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... ja in the rafters, some warrior come to avenge the perceived slight to honor to someone I’d bumped into in my travels, something like that.
I got to watch a small patrol boat, its sailors hard at work cleaning out their metal gourd weapons. I really needed to learn what to call those.
More than that, I wanted to see what they could do. I’d heard the tales, of course, that the Daurians refined the black blood of the Earth into a powder, and that with certain chemicals it became a ...
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