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Thread: Sisters of Tella (Original)

  1. #1
    This is my sin... Sisters of Tella (Original) Lucid's Avatar
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    Sisters of Tella (Original)

    (OOC: Just so you know, I'm terrible with intro posts and I didn't really know exactly what I wanted to write about and thus this crazy post was born. Yeah... XD

    Also, some of the lines sound a little funny, but I was getting so frustrated that I just went with what I had for now because I have a tendency to write things over about 20 times...plus Neko was getting on to me about hurrying up. T_T

    So...sorry if it kinda sucks! D: )

    ---------------------------------------------------------

    The full moon in the night sky illuminated the silent world below as Solas and his team patrolled the area on horseback. The orders they received days before were vague, but they had been instructed to intercept a carriage coming from Atarylis and execute everyone inside and bring back anything of importance. Solas hadn't been entirely thrilled at the prospect of having to leave the comfort of his warm bed on this cool, early Spring night, but he certainly wasn't going to ignore orders.

    Solas continued to scout out the area around the forest where the carriage would be coming through, stopping every now and then to listen for anything, but it had been eerily quiet for the most part. He shivered and pulled his cloak closer around him, noticing that the chilly air was so cold that he could see his breath. He tried thinking about something else in order to get his mind off of the cold, but with the silence, it was easy to get lost in thought.

    He started to think about all the strange incidents that had been occuring lately. Ever since the earthquakes started, there had been an uneasiness in everyone, especially since the Blessed One had fallen ill. How could one blessed by the gods fall ill, Solas scoffed. He despised those people who worshipped and put their faith into the Blessed One as if they were gods, when in fact, they were mortals just like everyone else. It seemed as though many of the problems in the land were because of the Blessed One, so why couldn't anyone else see it?

    His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the telltale sound of hoofbeats coming up the road towards him and he signaled his men to move into position while he took his hiding spot behind the trees as he waited for the carriage to draw closer. Right away he could tell something was wrong since the carriage was now being escorted by six armed men on horseback. From what he understood, this carriage was supposed have been unguarded, so this complicated things a bit, especially with the possibility that their plans had been revealed...meaning someone on his team was a traitor.

    With a quick and fluid motion, Solas nocked an arrow and aimed at the driver as the carriage approached, but before he could fire it, the horses suddenly reared in fear. This alarmed the driver and he immediately forced the horses to speed up in order to swiftly exit the forest.

    "Damn it! What are those fools doing down there?" Solas cursed, nudging his horse into a gallop as he raced after the carriage. When he finally caught up, he readied his bow once again and shot the driver in the chest. Even as the driver slumped over in the seat, the horses continued to race down the road.

    By this time the men had horseback had noticed him and three of them started towards him while the others chased after the runaway carriage. Solas turned and fired an arrow at the man closest to him, striking him directly in the right eye, killing him instantly.

    The second man pulled a crossbow from the harness on his back and quickly loaded it then tried to shoot at Solas, but his aim was off because of the rough terrain and he ended up shooting the horse in the hind leg instead. Once the bolt had struck the horse, it faltered and went down, throwing Solas roughly to the ground where he rolled several feet before stopping on a bed of moss. The horse was able to get up on it's own, but as soon as it was back on it's feet, it ran off, leaving Solas behind.

    Solas slowly stood, rubbing his left arm as the two men approached him. He was in a bit of pain from of the fall, but he was still able to fight, so he pulled out his sword as one of the men dismounted and came after him with his sword drawn.

    The man with the crossbow was about to load another bolt when Toban came crashing through the bushes, causing the bowman's horse to buck in fear and throw the man off. Toban jumped down to deal with him while Solas took care of the swordsman.

    "Thanks," Solas said flatly to Toban as he continued fighting with the guard.

    "You're welcome, Your Majesty," Toban replied in jest since he knew what type of personality Solas had.

    After they had dispatched the men, Solas and Toban returned to the road where his other two men were waiting by the captured carriage. They informed him that they had taken care of the other three guards, so Solas instructed them to cautiously check the carriage to make sure their were no guards inside. When Garrett looked inside, he made an interesting discovery and they all turned when they heard a female scream.

    "Look what I found!" Garrett said as he pulled a young, winged woman from the carriage.

