by Jesse Zimmerman

Chapter Eight: A Poisonous Ballad
Our party—myself, the fisher, the herder, and the ranger—we all rest in the new location. Here it is dark, the Ophus having shrunk small and dimmed since transporting us here. In the little light we see a nearby wall across from us.

The Challenger stands after a while, bow in hand. Tepidly, he steps around, circling the limited radius of light that the Ophus exudes.

‘Do not wander far, an abyss is near. When I grow brighter we move,’ says the Ophus meekly.

‘Where to?’ asks Ura, yawning as she too gets up.

‘Away from the abyss,’ replies the light being. ‘There are ways from there, higher in ascent than here, an overseeing ledge like we saw before on the other side. From this new place you will see your town.’

‘I’ve found it, the abyss,’ remarks the Challenger. He leans twelve paces away from us, towards the far wall. The ranger is crouching, running his hands over the lip of this great pit between us and the wall. He tosses something, a pebble.

‘Deep?’ I ask him from where I lie, sprawled out next to the vessel that holds the Ophus.

‘Very,’ says the ranger, making his way back to us from the short distance.

‘It reaches near to the bottom,’ says the Ophus, glowing a bit within the vase.

The Challenger tells us he will scout the other way, get a look at the direction we intend to travel in, and he wanders off into the dark. Hearing his fading footfalls, I lean back, finding this hard floor comfortable only because my body is aching from all the moving its been doing in this journey. We rest a little longer, K’Nat, Ura, and I, the Ophus beaming bit by bit brighter, also recovering.

‘The floor moves gently upward,’ says the Challenger when he soon returns to us, breaking our snooze.

‘It is not so far from the open ledge,’ says the Ophus with a strong voice, making me wonder if I had been sleeping.

‘Never did I think I would meet an Ophus,’ says the ranger as he rejoins us.

‘Ah, never did I think I would meet such companions!’ the Ophus beams, sending forth warmth as we all gather in front of our ally, the fisher stretching his wide arms over his head..

The Challenger says: ‘I read once, long ago in a class by a Gnomish professor about the Ophi. I still have my notes from that lecture somewhere in my tree.’

‘I should have stayed more semesters,’ I confess, telling them: ‘I left my studies early to begin my writing career, such as it is.’

‘Never did I think I would meet one so young yet wise as you,’ says the Ophus, facing me. ‘An explorer you are, Chainmail, who offers help to those in need of it.

‘Nor did I ever think that I would be in the presence of a warrior so brave as you, K’Nat,’ the Ophus continues as the big fisher blushes. ‘A leader among his folk, looked upon with adoration. Your name shall be revered in these parts for ages, your descendants afforded eternal respect.

‘And I cannot say that I would know that I would be among one such as you, Ura, Daughter of Urana and Carwu,’ speaks the Ophus next. ‘The name of your clan will echo upon the tundra heartland, a guiding light for those making their path.’

‘Thank you,’ says Ura, standing proudly beside K’Nat.

‘Ah, I would never have thought that I would meet you, Challenger. Neutral and chaotic though you claim to be, I see goodness. You, the archetypal ranger, someone who has tasted the zest, such a blessing makes you able to bring this madness to an end.’

‘Madness?’ says the Challenger, shrugging a little. ‘The beings who captain this device trade for coins and give the worst deal? If this place is mad, then so is the whole world.’

‘Might be,’ exhales the Ophus, having grown larger. ‘Friends, once my work is done I am without purpose. Yours continue when the quest is done, so many purposes, your land, your folk!’

There is a sudden breeze somewhere in the distance, from the way we intend to go, and I hear a faint sound, a rapping from somewhere far below. My companions have noticed, their looks changing from calm and flattered to attentive and apprehensive.

‘Something,’ the Challenger mutters from the side of the abyss, the closest of us to the edge.

‘Yes, something,’ agrees the Ophus, its floating reddish-pink form hovering over the spout of its ceramic container. K’Nat and Ura are stirring, poised for their next moves.

‘Danger, danger!’ says the Challenger, randomly waving his arms, taking a step away from the abyss. The fisher and the herdswoman move back as well.

The Ophus grows quickly, floating higher. Ura swiftly grabs hold of it, placing the Ophus in the little satchel on my back.

‘What danger?’ K’Nat asks, bringing his shield from the floor.

