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<blockquote data-quote="Lwaxy" data-source="post: 5737681" data-attributes="member: 53286"><p>Single player session with Mook the gnome to catch up on her fate after she split from the party. </p><p></p><p>--</p><p></p><p>Mook, however, had managed to get lost. After bouncing into this and that wall on her way out of the catacomb they had come though and almost falling over the pedestal in the crossroad room, she had finally managed to hang on to one sane thought – finding a wall and walking along it instead of into it. She was still rushing it though, and so it too her a moment to notice that she had taken a left turn and a right somewhere and water was splashing under her. In fact, her sturdy boots were already filled with water. Stopping, she gasped for air. There was no other sound but dripping water and her labored breaths, and cold was creeping up from her wet feet. And of course, it was totally dark. Her hands were resting on a wooden structure she recognized as a door. "I b-b-better t-t-turn b-back," she told herself, finding comfort in her own voice but getting exasperated at her stutter made worse by the cold and her fear. Unfortunately, she involuntarily increased the pressure of her hands and the door slowly opened into whatever lay behind. Reacting too slow in her surprise, Mook stumbled forwards and fell face first into the water. </p><p></p><p>A moment later, she heard something moving towards her, and then there was a loud croak. It definitely sounded like a frog. A dim green light came from somewhere. The room was filled with water, probably as deep as the outside corridor. The chamber was in an advanced state of decay, with a gaping hole in the ceiling admitting a constant trickle of water. This was also the source of the greenish light. The three stone sarcophagi in this room were almost completely covered in a thick carpet of moss and fungus. On the first sarcophagus, a giant frog was sitting. Mook, on her feet again, could feel the movements of the water – at least two creatures were swimming towards her. </p><p></p><p>"He-hello!" the gnome said, deciding that her ability to talk with animals would be a good chance to avoid any conflict. ""You m-may be hungry, but I a-assure you, I'm n-not a f-food s-s-source for you." Luckily, the animals would only hear the meaning of her words, and not her stutter. </p><p></p><p>Two more frogs came out of the water close to her, looking decidedly spooky in the green light. "You look fine to eat to us," one commented, definitely not used to being talked to by its dinner.</p><p></p><p>"W-what do y-you usually eat d-down here?" Mook wondered. "Y-you should kn-know that preying on two-legs is n-not usually h-healthy." No need to let them know she had little, if any, defense. </p><p></p><p>"Rats. Bugs. Spiders. Crawly things. Bad smelling two-legs made them all go away." The frog on the sarcophagus made it sound as if that was her fault.</p><p></p><p>"M-maybe you sh-should just go out of here, t-then?" Mook suggested. </p><p></p><p>"Can't jump so high," the frog replied, sounding sad. </p><p></p><p>Mook looked up and frowned at the hole in the ceiling. "This gg-goes to your old p-pond, n-no? M-maybe I can help you g-get out if -you don't eat me. W-would you l-like that?"</p><p></p><p>"You can't jump that high either, not with those legs you can't," one of the other frogs noticed. </p><p></p><p>"W-well no, but I c-can climb up o-on that thing a-and l-let you hop from m-my sh-shoulders. It m-might work. O-or I c-can just sh-show you an other exit, I g-guess." </p><p></p><p>"We do not want to go out of the water again. Last time we tried, smelly two-legs almost eat us," the frogs made clear. "You look sturdy, we will try."</p><p></p><p>With a little difficulty, Mook climbed up onto the sarcophagus in the middle, directly under the opening. She only fell back into the water twice. She felt decidedly silly with the frogs staring at her and was also worried they might decide to try gnome meat after all. But finally she was standing with legs wide and slightly bowed forward. "Hop to it," she told them. </p><p></p><p>A moment later there was a substantial weight on her shoulders, and another moment later, she felt pushed down to the stone as the frog jumped off of her. In vain she tried to hold on to the lid of the stone tomb, but once more she felt herself gliding under the water. As she came back up, however, there was a croaking sound which was definitely laughter. "I'm out, I'm out," the frog confirmed. </p><p></p><p>The other two frogs were closing in on her, and with a sigh, Mook climbed back up, this time not slipping. It took the next frog 4 tries to get out, and every time Mook fell off, once banging