    "A Fae?" Solas said in complete disgust.

    "Unhand me you rogues! I demand to be released!" the girl yelled at her captors. "The council will hear of this!"

    "Your council is the cause of all of our problems," Solas replied with contempt, turning away. "Get rid of her."

    "I know we were told to kill everyone, but they never said we couldn't have a little fun first..." Garrett said as he tried to kiss the girl, but she suddenly turned on him, kicking him between the legs before breaking free and running off towards the woods. Two of his men, Kent and Jas, started to run after her, but Toban stayed behind to help Garrett. The ungrateful lout angrily refused any help however, choosing to curse at his friend instead before screaming at the girl.

    "You wench!" Garrett screamed as he rolled on the ground in pain. "When I'm done with you, you'll wish I had killed you!"

    Solas snickered in amusement as Garrett's outburst, watching as the two finally caught the girl and brought her back. Jas was intent on having his way with her, but Solas had just about all he could take today and wanted nothing more than to hurry up and get back home. He tried to ignore the girl's pitiful cries, but the truth was that she had reminded him a bit of Estella, and he never wanted to imagine her in such a situation.

    "Enough!" he finally yelled, drawing his sword as he pulled Jas off of the crying girl, then kneeled down next to her.

    "Please don't kill me..." the girl cried, but Solas had no pity for Fae and quickly plunged his blade through her chest.

    "Why..." she said whispered as he withdrew his sword. "Why do you forsake your own kind..."

    Solas was a little shocked by what the dying girl had said, but he didn't want to think about it. The though of him being a Fae was just ridiculous and there was no way it could be possible. He was feeling a bit tired, so perhaps he had just imagined her saying that. Yes, that was all. Just his imagination. He finally dismissed the thought and proceeded to wipe the blood of his blade with the girl's dress before rising to his feet and sheathing his sword.

    Toban informed him that he had searched the carriage and found a small box hidden inside, but Solas refused to open the ornate box. He would wait and let General Radim do that.

    ***************

    It was well after midnight when the team finally arrived back at the castle and they were all extremely tired, but Solas had to report to the general with his findings.

    He walked down the long hallway towards the general's office and knocked on the door to make sure he was inside, then entered once he heard a response. The general was sitting at his desk, writing by candlelight, but stopped what he was doing and looked up as Solas approached his desk.

    "General Radim, sir--" Solas started, but was suddenly cut off.

    "Enough with the formalities, Solas," Radim said, raising his hand to silence him. "We've known each other for years now, and yet it's as if you still see me as a total stranger. I thought we were much closer than that. Why, I still remember when you first arrived here and how you were trying so hard to impress me," Radim chuckled in amusement. "How you caught my eye with that look of spirited defiance when you told me that you were willing to do anything to gain your freedom... You were just the kind of person I had been looking for."

    "Yes si...er, Radim," Solas quickly corrected himself.

    "So what do you have to report?" Radim then asked.

    "Well, I just wanted to inform you that the mission was successful, and that I took care of everything just like you instructed. This was also retrieved from the carriage," Solas said as he sat the ornate box on Radim's desk. "However, I regret to inform you that we may have a traitor on our hands. I say this because you mentioned before that the carriage was supposed to be unguarded, but when it finally arrived, it was being guarded by six armed men on horseback."

    "I knew I could count on you with this mission, despite the setbacks," Radim said, placing his hands on the box as if it were something precious. "And I trust you will take care of that little problem then?"

    "Certainly," Solas replied. "But it will have to wait until morning because my bed is calling for me."

    "By all means," Radim said, dismissing him.

    Solas then gave a slight bow and left the office, continuing down the hall to his own room to finally get some sleep.
    Last edited by Lucid; 03-10-2008 at 04:47 PM.

  2. #2
    Professional Klutz. Sisters of Tella (Original) Hyzenthlay's Avatar
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    (OoC: I liked your post Lucid.)

    -----o0o-----

    The night wind whipped around the desolate streets. A cresent moon lit the scene giving everything a silvery hue giving it the feel of a black and white photograph. The air was wet and the faint smell of fresh grass wafted in from the southern plains. The night was quiet, no question, but a malevolent air hung all around non-the-less. Even since the recent earthquakes the people seemed to head indoors earlier and earlier each night leaving the town almost deserted. And on the steps of a grand cathedral dedicated to the godess Ishtara sat a young girl. Her hair blowing from an easterly breeze.