Ura picks up the Challenger’s blade, having lost her knife back at the bridge.

‘My sword is a rental now,’ quips the Challenger, doing his usual arrow-preparation upon his bowstring.

‘The abyss!’ the Ophus shouts over my shoulders as we all form a row, K’Nat holding his thick shield, covering himself and part of Ura and me at his other side.

We each step back about ten paces back from the lip of the pit. Now I hear something loud, this sound of movement, of tapping and rapping, climbing, repetitive sounds that get louder, closer. I look at the others, but none of them look back, all gazing into the unseen below.

The noises cease. I hear only a bowstring being pulled back.

In the growing light I see a bulging form rise from the precipice’s edge. Two thick arms reveal themselves, their clawed ends grabbing onto the sides of the pit. Four more arms come into sight, prompting me to step back behind K’Nat.

‘I hate this guy,’ mutters the ranger before shooting an arrow into the dark mass.

‘Ettercap!’ cries K’Nat, bracing himself behind his shield, stepping towards the edge. On this immense carapiece before us I see smears of blue, the wounds my friends had earlier given it.

From over my shoulder, the Ophus declares: ‘I GRANT THE POWER OF THE SEASTORM!’

Little flashes of pink appear around K’Nat, his shield turned a brilliant shimmering red. When the bulky creature has lifted itself up onto the floor using its six upper appendages, it stands upright, human-like, upon its lower two. The fisher raises his shield over himself, crouching in place. The Challenger, at his side, pulls again on his bowstring, aiming a fresh arrow higher up. I see an arm shooting forth, its claw grasping the top of the bow before the ranger can shoot.

On its other side I see Ura swinging the ranger’s sword, moving in fast while K’Nat pushes with his shield, thrusting all of himself against the front of the monster.

The enemy draws back, managing to raise each of its arms, getting free of Ura’s range on one side,  taking in one of its upper claws the bow and with it, the Challenger, who still grasps its grip.

‘My bow!’ I hear the Challenger cry out as I see all of him get lifted up halfway to the tunnel’s ceiling. He kicks his legs, his green cloak flapping.

‘CAREFUL, THE ABYSS!’ cries the Ophus. The ground at Ura and K’Nat’s feet becomes covered in light then, revealing the steep edge. We three move back a few steps, Ura squeezing herself a bit behind the wide shield. She calls to the Challenger.

The ranger moves fast, managing to kick off from the cavern wall nearby when the monstrous creature raises its arms further up. The Challenger lets go of his bow, flipping himself in a move so fast I can barely follow from where I stand. Once his move is ended both of his feet are upon the monster’s shoulders, the ranger leaning upon its nape..

A hairy arm reaches behind itself, grasping at its upper back, barely missing the ranger as he crouches from sight. The light all around us becomes brighter, and though I linger back without a weapon, I feel energized and I know the others feel it too. The Ophus is granting us more powers. K’Nat cries out, running in again, Ura following him. I follow, unsure of what else to do, emboldened by our mysterious ally.

The towering creature suddenly turns about, stepping towards the nearest of the side walls of the tall corridor. Bracing itself, the spidery beast smacks its broad outer carapace against the wall, trying to crush the agile fighter on its back, grunting as it writhes against the wall.

I see the Challenger climb over to the front of the shoulders first, moving ironically alike a spider. Bearing no blade, he starts swinging one of his fists at the creature’s face, wedging his feet into the nooks and niches of its fleshy abdominal bulge.

‘STRIKE!’ shouts the Ophus.

K’Nat reaches the ettercap once more, slamming hard against the creature’s exposed side. Above, the Challenger leaps, landing on the floor ten paces away, rolling like an unraveling ball of yarn as the beast smashes against the wall again, and then its whole body falls further backwards, toppling over the abyss from whence it emerged, having been hit hard by the aided fisher.

Ura shouts at my side, we two finding there is not enough room for us to move in at the fisher’s side without falling over the edge of the abyss ourselves.

As the ranger gets back to his feet near us, K’Nat turns about and breathes in short bursts. A wave of sweat is falling over his broad face. He barely smiles when we hear hisses emitting from the cliffside, followed by the sound of scurrying of many claws.

‘RUN!’ cries the Ophus.

The Challenger mutters to the rest of us. In front of him sits his bow, miraculously unhindered. He takes an arrow from his quiver, then grabs the bow and loads it.