her chin on the lid. The last frog only took two tries. By the time the last one croaked thanks and goodbyes, she had enough of water and cold. Quickly, she cast her favorite spell for being out and about. Now the elements would not bother her anymore. </p><p></p><p>Her eyes darted around the room, noticing another door than the one she came in. This one was slightly ajar, revealing a long corridor with seemingly nothing else in it. For all the fear she had displayed earlier, her little adventure with the frogs and being rid of the wet cold made her a lot more bold all of a sudden. She made the somewhat foolish decision to move on. </p><p></p><p>The water was deeper in the corridor. The corridor turned right after a bit, and just when Mook remembered she had no light and should probably give up at this point – it was getting difficult to see something – a blueish electric discharge came from the room to her right, illuminating the corridor long enough for her to make out the opening to a larger room at its end. "Ugh, A-azure Fungus," she muttered to herself. She would avoid the room to the right, this sort of fungus was not pleasant to deal with and would discharge electric loads every few minutes. Mook had had an unfortunate encounter with a small one of this specimen only a few weeks ago and no intention to repeat it. At least there was little danger anything would come at her from there, she mused. </p><p></p><p>The end of the corridor was the end of the effect of the green light from the frog room. The water was deeper here yet and appeared to be a lot murkier. "I sh-should have listened t-to m-my grandm-mother," Mook admitted and decided to check her wet rucksack for anything useful in this situation. Her tiny spear, sling and sling stones and her water skin were the only things which seemed to be usable in wet conditions. Maybe she should keep the spear at hand now, anyway. She wasn't that good with it but if the frogs had stayed hostile, it would not have helped to carry it on her back. </p><p></p><p>Finally, she found a small linen pouch with some hard objects in it. All things, partly magical and partly mundane, her druid grandmother had given her for several name days. Most of the magic stuff was one use, fun trinkets, she had already used up some. Like the echo spells she had annoyed the council with at one of their recent meetings. Or the beans of bloating you added to any food to make people... well, stuff like the druidic marks on it. Her grandmother had told her to bounce any spell off it and it would make the spell last until dismissed or about an hour for each step she had taken in the initiations of her gnome clan. Unfortunately, she had only had the mind to do two of the initiation steps yet and no doubt, the pebble was meant to encourage her to be more diligent in her studies. However, grandma had mentioned a drawback, some side effects she did not want to mention the details of. "I'll kn-know, she s-said," Mook mumbled, her voice sounding spooky in the area. "M-maybe I should have t-tried it out b-before." But she had not, and she needed the light now. </p><p></p><p>With excitement and worry at the same time, Mook attempted the only spell she thought would make sense down here. Thanks to her stutter and nervousness, it took her 3 attempts before the spell bounced off the pebble, which glowed greenish for a moment. Then 4 dancing lights appeared as expected. However, they were not the usual color but also a light green. It fit the strange atmosphere, for sure, but it also felt wrong somehow. Mook wondered if that was the drawback, but if so, it was not much of one. </p><p></p><p>She had been taught from a young age that magic had personality, a signature, so to speak. Every spell worked a little different with every user. Her father's dancing lights, for example, had always just been two, but varied in size. Mook tried to remember if her grandmother's were green, but could not remember. More relaxed now, she let the lights flow into the room and had her first good look. </p><p></p><p>This large chamber was partially flooded, with the south end just barely rising out of the stagnant water. A large wheel was set into the floor of the dry area, attached to chains that rose up into the ceiling. A thick layer of slick, black mold covered the carvings on the walls of this chamber.