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Wiping away the slave girl’s tears with a thumb, the owner of the hand spoke in a hoarse voice, “Get up.”
The slave girl lifted her head and saw a face covered by a bandana, with disheveled hair and a dirty bandana, but the eyes that were exposed shone so brightly she could hardly keep hers open.
She was clad in a leather armor that had seen better days; its edges frayed from wear. A large sword, its hilt wrapped in tattered cloth, hung on her back. As she squatted down ...
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