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... at night, and even he wasn't used to wandering this late. He couldn't wait to trade the silence in for sleep.
Black windows stared down at him, the trees were almost bare, and though the weather had tended toward rain lately, the grounds looked well-kept. There was barely any grit underneath his boots. The flower boxes he passed were almost clichéd in how colorful they were.
Hadica, the City of the Gardens. The perfect place for a [Woodcutter] turned [Fighter], he'd been told. It ...
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