</p><p></p><p>It smelled like the fungus, too. Better not to get submerged here, this was the sort of fungus probably causing skin irritations and breathing issues when inhaled too long. The young oracle put the pebble away and went deeper into the room and the water. The ground was trickery, slippery from some sort of growth, but she wanted to check out the wheel at the end. In the stories of her childhood, such devices usually opened secret doors to unimaginable riches. She would certainly not mind being rich. </p><p></p><p>With the lights gliding directly under the water surface, Mook was barely able to make out the floor. She did notice the two water filled pits though, flanking a bridge to the side with the wheel. Someone less good at swimming would probably have needed to secure themselves with a rope; however, Mook grew up at a pond and could swim before she could walk. With no need to hold a light source, the gnome girl just swam over, pushing the ideas of what else might be under the surface aside. There would be time to clean up later. </p><p></p><p>The gnome always fell backwards into the water trying to regain her footing on semi-dry ground. The rucksack was all heavy with water. She wished she knew a dry spell. But she made it this far, and no more frogs or undead in sight. </p><p></p><p>Right this moment, she could hear and feel something stirring in the water behind her. Mook froze for a moment, then she turned around to see 6 skeletons in tattered remains of clothes and gear make their way towards her. They were slow on unsteady ground, unable to swim, but they were making progress nonetheless. </p><p></p><p>Biting her lips and fighting back a renewed panic, the girl quickly went through her pouch and the small linen bag in her backpack. While doing so, her hands found one of the healing potions they had gotten from the mayor on their start of the journey. This brought back the lessons of her grandmother. Undead could be harmed with almost all magic which healed the living. She had no idea if this was true for the potions, too, but then, trying to hit a skeleton with enough potion to do anything would be about impossible for her, anyway. But her healing magic would work. There was only one problem. She would have to touch them, and she only could get some of them, not having enough magical power left for all. And two of them wielded rusty scimitars. Those were the last ones in the irregular row of undead approaching her. A plan formed in her mind. She would need to make it past the first two, however, and that would mean trying to destroying them, or at least bring them down to their single parts for now. </p><p></p><p>Later, Mook was not able to explain if it was mad heroism or a courage born of fear, but she dropped her backpack and lounged herself at the skeleton in the front, a good pace away from the following 5. When her hands contacted with the undead bones, she screamed out her spell and proceeded to roll into a ball before checking what it had done. The cold water engulfed her just behind her first foe, and she let herself sink under the water. Judging the position and speed of the next skeleton, she propelled herself at it with all the swimming speed her gnome body could muster and touched the bone legs of the next enemy. Casting spells under water was not new to her, and again she did not wait to see what the spell had done. Instead, she pushed on towards the left of the watery pits. </p><p></p><p>Whirling around and coming through the surface again, she noticed the skeletons in the dim light of the dancing lights she had left at the wheel in the wall. There was no sign of the two skeletons she had touched. Thinking about it made her shiver worse than the murky water. The other 4 had stopped and now shuffled back towards her as slow as before. </p><p></p><p>The gnome was out of breath. She was a fast swimmer on short distances only. Repeating her stunt with any of the others, especially those with the scimitars, would prove too dangerous. Instead, she swam back towards the moldy wall, hoping to draw them to her. From what she remembered, those abominations were likely to just follow their one need to harm the living and not particularly watch where they were going. </p><p></p><p>Her plan worked well enough. The two with the scimitars were now closest to her and the first to lose their footing where the pit started. Immediately, they sank to the murky depths of the room, weapons still clutched into bony hands. One other went over the edge of the bridge and began to sink when the last one suddenly stopped. </p><p></p><p>Mook had no intention to wait here long, who knew what else was lurking in the water. The element of surprise was gone; although she had no idea how much this thing in front of her actually understood of its surroundings. Taking a deep breath, the gnome went under water again, attempting to swim in a wide berth over the bridge to the other pit. She had to come up for breath short of her destination, for a moment gaining footage on the slippery bridge. The skeleton had turned around and was still following her. Again, she went under the surface, swimming close to the wall of the pit