    Elizabeth Elkess had been alone on these streets for days. She had become quite accustomed to being left to her solitude at night. It gave her time to practise her magic. The magic she chose was usually based on her mood yet, lately and due to the harsh nature of the weather, she had taken a particular interest in fire magic. She wasn't up on the name of it and simply called it "pyros" that was what her mother had always referred to it as. She opened her left laying it flat on her knee and tapping her toes against the step below. A small flame danced on her palm, she smiled down at it and it illuminated her eye's making them seem a beautiful shade of emerald. The flame grew in size before blowing away and turning to smoke. Elizabeth clapped her hands together and smiled, squinting with joy. Her wings fluttered sending a black-tipped white feather off on the breeze, beside the smoke.

    She stood up and straightened the dress she had been given just days before by her father. She had a spare change of clothes in her satchel which hung at her side, a pearly white tunic embroided with golden trims of leaves. A present for her 8th birthday, made by her mother. Also within this satchel sat scribbled notes on various spells taught by her father. In her hair sat her most treasured posession; a hair clip used to decorate her at the right side of her forehead at her parting.

    Elizabeth suddenly felt the sting of the cold night air. No number of days can prepare you for sleeping on the streets and it had never occured to her that she would have to, even when she lost her father in the crowds of a busy market. The dress she wore had no arms and she felt every stab of the night air, she needed to find shelter for the night. She could continue practising there too. The last place she had stayed was out of the question as, just the night before, a drunken human had spat at her and aimed a kick but missed. She got this from time to time, along with names such as "winged-demon" and the likes. She never fully understood what they were talking about but decided it best to steer clear anyway, just in case.

    The looming prospect of having to sleep on the pavement washed over her like a wave. She never felt fear, as such, just alone. It was definitely unknown to her to not have anyone, after all, she was only 10 years of age and had always had at least her father to tuck her into bed at night. Still, she found the freedom refreshing and seldom regretted being on her own. She rubbed her hands together to warm them up. As she walked she began thinking through the books she had read about adventures and wondering if her story. was good enough to be written about. She took a left at the old library and saw a wide doorway across the street, the perfect resting point. She crossed over and felt herself shiver though not from the weather. A strange feeling crashed into her head like a train and she knew exactly what it was; somebody was watching her. She span around and her head flew from left to right, her eye's examining every alley, every corner. What she assumed was a man was stood at the corner which she had just come round. He watched her for a few seconds and then about turned and marched off back down the way he had come.

    She was certain it was the same man from the night before but his behaviour told her otherwise. In any case she slowly turned back to the doorway. She had gathered a picture of the shadowed figure in her mind but strangely had added long, bat-like wings to him. She smiled at her own imagination and as she reached the doorway she again opened her palm. An orange flame stood once again in her hand, it's glow making the inside of the doorway glow. She sat down against the left wall with her legs stretched out, closing her palm around the flame she lay her head back to rest. Her mind wandered to thoughts of her father, had he left Atarylis and gone back to their house? She doubted it and she dearly missed his company. Yet, she didnt want him to find her, not yet. It was endearing to be fighting for herself for once, even at her age. And she was sick of being called 'child', she was much smarter than half the grown-up she had met so why treat her like a stupid, spoiled brat?
    "Excuse me, young lady. Should you really be sitting around in the dark at this hour?"

    Elizabeths heart raced and she stood up turning to find the sorce of the voice. She calmed when she saw the figure before her. A small, ageing and balding human stood before her with a grin on his face. It was the man who her father and her had met at the museum of history her in Atarylis, the curator, Mr Milton. Elizabeth put her hand to her chest, closed her eyes and laughed smiling wildly.

    "Oh, Mr Milton. You gave me a fright. I thought you were that man back to kick me" she opened her eye's and looked at him from the darkness.

    The smile dropped from his face, "oh, and what man might this be?".

    "I'm, i'm not sure. He didn't like my wings"

    "Ah" he said nodding his head, "one of those fellows, is he? Well never you mind what that sort of riff-raff has to say. There are people like that everywhere, it pains me to say" his smile returned.

