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... tic antlers adorning his bald head, he did not look awe inspiring. His face was kindly, soft lines belying a man who smiled often. He had a set of plain robes that exposed a positively mundane physique. A body hardened from exposure to the elements and the rough work of tending the land, not the defined sculpture of a cultivator; it was the physique of a father who had let himself go to seed, comfortable in his skin. If not for the horns, he could almost be mortal.

Almost.

If you ...

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