on the bridge side. It was hard to see anything despite her low light vision; the dancing lights only reflecting vaguely off the water surface and not reaching below. But she could see the undead thing bowing down to look for her. One of its feet was just a hand off her face. </p><p></p><p>With a quick grab, she held on to the thing's leg bone and rushed out her healing spell again, almost out of breath now. The skeleton crumbled around her, smoking bones dropping into the pit and onto the bridge. Pushing away the need to vomit, Mook heaved herself into the bridge and on her shaky legs and staggered back to the wheel and her backpack. Exhausted, she dropped to the ground, wishing herself dry of the dirty water and rid of the memory of what she had just done. If she could avoid it, she would not swim through that again – but that left only the large wheel and what it would open. </p><p></p><p>After what seem3ed like ages,. She had caught her breath again and stood up to face this next obstacle. The large wheel was actually set in the floor directly in front of the wall. Getting a hold on it, Mook checked to see which way it would turn. Clockwise, as it seemed, but the thing was somewhat rusty and jammed. Again taking deep breaths, the gnome put both hands on the wheel and pushed from the left. With a sickening screech, the contraption started to move, very slow first but then slightly faster. Finally, there was some resistance and Mook could push it no further. </p><p></p><p>Looking around, the gnome was badly disappointed. No other door had opened, not had anything else happened. "M-my luck, this thing is b-broken," she mumbled. There would be no helping it; she would have to go back the way she came. Maybe that was for the best, as she now remembered she was short one animal companion and a whole handful of friends.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lwaxy, post: 5737681, member: 53286"] Single player session with Mook the gnome to catch up on her fate after she split from the party. -- Mook, however, had managed to get lost. After bouncing into this and that wall on her way out of the catacomb they had come though and almost falling over the pedestal in the crossroad room, she had finally managed to hang on to one sane thought – finding a wall and walking along it instead of into it. She was still rushing it though, and so it too her a moment to notice that she had taken a left turn and a right somewhere and water was splashing under her. In fact, her sturdy boots were already filled with water. Stopping, she gasped for air. There was no other sound but dripping water and her labored breaths, and cold was creeping up from her wet feet. And of course, it was totally dark. Her hands were resting on a wooden structure she recognized as a door. "I b-b-better t-t-turn b-back," she told herself, finding comfort in her own voice but getting exasperated at her stutter made worse by the cold and her fear. Unfortunately, she involuntarily increased the pressure of her hands and the door slowly opened into whatever lay behind. Reacting too slow in her surprise, Mook stumbled forwards and fell face first into the water. A moment later, she heard something moving towards her, and then there was a loud croak. It definitely sounded like a frog. A dim green light came from somewhere. The room was filled with water, probably as deep as the outside corridor. The chamber was in an advanced state of decay, with a gaping hole in the ceiling admitting a constant trickle of water. This was also the source of the greenish light. The three stone sarcophagi in this room were almost completely covered in a thick carpet of moss and fungus. On the first sarcophagus, a giant frog was sitting. Mook, on her feet again, could feel the movements of the water – at least two creatures were swimming towards her. "He-hello!" the gnome said, deciding that her ability to talk with animals would be a good chance to avoid any conflict. ""You m-may be hungry, but I a-assure you, I'm n-not a f-food s-s-source for you." Luckily, the animals would only hear the meaning of her words, and not her stutter. Two more frogs came out of the water close to her, looking decidedly spooky in the green light. "You look fine to eat to us," one commented, definitely not used to being talked to by its dinner. "W-what do y-you usually eat d-down here?" Mook wondered. "Y-you should kn-know that preying on two-legs is n-not usually h-healthy." No need to let them know she had little, if any, defense. "Rats. Bugs. Spiders. Crawly things. Bad smelling two-legs made them all go away." The frog on the sarcophagus made it sound as if that was her fault. "M-maybe you sh-should just go out of here, t-then?" Mook suggested. "Can't jump so high," the frog