From the abyss shoots a string of webbing, upward like a grasping tentacle, its end sticking to the roof of the cavern overhead.

As we tear through the upward-sloping tunnel, I turn my head and I see it, the spider-beast, already risen, having used the webbing as a rope – now it is bounding after us on all eight limbs, no longer upright, charging whilst alternating between crawling on the floor, the ceiling, and the two walls. 

The Challenger shoots a few arrows off, barely slowing his gait. Each bolt misses as the ettercap, large as it is, swings out of the way.

Above me the Ophus is chanting, their unworldly words emanating warmth against my back. There is a splattering sound as something squirts forth from the hazy expanse that is the Ophus, passing over me, splashing onto the floor, in the path of the approaching creature.

The Challenger, readying another arrow, pauses as the ettercap ambles close, the first of its rotating arms sliding into the red paste that the Ophus just deposited.

I pivot my feet and rush over to the small area behind the Challenger, acting as the legs for the Ophus, terrified, yet feeling protected. Two of the beast’s limbs, both on its right side, the highest and the brawny middle one, are stuck in the goo, the creature entrapped. Its three left-leaning arms, the only ones not caught in the sticky paste, are all thrashing, reaching for the ranger who is just enough paces away to be ungraspable.

Ura turns, backing off to give the spidery monster a wide berth.

I see the hideous face of the creature in its light, the reflection of the Ophus in each of its seven eyes, a black hole where its eighth eye was. They narrow in on Ura, who stands readying a swing. From long pincer-like mandibles shoots forth a white bulge, a glob of sorts, hitting her hand, knocking the sword from her grip, sending it clattering back towards the curving wall behind us.

As she cries bravely K’Nat rushes, pushing against the monster, shield-first. The Challenger leans to avoid hitting the fisher, then fires an arrow, piercing a reaching claw.

I hang back, crouching, finding myself exposed as the fisher has moved and Ura dashes to the far wall to retrieve the fallen sword. The Challenger, over at my side, shoots another arrow into the entrapped side of the enemy, striking hard into the thing’s thick carapace. Something seizes the bowman then, a hitherto unseen arm, shooting from the shadows. It grabs him by his nape, tugging him backwards into the area behind itself, sending the Challenger sliding underneath its slanted form.

K’Nat raises his shield, baring his lower self, pushing upward to smash it against the monster’s face. The Ophus behind me thunders our instructions, bidding Ura to strike and for me to step forth. The herdswoman is at my side, armed once more. Shrugging, I do as I’m told, despite my fear. From behind the shifting mass, I can see the Challenger draw in from behind, an arrow in each of his hands, no longer bearing his bow.

In the ensuing frenzied melee I hear his shouts: ‘To thee I now leap! To my last I grapple!’

The bold fisher is pushing himself into the fiend’s abdomen, tilting his shoulder into the back of his shield, pressing hard. Three free arms on its upturned side reach out, descending in unison upon K’Nat, and each claw, even the one with an arrow skewered through it, finds part of him to clasp around, lifting him off his feet.

His ancestral shield falls on the stony floor, no longer pulsating with red light. I reach for it, hearing Ura’s warcry just past me. Stealing a look at the monster, I see the spider-beast bringing K’Nat towards its maw, the sight making me pause in my movement, my legs feeling weak.

‘TO YOU, URA, I GRANT THE STRENGTH OF A HUNDRED HERDS, AN ONSLAUGHT OF ANTLERS!’ declares an Ophus, almost burning at my back..

A glowing red blade swoops into my sight.

K’Nat falls next to his shield.

Then there is a split moment of dark before in my sight I see only a flashing blade with seven orbs reflecting the illuminance.

The forms of two arms reach at the swinging blade, trying to impede its trajectory. Flashing red light overwhelms, as strong as the false sun that burns hundreds of paces beneath our feet. 

There is a shrill hiss, as sharp as an erupting jet of steam.

Without thought, suddenly feeling secure, I charge forward, taking hold of K’Nat’s shield, no longer afraid, and I place the broad shield over him.

‘Chainmail, duck!’ shouts the Challenger, his voice coming from near the ceiling of the shaft.

 I fall back as claws swipe over my helmet, knocking it off. I land on my rear, then begin rolling away.

A final long hiss follows just as the red light fades.

