at the bar, laughing and talking among themselves. It was a sight that upon first glance of the small building, she had not expected in the least.

Rubbing her hands over her arms again, she thoughtlessly brushed the fur, her eyes quickly going from group to group, watching them in their daily life. They looked to be undisturbed by her entrance, an act that she again was not used to having lived with her family in the royal palace. Excitedly, she turned to look at the drow who she imagined was coming in right behind her, hoping that he would quickly enter so that she could buy a hot cup of tea and sit close to the fire so that she could relax her overworked legs. Strangely, she felt thankful to have him there to show her around and to help her in this time of need. Deciding then that if he were to live among this type of people, he certainly could not be as malicious as the stories had told. Perhaps I shall gift him once he has finished escorting me, yes that would be a show of kindness I am sure.

It was then she flashed him a smile, one that had not been so forced as the one she had greeted the other men with, but a more genuine smile. As her eyes went back to the crowded tavern, the smile faded and she returned to acting as proper as she should be, holding her head high, standing tall and still as she watched the patrons go about their ways. She admired the beauty and craftsmanship of their tables and chairs, how all of the woodworking seemed to resemble that of the horse. Even the rafters and mantles along the walls depicted the fantastic beasts, it was fitting she thought, for all the talk that came about from their breeding and training of the steed. Her steely blue eyes finally sought out a bar maid, her chin lifting ever so as the maid came closer and then Zazara's slender hand rose to catch her attention, stopping the maid before she could pass.

"Greetings there, what is it that I can get you this fine day?" It was unusually contagious how the bar maid's bubbly smile and giggling response had been. Her voice a bit higher than Zazara's, but sweet and sincere in tone. Even the odd manner of how the girl had stepped closer to Zazara, touching her arm as she greeted her. The elf couldn't believe how courteous everyone had seemed to be, she herself smiling a moment as she pulled back her long blond hair and ordered herself the cup of tea she has so anxiously been waiting for.

"Tea, hot tea if does not trouble you too much. And a warm plate of food as well." The words had come out cold, almost as if they had been an order. The maid's eyes narrowed, but the smile remained as she giggled loudly at Kellen's newest guest, patting her upon the shoulder gently. It was almost as if she had found what Zazara said humorous, though the high elf couldn't figure out for herself why.

"You've got it m'lady. The tea, hot tea, will be right up. But the warm plate of food may take a while. Go on now and make yourself comfortable." The maid nodded her head, pulling at the sleeve of the fur coat in an attempt to let the elf know that it was alright to take it off now. Turning to disappear somewhere behind the long counter at the back of the tavern. At first Zazara could have sworn that the girl had been mocking her, but the sweet and hospitable way that she had ended their discussion confused the elf for more than a few seconds. Humor perhaps? The humans have always had an odd sense of it, perhaps that is all.

Her own eyes narrowed now, forgetting a moment that the drow had been hauling in fresh wood for the fire and that she in fact was so eager to sit beside it. Removing the fur coat as it reveal the smooth ivory skin beneath and the expensively decorated silver armor that had laid beneath, still in what seemed to be deep thought of the maid's comments. She stood to the side of the entrance, her light eyes on nothing in particular, waiting for the tea that she had been promised.
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Shynthriir
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Shynthriir had to adjust the pile of wood that was on his shoulders, it was only getting haevier, or it seemed like it was at least. I guess I'll be seeing you guys later, he said to the guys that were standing outside the tavern. He knew a few of them, people that he had been privilaged to call 'friend' since his stay in this pleasant town. A few others, he didn't know, but they were still just as calm around him as anyone else native to the town was, for he was a well known person among the people. Why wouldn't he? He was a drow living amonst the humans after all.

He turned and followed the girl to the door of the tavern. It would be a great relief to get inside the warmth of the tavern. Oh how much warmer the inside of the tavern will be with the addition of the load of wood on his shoudlers.

He followed the woman inside the building and foudn that she had already met Hanah, the waitress at the tavern. Hanah was a cheerfull lady and seemed to always make the most random people feel welcome at this place. Shynth could even remember once when she got a retired necromacer that came to the tavern laughing, and if Shynthriir knew anything about necromancers, they are cerainly a hard bunch to make happy, none the less laugh.

