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... when I woke up this morning.
[Incoming Raid: 18 Days Remaining.]
Not ominous at all. Nope. Totally normal thing to wake up to.
I sat up, scratched at the moss mat we called a bed, and stared blearily at the main square through the half-built watchtower window.
Ashring looked... good.
Better than good.
The moss golems lumbered around stacking supplies. The goblins were already arguing with Bitterstack over which trading stall belonged to who.
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