    "Now, why are you sat here alone? Where is your father?" he continued.

    "I'm not entirely sure" replied Elizabeth, "we were seperated about a week ago. I havn't been able to find him, not through lack of trying" she lied.

    "I see. Well, we'll find him in the morning shall we? For tonight you may stay in my home. I won't have you staying out alone, dark times looming and all".

    He held out his hand for her to take but she refused instead walking beside him down the street. Mr Milton was chatting about elixirs and ancient spells. This would usually have had Elizabeths full attention but for now it was elsewhere. The figure she had seen not 10 minutes ago was back, this time he was stood across the street from them watching as they walked by. Though her mind raced with terrified thoughts she didn't utter a word about it. After all, what if she were simply being silly?

    Mr Miltons house was not far away at all, in fact it was just 3 streets away. It's grand windows glistened in the glare of the moonlight, it had an air of sophistication the likes of which Elizabeth had never seen before. As she walked in her thoughts were doubled. Fine oaken furnature lined the walls and more books than even Elizabeth had ever seen. She was truly at awe, a grand chrystal chandlier hung magestically from the ceiling. For a second she wondered how on earth he could afford such grandeur. She snapped out from a trance to see Mr Milton smiling down at her and realised she had just been grinning like a crazy woman. She blushed and looked away putting her hand to her mouth. Mr Milton clasped his hands together still smiling.

    "You'll be staying in my daughters room. Don't worry, she's much to old to use it now so you are quite welcome. It's just up the stairs and first door to the right. You can't miss it. Tea? I'll make tea, you must be cold" with that he scurried off through double doors to the right.

    Elizabeth moved her hair from her eye's and stuck her right thumb in her mouth sucking softly. This was a habbit her father had said many times will ruin her teeth but she paid no attention. The doorway seemed to be her comfort zone at the moment. She felt that, if she moved, she may break all the pretty things around her and so stood still, frozen to the spot.
    Last edited by Hyzenthlay; 03-07-2008 at 04:19 PM.

  3. #3
    The cold night was like nothing to the animals of the wood. A burly buck elk stood in a clearing, eating some green plant. His head cocks up and so do his ears; he looks around, his eyes wide-open. From a yard away, the ground begins to move as the skilled ranger rises from his hidding place, an arrow already drawn back in his bow. Theis eyes meet and the half-elf sees inside the buck.

    A smaller elk prances up to the buck, the half-elf doesn't have the heart to do it and lowers his bow. The buck slowly approaches him, wary of his presence. The half-elf slowly raises his arm to reach the buck. The elk's strong head connects with the man's hand. The half-elf gently moves his hand up and down the elk's head, the elk snorts as if in thanks and then prances back to the doe. They both prance of into the treeline.

    The ranger's falcon swoops down and lands on his outstretched forearm. The half-elf grabs the falcon's beack with his pointer and thumb and inspects the falcon.

    "Well, my friend, looks like you managed to get some food." He remarks about the blood on the beak. "Looks like we'll have to go into town, unfortunately." His voice trails of at the last part. The falcon cries in agreement.

    The green cloaked half-elf Ranger enter the town's tavern. The patrons glance at him for a moment but then go back to their own conversations. The half-elf pulls the hood over his face even more. He approaches the bar and sits down. The bartender greets him. "Cold night, eh stranger?"

    The half-elf responds plainly. "Indeed."

    The bartender clears his throat and asks another question. "What'll it be strainger? I don't have all night."

    The half-elf reaches into his bag and pulls out a few coins. "I'll have a shot of ale and a room."

    The bartender greedily swips the coins from the Ranger and checks their authenticity. He then turns around and grabs a small glass and pours some ale into it. He places the shot in front of the ranger and speaks again. "Just tell me when you are ready, stranger and I'll show you to your room."

    The half-elf gulps the ale and asks for another.