The lady took off her fur coat and then Shynthriir was truly entraced. He wasn't awestruck by the clothes beneath the fur coat that the woman was wearing. It was that she was all the more enchanting without the bulk of the coat on her. He almsot dropped all of the wood that he had on his shoulder from the sight. He caught himself though and steadied the wood once again.

If you will please excuse me for a minute, he started to say to the woman, he made a mental note to get her name the moment he came back, I really need to get this wood to the boss, he adjusted the wood once again to tell her make a better point.

He walked past her and into a back room, one that only the workers of the tavern and he could enter. He wasn't really a worker at the tavern, but he helped them out enough that they allowed him back there. They tried to pay him one day too and he simply could not accept no matter how many times they asked him. They, in turn, wouldn't let him leave without taking a different offer instead. They allowed him to have free food and drink at the tavern whenever he liked. Shynthriir couldn't refuse the offer knowing that he would have no other way of getting food without it. He worked a little harder to make sure they were truely benefiting from his work and then he took the meals with a genuine smile upon his face.

I noticed the fire was running low, you might need some wood, Shynthriir said as he entered the room where the boss of the tavern usually was. He was there now, sitting in the chair behind his desk. His name was Garth. He was a happy man, one of the reasons the tavern was always kept so jolly. He wasn't a strong man, but what he lacked in strength, he made up for in wisedom. He ran his tavern with wits and that was the smartest thing that a business owner could do; at least in the eyes of Shynthriir.

Garth looked up and smiled at the sight of his most loyal custoner and employee, You know what to do with it Shynth, he said, using the name that all of Shynthriir's friends called him by. Are you sure you don't want any gold for your work? You know as well as any that we have enough gold for you.

Shynthriir raised the hand that was not supporting the wood, I've denied you once and denied you again countless times. You should know that if and when I do need money, I know I can turn to you. He left it at that and then walked out of the room to the wood storage room. Garth was about to say something, but then realized the wisedom in his friend's words and then returned to his desk work.

He came to the room that was used for storing the wood used to fuel the fireplace in the tavern. The man working there wasn't in the room at the moment, though he didn't need him to be there. He knew where to put the pile well enough and then placed the wood in the corner along with the little bit that was left there.

He then returned to the main room to find the woman still waiting there for him. He took her by the hand and then kissed it. I have not been able to formally introduce myself yet. My name is Shynthriir, and please, do not be afraid of my looks. I am a drow as it looks, but I have a heart as great as any. Just then Hanah came back with the hot tea and Shynthriir took it for the woman.

Please, follow me. I know which table it the warmest in the tavern. Let us sit down and talk there.
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Zazara
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Her mind was still upon the maid's actions and reactions, missing the near fall of the wood from the drow's shoulder. She was only shaken from her thoughts when he spoken to her, letting her know that he would be just a moment while he set down the wood. Nodding her head toward him silently in response, she crossed her arms in front of her and loosely folded the fur over them as she remained in her spot to wait for his return. As he seemed responsible for his duties around the tavern, she could not help be acknowledge how happy he seemed to have been to get the wood and to bring it indoors for the others to use it. In all her time as royalty, she had never seen a servant so genuinely eager to work and happy to do so as well.

Then again, he was eager to set it down as well. Perhaps I misread his actions earlier. More than likely, the weight of such a load would have gotten to his back. It was indeed a large among of wood. In fact, it was such a large amount of wood, that no one would carry it all in by themselves if they didn't have to do so. She pondered the thought of him as a slave, forced to carry the wood in daily, even out in the cold like today. But he dressed much too well for such a things and in these parts, slavery was not widely known. Ruling that out, she was reassured by her first thoughts, that he was a good worker and enjoyed his work. Servant and slave he is definitely not, just one of the every day men found inside this cheerful village of Kellen. Her last thoughts had her eyes showing the delight from her conclusions.

Her wait was not long, unlike what she had expected. He had quickly returned and was awarded the pleasant smile which embraced her face as he bestowed upon her a greeting which she was more accustomed to. Introducing himself in the process as Shynthriir. It flattered her for the most part, but his hand was as cold as ice and she quickly knew that he too needed the fire. While he had been away, she did catch a glimpse of the fireplace, near a less than crowded corner. Before she could point her findings out and lead him to a table which she had chosen from afar, the maid had returned with her cup of tea. Shynthriir had quickly taken it from her and began to lead Zazara back by hand, which he had still not yet released.

