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Father Quadrial, still a little stunned from the emotional and physical events that have transpired watch the flying team while sitting in the grass.
The monk feel young again physically, all the wounds and aches of age gone, but his spirit feels like it has aged a hundred years.
He could understand why people who spoke to the gods preferred isolation.
"I don't think it is a good idea to split up the party." he said, mostly to himself. "Gifts like these do not come without a very steep price tag. We will need every arm, every weapon, every strong back and mind if we are to survive this night."
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