  4. #4
    Alex always prefered the dark to the illuminating light of Noon. However today, he felt as if he was recharging from a long nights insomnia and euthanasia, allowing the kind sun to warm him through the travelled forest path, pine needles coating the air and ground with a welcoming scent. 'Today', he thought, 'Is a good day'. He was thoroughly contented by the larksome song of sparrows overhead, and for no apparent reason begin to sing. His voice followed the wonderous titilations of the birds, rolling around his mouth and attracting much attention from the wildlife. He also noticed the trees groaning quiet praise, their spirits lifted by the harmony that escaped his lips. Suddenly, he broke into a skip, his wings flittering as a breeze began an insistant impulse to be in the air, soaring. His pace quickened as he skipped and danced in the air, his song jittering from genre to genre, finally becoming a mix of excitable tunes as he jumped mid skip, raising up into the air a little more. A laugh like response was heard from above, as the birds began to swoop down to greet him. Another skip and a jump, a little further in the air. This time he ran at full speed, leaving behind the birds as his wings took full flight and he leapt above the trees, gliding gracefully. His song cresendoed, becoming long and pure. He felt the warm air rushing through him, washing away those horrible memories. Blood, bone and flesh. He felt it leave him, and suddenly he was back there. That place. The one with no comfort, no warmth, no light. The place that drew the very essence from within him. The grip of that hollow emotion washed over him, building and building. He faltered, falling into the dense, pointed treetops, a cut here, a bruise there. But his mind was on the feeling, and as he fell to the floor, his light clothing giving no help, his head hit upon a log and his afternoons endeavours were cleaned away, back to the dark place,the one that held his soul close to corruption. His Fathers death.

    A quiet noise tapped softly, almost melancholy. It drifted, then came again, stronger, urging, almost depserate. Alex opened his eyes. A shadow ultimately covered everything, and the bright cheerful sun had turned gloomy and low. It had turned to dusk. His head ached softly and felt wet. He shook as he leaned himself upright, noticing a single cloud, fast moving a holding witin its centre a deep blue tinge. He smiled.

    "Thank You" he croaked, massaging his neck softly and coughing. He touched his head. he was bleeding. 'Great', he thought, and instantly went to work. With a single word in Fae, meaning 'To Heal', a cold white light grew strongly from his hand. He held it over his head gingerly, wincing slightly as his skin resealed. Once he had finished he reached down to the small knapsack on his belt and ripped a small chunk of bread that had been given to him in the pervious town he had walked through. His thoughts turned to the day before. He shivered. Perhaps for the fact that it had grown colder, or becasue he had broken someones legs. He felt bad about doing it. 'Such punishment is never required', his Father would say. But he was dead, what did he know? He winced slightly at this thought, and took it back quickly. At least the village was grateful. The man who he had punished was awful, throwing his weight about with his small group of riff-raff. They would waltz into the market, taking things they wanted, beating the sellers half to death if they refused, dishonouring the women, gambling. 'Its enough to make an honest citizen sick', he thought, triumphantly chomply on half of his remaining bread. A rustle caught his attention, his eyes diverted, his right eye turning a luminescent green. His free hand slipped slightly above his knapsack, unsheathing and throwing his small blade into the shadow. A painful cry sounded out. But laex already knew they were there. They, being 4 men. One, slightly impaled by his attack, Two, standing above him and slightly to the left in a hidden tree, Three, directly behind him, thinking he was rather intelligent for sneaking up on him, and the fourth decided not to hide and stepped out from behind a tree directly in front of him.

    Alex laughed. "So this is what you were trying to warn me about", he chuckled, looking up at the sky. However, it was clear. He looked down upon the man, a short, well built man who didnt seem to understand the processes of bathing. Normally something like this would amuse him, but the uniform he was wearing did not. It was black, with silver trimmings, and small pieces of chainmail could be seen. Assassins. Alex rose, flexing his wings defiantly. They ached somewhat from the fall and he cursed his stupidity from not healing them. But, Good prevails. He heard a harsh grunt and a scrape of steel. His blade had been removed from the shoulder it had once lingered in, and this was enough. he eyed the man, noticing that the dirt may have been caused by chasing him. 'Pity', he thought, 'Why did they think they could catch me.' His hand moved to his knapsack once again, however the men reacted, one frm behind leapt from behind the tree, a knife thrust forward. Alex side stepped and pushed on his arm, breaking it, a sharp cry broke from his lips and turned to a gargle as his own knife ripped through his neck. A whistling array of throwing weapons sped towards him from above. Alex gracefully glided upwards in a flurry of wings, twisting and kicking out from the tree, backflipping onto the other he kicked the other man off. His head lay in an unpleasant manner. The man who used to be directly in front of him was now running to the left where the already injured man was hiding, or so he thought. Silently, Alex shadowed him from above, then dropped to break his neck. One left, and with one of most prized possesions. Alex felt sympathy towards him, as he could feel the terror in his heart. With a gesture, frosted needles appeared from his hand and met the mans head. He fell to the ground, still holding the knife. Once Alex had arrived, he was dead, and the blade sheathed back into its normal crossed positon with its sister. Alex looked down at the man with sad eyes, his right one turning a solemn purple.

