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... head back, barely in time to keep the glowing teeth of the weakest and slowest dungeon beast in existence from closing around his neck. He was still woozy enough from the teleport into this place that he wasn't sure he knew up from down, but he knew he couldn't let an entrance mote separate his head from the rest of his body.

In the histories, being laid low by the entrance motes happened so rarely that it was usually only mentioned as a joke. "He couldn't pass his motes" was something y ...

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