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:: In the heart of a hedge maze, a gentle girl in a shapely silk dress stands hand in hand with another, a girl in a quilted tunic with an arming sword at her side. ::
The king is dead, long live the kings.
:: In the heart of a hedge maze, a gentle girl in a shapely silk dress stands hand in hand with another, a girl in a quilted tunic with an arming sword at her side. ::
:: Ash, dust, and shadow swirl. A young woman steps from the Void, a Cup scarred into her breast. ::
Maker. You call and we come.
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:: They are atop a spire. The Strands of Order and Sovereignty radiate through them to the four directions.
:: Sensing their hesitation, the Eye above opens, glaring down. The High Priestess must be found.
:: Though they struggle, it cannot be overcome.
:: They pull. ::
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:: Ash, dust, and shadow swirl. A young woman steps from the Void, a Cup scarred into her breast. ::
Maker. You call and we come.
💠