    "I apologize"

    He took a deep breath in at the air, dusting off his deep gray uniform, positioned his low collar and took off into the air, leeaping sideways from the trees in no particular direction.
    Last edited by ~WP-Night; 03-07-2008 at 12:02 PM.

  5. #5
    It was a bright day. The air was full of sea's salty scent as usual. Children played along the beach, chasing each other and looking for small crabs, fishes and other edible sea creatures for dinner. Their mothers watched them as they cleaned up the greasy jugs, spinning new fishing nets and fixing the torn up nets. The men were at sea, part of them are fishing, and the rest are diving beneath huge coral riffs for pearls which will be sold to the passing by merchants.

    Yannara smiled to herself and stroked her growing up belly. Only two months left for her and Aaron's child to be born. Her hands were swollen and she lost her fine figure but she was happy to have such a caring husband, and soon a baby. She was already planning their future, the years they'll spend together, raising their beloved child. Yannara hopped to gave a birth to a healthy boy, she have always wanted a boy.

    It could just a peaceful, sunny day. It could be another mundane day in their lives. But it wasn't. None expected a heavy rain to wet the golden land all of the sudden. None thought that a rain could smell like sadness as it drops down, each drop is shining as a pearl. A sparkling rain washed the peace away, seeding panic in hearts of the villagers. Screams of terror shook the air in time scared figures of running in panic people resembled more frightened flock then human beings.

    Children squealed in fear, mothers yelped for their families to gather in a desperate attempt to hide in their fragile houses. Their movements became slower as if red drops took away any ability to move and to think straight. The stronger it fell down, the less will to run remained in their confused minds. The young surrender first, their small bodies fall on their knees in a mute gesture of defeat. Their mothers very soon followed their example. None was able to fight the freezing effect of the magical rain. The screams of fear vanished slowly. The weakened people stayed where they fell, staring at the floor without understanding what was going on. Their instinct to hide was stopped by a willpower which was stronger then their.

    Calm steps could be heard in that unnatural silence of beating hearts. Those steps belonged to a silver haired man clad in black. The stranger showed no emotion as he passed through the frozen forms of children and women. He simply watched them. None can escape now.

    The male stopped next to terrified Yannara and kneeled to face her. She dared to raise her eyes at him, scared like never was before. No doubt, his features were beautiful; his dark pupils were like two endless abysses when he examined her with a great interest. Yannara found herself lost in those deep eyes. She tried to ask him who he was but her mouth simply refused to act.

    "Is it your first child?" the man surprised her. Yannara slightly cracked her neck to agree. She couldn't resist to those eyes, to this soft voice. He smiled at her and reached out for her belly. A weak shudder passed through her body when she felt his oh so cold fingers against her warm stomach. "It pleases me.."he whispered into her ear "to take such an innocent life..even two lives..". Yannara wanted to scream, to beg for his mercy yet she couldn't. All she could do is to feel the necromancer draining her child's life. Her body twitched in pain in time the twielf kept liching both her and her unborn son's energy. Opening mouth in a silent agony, Yannara rolled her eyes. She was dying slowly and very painfully. Her once young, full of life body was now shrinking, drying up. Opposite to her, the necromancer enjoyed the process. His tanned face accepted an expression of pleasure, almost ecstasy. He drank her sweet life juices hungrily, till the end.

    The necromancer allowed the mummified body to fall. He chose to ignore the eternal scream on face of what once was a lovely, young woman and stood up. His calm eyes examined the rest of the spirit broken villagers whom he'll use for his goals. They were no more then a primitive sheep for him, born only to be used by stronger. Their blood will be used for certain rituals and their bodies will join his growing army..after a few transformations. A new day to sow chaos across those sleepy lands.

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