Bumping against the opposite wall, I stop rolling, letting my body rest nestled there in a little alcove. Waiting for my breaths to slow down to normal, I gently take the sack with the Ophus off my back. Some light beams out from the vessel of the Ophus, weak, but enough that I see Ura standing a few paces in front of us, hands clasped around the handle of a sword lodged inside the head of our enemy. The herdswoman still pants, her shoulders heaving at each breath.

‘All of its eyes are out,’ the fisher mutters on the floor just behind her, leaning up a little on his side.

‘Not bad for a human, eh Ophus?’ pants the Challenger. He stands on the back of the fallen creature, two arrows clasped in his grip, both of their barbed ends dripping with blue goo.

‘Not… at… all… ’ answers the Ophus in a voice billowing like a candle at my side. I bring the sack with the Ophus up in my hands, slowly walking over to the others.

Ura turns around and moves to the fisher, leaving the sword lodged where it is. She runs a hand over K’Nat’s midsection, looking at the black liquid that is mixing with his own fresh blood. I am looking over him, using the little light from the Ophus to see.

‘By all the gods I have couriered for,’ says the Ophus. ‘A bite… a bite from the Gumo.’

‘I am hurt,’ agrees K’Nat with an exhaustive groan, starting to lean further. The ranger rushes over to him, urging him to stay down before the ranger tears off his own cloak, and then his jerkin, revealing his linked light armour. The Challenger places all the fabrics against the fisher’s wound, wrapping it about his girth.

‘Great Maeth,’ says Ura as she places an arm under his neck. She reaches her other hand to inspect her pockets, bringing out a small orange root from one, telling the fisher to chew it up to help with the pain.

Accepting the medicine, plopping it into his mouth, K’Nat then grabs into his vest, bringing out a small flask, immediately popping out the tiny cork with his thumb, pouring the contents onto his wound. His wound sizzles as the black liquid erupts into frothy bubbles, causing me to groan in empathy. The ranger finishes tying a knot with his jerkin, tightening the fabric’s force against the fresh injury. K’Nat quickly pulls out another small flask, drinking this one.

‘The venom,’ says the Ophus weakly.

‘We need to get him out,’ says Ura.

‘I need time… to transport,’ says the Ophus, its smoky shape barely seeping through the spout of its vessel. Upon my arms I feel how little warmth there is.

‘Tell me true, Ophus, how long do I have?’ K’Nat says through a wheeze. He looks pale, far from his healthy shade.

The Ophus only murmurs something, a kind of an uncertain sound.

‘I slew it,’ Ura says calmly to K’Nat, brushing some of his long curly bangs from over his eyes.

‘Did you?’ he says, smiling up at her with a brave chuckle. ‘I distracted the beast.’

‘You did more than that, K’Nat,’ I tell him, placing the straps carrying the Ophus over my shoulders, bearing the light companion once more on my back.

‘The ledge, can we go there?’ asks the Challenger to the Ophus, looking away from the wounded fisher. ‘You can transport us out of here if you see where you are going, right?’

The Ophus, its small flame forming into a face over my shoulder, gives a small nod. Ura and the Challenger help the fisher to his feet, the herdswoman placing her shoulder around him, keeping him steady. K’Nat groans, turning to the defeated brute as he and the herdswoman pass it, the fisher spitting on the ground before its lifeless eyes. In the faint light I find myself cringing as I look upon the dead face. Its head hangs, goo dripping from its dangling jawbones. I keep my distance, the thing still looking deadly in death.

The Challenger, letting go of K’Nat, letting Ura take over, lingers behind for a moment. As I follow the other two I hear a blade sliding out of the place where it was lodged.

‘There are things back in the town, medicines, some from my folk,’ Ura says to K’Nat. ‘I know how to give you a chance, but I cannot do it here.’

‘Of my many spells, I can merely heal but the faintest of wounds,’ says the Ophus sadly. ‘Ura, a healer. Your medicines will help.’

‘If I were not hurting so I would carve out each eye of that cursed thing!’ grunts the fisher. ‘For the fishers of Tenth Town we have a tale! A hideous song, a poisonous ballad! Ouch.’

‘Steady, careful,’ Ura tells him.

‘They are wretched things made from hatred and rage,’ the Ophus explains with some vigour returning. ‘They drift to foul places. Where there are shadows and the very worst of lies, that is where you find them.’

