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The person above me longs to cut a gory swath of red ruin through those that would stand in her rightful way. She will split the fearful faces of those that oppose her will, spilling their teeth upon the bloodstained earth. Their ears will decorate her supple neck. She will drink their finest wine from the skulls of their children. Her story will be written on their skins. She will weave her blade into a net of steel wreathing herself with enemy dead until her sword is too heavy too lift.
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