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Now that the pain is down to a reasonable level, Father
Quadrial open a leather pouch with his good hand and pulls a bundle of herbs wrapped in cheeseclothe which he chews a bit then tucks into his check. Slowly a sense of strength and well being takes him over. He knows he will pay for the strength later but now it is important to follow the damn crows and not slow up the party.
Taking his staff in his good hand, he looks at the group. "We'd best be moving before it gets dark. Who know what evil will travel the roads out then."
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