Everyone who I trusted in the field had spent year after
year honing their craft, except one.
The Swordswoman had spent a decade with her steel, making it
dance at her command.
The Mystic had spent thrice that studying the magicks, and
was able to alter reality without his brain consumed by demons.
The Disciple was constantly studying his texts to better
communicate with his deities, the Looter kept up with all the various locks and
then…
He couldn’t really fight, but if my back was against the
wall, he’d be who I’d choose to help.
His luck is amazing…
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