She was a bit shocked by their quick retreat, having not yet paid for the cup of tea. Weaving between patrons and tables as she followed him back, she could only turn to look back for the bar maid, who had already left to tend to the counter once more. Without Zazara's payment. Such odd behavior, but how could he take the cup and pull me away without giving me time to pay for the tea myself? As they neared the table she had spotted, she turned her eyes back around, watching him from behind. It was indeed the warmest of all tables as it was closest to the fire, something that the elf was more than grateful for at the time. So grateful and warm again, that she had her forgotten about the payment, taking this time now to introduce herself to him.

"It is a pleasure to meet with you Shynthriir. I am Zazara Arabilyth, as you can see, it is my first time here in the village of Kellen. While the thought of meeting a drow has always worried me, I feel that I am in good hands." Her voice was sweet as she hoped her compliment would be to him, her eyes showing the pleasure in their acquaintance. She decided for the time being it would be best to leave out the fact that she was in fact the princess of Fassil. She had no idea if there were thieves about or even worse, assassins. Along with her proper upbringing, she had always been warned about sharing with outsiders your true origins, especially if you found yourself alone and without the king's protection. Lifting his hand in the air, she bowed her head in formal greeting, the best she could do in reply to his. It was then she remembered the payment of the tea and quickly freed her hand from his, looking worried as she pulled at a small leather pouch which hung low from her belt. The sound of metal coins clinking together as she pulled it free and gave him a wide eyed look.

"I nearly forgot. You whisked me away to this table in such a hurry, that I didn't have time enough to pay for my drink. I must return to the maid and give her proper payment. It is the right thing to do." It was concern that shook her voice and for good reason too. Zazara was worried that she would in the end be charged with some kind of crime, for stealing the tea instead of paying for it. A crime that would not look good upon her when she returned to Taras. Laying her coat over the back of the chair, she frowned now at him, wondering if her first impression of him had been true or if he was the type that she had vowed to rid from her lands and of Imythess.
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Shynthriir
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Zazara. An interesting name if ever he heard on, though who exactly was he to speal of such thing; his name being all the more interesting and hard to pronouce on top of that. Perhaps her name was of some importance in the race of the Wood Elfs, for he finally decided that that was her race due to her pureness and beauty. This he did not know and he might bring it up in conversation later on, though he doubted that a conversation woulc come to the origins of their own names.

When they got to the table, she gave him a more formal greating, she bowed a gracefull bow. He had never recieved such a welcoming and passed it off, too, a something relating to her race, he really should go and learn more about them. Though, then again, he would probably learn enough tonight with her than he would in any book he might find in the town's small library.

They had still yet to sit down when all of the sudden, she wanted to go off and pay for the drink, the look in her eyes were that of worry and he knew that he should explain his position at this tavern sooner rather than later. She took his hand away from his own, but once he realized her intentions, he took it once again saying, Don't you worry about paying for it, I said I would pay for something for you to drink and eat and I mean to keep my word. He almost had to laugh at the comment, he in fact didn't have to pay for it anyway.

Please, sit down. I will surely clear any worries if you will let me explain, he said while himself sitting down. When I first came to this town, this tavern was not as good as it is now, he motioned to all the happy faces and the bustling workers of the guild that were there.

I have always felt welcome in all the taverns I have traveled to and when I found this one to be in a slump business-wise, I knew that I had to do something to help them. I helped out in bigger things before, nearly doing every job that was available at this place in my own hands. I would keep the place as clean as I could and would make sure people were happy, which is far from easy when you are a drow. I managed though and slowly more people came from the city.

Word was good about the food and rink from this tavern and rumors quickly spread to neighbooring towns about this place. More people came and in turn, more people came to help it flourish. My load was lessened and the profits were plenty.

Garth, the owner of this lovely place felt that he should pay me for all the work that I did for him. I couldn't take the money though. I was only doing what in my heart felt right. I was happy to see this place turned upside down and become one of, if not, the best tavern in Imythess. He kept trying to give me money, but I continued to turn him down. Even today, when I passed his office, he tried to give me some gold, again with the same answer.

He wouldn't let me continue to help if he didn't do something for me. He lets me get food and drink here at no expense, an offer that I could not refuse, after all, I need to eat too.