‘Ah, that’s why it came here,’ says Ura.

‘It slew your companion,’ the Ophus adds.

‘Oh yeah, Achalay,’ the Challenger remarks casually.

‘We will make it!’ Ura insists as we move on through yet another curving corridor, a tunnel with a steadily rising floor, no longer chased. Thankfully, our surroundings slowly become brighter the higher we step. This light is that of the sun, the real one. Despite the long trek, I feel motivated to keep moving, our predicament commanding it.

‘Healing glare,’ says K’Nat when we take a final turn onto an area of pure brightness, a bare open window as long as half the chamber we are inside of, a place not unlike the earlier open ledge we encountered. Beyond the long opening in the wall beams white-yellow, a radiant sheet.

Against the opposite wall, Ura eases K’Nat onto the stony ground, the fisher groaning as he leans. Looking over to the ledge across from them, I lower my hands from my face, overwhelmed by the light from outside. There is another illumination, that of the Ophus, and it grows. The Challenger steps over to me, taking out the ceramic item from my satchel, placing it at K’Nat’s side.

‘Yes,’ says the Ophus to the fisher. ‘I see it from here, Tenth Town. Long ago, in the when I was of middle age, it was the hinterlands of the Glacian Empire. Here were coastal cities, bridges, temples made of stone and brick.’

‘Ah, the ruins to the East? I’ve camped there,’ says the Challenger.

‘Old blocks!’ says K’Nat, coughing. ‘The fishers know them.’

‘The walls there, long abandoned,’ adds Ura. ‘And the wells of yore. Now, Ophus, can we travel? I must go with him.’

‘We cannot leave yet,’ the Ophus says, expanding at a steady pace, nearly rising to the low roof. The Ophus speaks to me next and I do as asked, moving the Ophus jar a few paces closer to the opening ledge. By now my eyes have adjusted and I see the Challenger standing ahead of us. He looks out, discerning a long winding shore, some parts with cliffs. As I follow his gaze, I know I’ve found Tenth Town once I see a wide inlet that looks like a sweeping crack in the land. From here the town itself looks small within the backdrop of the sprawling landmass, a mere collection of strangely coloured dots against wide swathes of green, brown, and white.

‘Walrus Bay,’ says the Challenger. Now we have the scope out. Looking through, the ranger chuckles, telling us he sees the inn, but neither of the innkeepers yet. He looks for his grove, but cannot make it out in the dense forests around the town.

‘From here, less trees than I would have thought,’ the herdswoman says, walking over to stand between us. This confuses me since it seems there are so many woods, but to her, a denizen of this land, it might be less than before. She adds that it might be more grazing land in the long-run.

‘The townmaster must have been busy since we’ve been here,’ says the Challenger, handing her the scope.

‘Smoke,’ she says while she is scanning, moving her face and hands to take everything in.  ‘All along the edges of the town—a wall, a wall of timber!’ she gasps.

‘A border,’ says the Challenger, shaking his head. ‘Those are never good.’

‘Why would they build a wall?’ I ask them.

‘To keep others out,’ replies the Challenger. ‘Why else?’

‘My folk come in and out of Tenth Town to trade. Some of us live half the season in town!’ says Ura, giving me the scope next.

‘It sounds like someone is using the appearance of this device for their own ends,’ the Ophus says, speaking quickly. ‘The leader, yes, Dorf Trot! He is building the walls! I have heard it in the murmurings of the townsfolk!’

‘A political sidequest, ugh, just what we needed,’ the ranger says glumly, looking over at the wounded fisher who grins back at him. K’Nat mentions that too many fishers support Dort Trot, for reasons he knows not.

Overlooking Tenth Town, I spot the inn a few roads up from the shore, the semi-slanted roof that belongs to Pruza and Meela. I manage to make out a small crowd at the porch. Behind me I think I hear Ura chanting softly.

‘Such a sleepy town,’ I say. ‘The kind of place where folk usually go to escape troubles.’

‘Why I chose to live near,’ says the ranger, accepting the scope from the herdswoman. She returns to K’Nat’s side.

‘Stay with them,’ says K’Nat tenderly, reaching for her arm. ‘They need you.’

‘I must help heal you,’ says Ura, taking his hand gently.

