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Iron Blooded - Forty: The Depths
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Thirty Nine: Iron Will
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Forty One: The Rot Within
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... aw that the chair across from my cot was empty. Gills stood in the entrance, his face a mask of worry.
I sat up quickly, wincing as my new bruises stretched.
“What is it?” I asked him. From the light outside I could tell it was still day, but Gills was agitated by something.
“There is trouble in the city,” he said. “Last night there were reports of refugees going missing. Just this morning a body was found by the entrance of the sewer.”
I blinked away the fog from ...
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