Hanah, the waitress came by once more, I see you found yehself a lady friend she said quietly to Shynthriir, though still loud enough for Zazara to hear her.

Shynthriir laughed slightly and then replied simply, A good evening to you too Hanah. Please, could you bring me a cup of too also?

Right away, she replied in her normal cheerful place and then quickly walked away. She always seemed to do things with a quicker pace in her step when doing things from him. Do I really deserve such treatment? he questioned for not the first time. He never thought what he did a good thing, just what came natural to him.
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Zazara
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Zazara listened intently to his story as he spoke, liking the sound of his voice as he told it. It wasn't something that she had expected, but upon finding, she was rather pleased. Shynthriir spoke of how he had come to be in Kellen and how his services were paid for through food and beverage here at the tavern. Slowly she reached out her free hand for the mug, taking it gently from his grasp before she took her seat across the table from him, watching intently as he continued to speak. The armor was still cool against her skin, but within moments, it began to warm, in turn, warming her chilled body.

The maid, or Hanah as Shynthriir had called her, had approached them with the same bubbly aura, only to rush off in order to prepare Shynthriir's drink. Zazara wondered if the food she had asked for would be brought out soon as well, imagining what it would taste like, realizing that she was famished from her long journey. The smells of the tavern had her stomach aching again as it twisted and turned while she waited. Feeling a bit impatient the high elf turned for moment to search for Hanah, curious if she was already on her way back with it, but seeing no sign of the giddy girl.

It wasn't abnormally loud within the tavern, the fire crackling to their left, the patrons laughing and conversing to their right. It was a harmonious tone, one that calmed a guest into relaxation. An icy breeze from a sealed window at her back ran a chill down her back as she sipped from the warm mug, letting the hot liquids coat her inners with a bitter and warm sensation as they trickled all the way down to her empty stomach. Goosebumps formed upon her pale arms, disturbing their smooth surface. Zazara didn't brush them away though, instead sitting calmly at the table, enjoying her company.

The jewels upon her armor glittered in the light of the fire and the candles that had been lit in high chandeliers. It all appeared so perfect, how the woodworking of the chandeliers, mantles, tables and even chairs matched. Polished and worn over what could have been years, giving it all an antique look. Even small imperfections, such as a notch upon the edge of a table or nick from a mantle, looked to be delicately planned and designed. Her blue eyes watched the room as a content sigh was released, knowing that this could be some place that she could spend her time. Knowing that it all must have played some part in the drow's reason's for staying. Setting down her cup, she gave an approving glance across the people, glad to see such happiness spread across the lands. As she did, the elf's thin, pale lips curved into what looked to be a satisfied smile before she spoke to Shynthriir.

"It is amazing what one can accomplish, especially if their heart has been placed into it. You have done well here Shynthriir." Her voice was soft as her chin was held high, turning her softened gaze toward the drow once more. Her free hand lifting her mug toward him in a bit of a toast, bowing her head in respect. His hand had grown warmer as they sat near the fire she thought, sipping again from the mug. It had done him a world of good to sit inside. For a working man, his hands were smoother than she had thought them to be at first, though the thought hadn't been the first to cross her mind. It was nice enough though to share this time with him, giving him a little more trust as the time went on. Sensing that the stories told of the drow race from her own people were not stories of all drow, especially not this one. This one seems different. Pleasantly different.

Moving her thumb down his fingers, she blushed at the thought of their contact. It was not one that she was familiar with, even when courted by high and prestigious elf men. As much as she enjoyed it, she could not help but to feel embarrassed, showing so by the color that had flared upon her cheeks. She didn't move her hand just yet, searching her mind for a way to distract her thoughts from her actions so that she might become less embarrassed from them. Finally, she found a topic that would benefit her needs while providing typical conversation for them to speak openly about.

"I must tell you, I hadn't come to Kellen for the rumors of their tavern. I had originally come for a steed, having heard that only the best come out of Kellen." As the topic turned more to business, the smile that had once been over her lips dimmed to a more serious and proper expression. "I searched all of Taras to find that I would need to travel here to find what it was I had been looking for. I wonder if you couldn't tell me more of the horses that the people of Kellen breed here." Her voice was a bit softer in tone, no longer stern as she asked for his help in finding the proper steed. One that would hopefully take her home, where she would tend to the business of her lands once more.
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