‘The time is near,’ declares the Ophus, some of its light overtaking me while a kindly breeze blows in from the window, carrying with it a sweet scent. K’Nat breathes deeply. For the next while the Ophus tells of where to travel next, speaking to the Challenger and myself.

We are told there is more tunnel further from this room and we see the archway that leads us onward, and then the Ophus mentions a vault before the climb up; at the top of the device a fortress rests on the surface where the magi-merchants dwell. And then the Ophus gives something to me, a beaming orb of light, what I am told is a piece of the essence of itself. This gift feels warm as I let it rest in my palm. It fades when I clasp it, glowing stronger when I release my grip. 

K’Nat mutters, standing slowly, saying: ‘I want to be standing for my people when I reappear down there.’

‘The first thing we’ll do is head for the medicine hut,’ says Ura, holding the Ophus in its satchel under her arm.

‘I WILL COME BACK,’ speaks the Ophus, its face now round and wide, having grown to fill most of the room. ‘I SHALL RETURN BACK TO YOUR HANDS, THE PLACE I LEFT… ’

There is a bright red flash and then the Ophus, K’Nat, and Ura are gone.

We two remain standing for a moment, amazed at what we just witnessed. The ranger then tells me to describe what I see on the land down in the distance. Raising the scope to my eyes, I look to the faraway shore. We both return to the edge here.

‘Fishers, dockers, all down at the shore near the pier,’ I describe for the Challenger. ‘Ah, there they are! They are moving. K’Nat must be aching bad. Oh, they are bringing out a teak stretcher. He is on it now, being rolled through the road. There, that must be the medicine hut. Ura is carrying the Ophus!’

‘The Ophus likely will not grow for a long while,’ says the Challenger.

‘K’Nat is taken through the doorway. Ura follows, some of the young fishers, one I think called Flexi, behind them,’ I say. ‘Oh, now Flexi is leaving the medicine hut, running along the streets!’

‘Pruza? Meela?’ asks the ranger.

 At the porch of the merry inn I see the cluster of people I had sighted earlier, some of them wearing armour, herders and fishers among them. One man I spot, an older man with a round head, completely bald. He is fitted in a long dark robe that reaches his ankles, bearing in one hand a long staff with a curved end.

‘Strange folk,’ I say. ‘Newcomers to Tenth Town, I think.’

He asks for the scope, and I oblige him, noticing a wide smile form as he looks through the lens. ‘Ah yes, I think I know the bald man, a priest. Korym he is called.’

‘Is that so?’ I ask, wondering where he came from.

‘We once got along not so well, he and I, but he is a good man,’ says the ranger with a chuckle. ‘Well, I am sure word spread and more came, especially after the night of pillage by the animal tokens.’

He gives me back the scope, covering his mouth as he yawns.

‘Oh, there they are!’ I say, waving as I look back through the scope and see the innkeepers come out through the hatch on the roof of the inn. Down there, Pruza pulls out his own scope, another one like the very one I carry in my hands.

‘I can see them a bit, Pruza and Meela,’ says the Challenger. He must have ranger eyes.

Meela is writing something on a square-shaped black thing, using white chalk to write: ‘We are sad to hear about Achalay.’

‘Oh yeah, Achalay,’ says the Challenger when I tell him what I read.

‘Next she says: Things have been hard down here… Town Master building walls… Making life harder… ’

‘How do people end up with such bad leaders?’ mutters the Challenger, shaking his head. ‘Can you see why I live alone?’

Reading what Meela is writing, I add: ‘But we have new friends… Folks who came here late… ’

With his puffy curls shining in the sunlight, Pruza smiles wide at me as Meela uses her hand to erase the latest message she wrote. Behind them, the younger fisher, Flexi, has emerged from the roof’s hatch. He speaks quickly to the innkeepers, both of whom begin to smile even wider and brighter than before.

Meela writes something: K’Nat is expected to recover.

I tell the Challenger and he smiles.

‘Must go below! Ura is here! See you again!’ I read aloud one last thing that she writes, then I wave as widely as I can, careful not to lose my balance on the ledge.

‘Let us be off,’ says the ranger, turning his back to the distant town and shore.

The Challenger, in possession of his sword once more, holds it aloft symbolically while in my hand I hold our light for this last leg of the quest, the light in my palm gifted me from the Ophus. I hope our combined power will be enough for this final leg of our journey.… 


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