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... vastation of a full two thirds of the plague. While he didn’t hold overmuch respect for their dead, nor was it possible to completely avoid getting his boots coated in all varieties of unmentionable, feeling his weight pulp flesh beneath his boot was still disgusting.

So he did his best, relying on supernatural dexterity and strength to hop between islands of clean stone as he made his way to the slain warchief’s and shaman’s tents.

“Show off.” Porkchop muttered.

Kaius sn ...

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