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... things I wanted to ask you."
Old Mercer shot him a look, and Franz, taking the hint, walked off to check on the cowshed.
"Go on, son."
His large, rough hands raised an axe, ready to chop firewood. But with a single cast of Rorschach’s Decomposition Skill, the branch split into neat strips of kindling.
"I took a job, and... well, the deal I made with my employer was to have twelve Gold Coins sent here to you every month. Have you been getting them? There should hav ...
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