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*tapping his fingers against the side of his throne...*
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S.Y. 311.3 (January
13, 2002) *he watched the events of the world. The rangers were having their party, little did they know Teboug,Zed, and Deidre were meeting swift demise at the hands of his drow and fallen angel. Somewhere in Britain, a play was being put on, the heroine using her shining sword to outwit the horrible troll. In yew, a girl took diamons from one love, only to go to another and take a string a saphires.* *The world rolled on* *the chuckling came in fits, tears streaming down his face. It was ironic, that so much danger was preparing to pounce. So much pain and death awaited, yet the heroine with her shining sword kept on dancing. The farmer, he still tilled his field, stopping to stare at the sun, a smile on his face. What gave them hope? Did he simply not grasp the depth of there courage, or did they not grasp the depth of there danger? Did any feel his eyes, cold with hatred, gazing on there innocent forms?* *And he couldnt help but wonder, looking twords the sky himself...*
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