replied, sounding sad. Mook looked up and frowned at the hole in the ceiling. "This gg-goes to your old p-pond, n-no? M-maybe I can help you g-get out if -you don't eat me. W-would you l-like that?" "You can't jump that high either, not with those legs you can't," one of the other frogs noticed. "W-well no, but I c-can climb up o-on that thing a-and l-let you hop from m-my sh-shoulders. It m-might work. O-or I c-can just sh-show you an other exit, I g-guess." "We do not want to go out of the water again. Last time we tried, smelly two-legs almost eat us," the frogs made clear. "You look sturdy, we will try." With a little difficulty, Mook climbed up onto the sarcophagus in the middle, directly under the opening. She only fell back into the water twice. She felt decidedly silly with the frogs staring at her and was also worried they might decide to try gnome meat after all. But finally she was standing with legs wide and slightly bowed forward. "Hop to it," she told them. A moment later there was a substantial weight on her shoulders, and another moment later, she felt pushed down to the stone as the frog jumped off of her. In vain she tried to hold on to the lid of the stone tomb, but once more she felt herself gliding under the water. As she came back up, however, there was a croaking sound which was definitely laughter. "I'm out, I'm out," the frog confirmed. The other two frogs were closing in on her, and with a sigh, Mook climbed back up, this time not slipping. It took the next frog 4 tries to get out, and every time Mook fell off, once banging her chin on the lid. The last frog only took two tries. By the time the last one croaked thanks and goodbyes, she had enough of water and cold. Quickly, she cast her favorite spell for being out and about. Now the elements would not bother her anymore. Her eyes darted around the room, noticing another door than the one she came in. This one was slightly ajar, revealing a long corridor with seemingly nothing else in it. For all the fear she had displayed earlier, her little adventure with the frogs and being rid of the wet cold made her a lot more bold all of a sudden. She made the somewhat foolish decision to move on. The water was deeper in the corridor. The corridor turned right after a bit, and just when Mook remembered she had no light and should probably give up at this point – it was getting difficult to see something – a blueish electric discharge came from the room to her right, illuminating the corridor long enough for her to make out the opening to a larger room at its end. "Ugh, A-azure Fungus," she muttered to herself. She would avoid the room to the right, this sort of fungus was not pleasant to deal with and would discharge electric loads every few minutes. Mook had had an unfortunate encounter with a small one of this specimen only a few weeks ago and no intention to repeat it. At least there was little danger anything would come at her from there, she mused. The end of the corridor was the end of the effect of the green light from the frog room. The water was deeper here yet and appeared to be a lot murkier. "I sh-should have listened t-to m-my grandm-mother," Mook admitted and decided to check her wet rucksack for anything useful in this situation. Her tiny spear, sling and sling stones and her water skin were the only things which seemed to be usable in wet conditions. Maybe she should keep the spear at hand now, anyway. She wasn't that good with it but if the frogs had stayed hostile, it would not have helped to carry it on her back. Finally, she found a small linen pouch with some hard objects in it. All things, partly magical and partly mundane, her druid grandmother had given her for several name days. Most of the magic stuff was one use, fun trinkets, she had already used up some. Like the echo spells she had annoyed the council with at one of their recent meetings. Or the beans of bloating you added to any food to make people... well, stuff like the druidic marks on it. Her grandmother had told her to bounce any spell off it and it would make the spell last until dismissed or about an hour for each step she had taken in the initiations of her gnome clan. Unfortunately, she had only had the mind to do two of the initiation steps yet and no doubt, the pebble was meant to encourage her to be more diligent in her studies. However, grandma had mentioned a drawback, some side effects she did not want to mention the details of. "I'll kn-know, she s-said," Mook mumbled, her voice sounding spooky in the area. "M-maybe I should have t-tried it out b-before." But she had not, and she needed the light now. With excitement and worry at the same time, Mook attempted the only spell she thought would make sense down here. Thanks to her stutter and nervousness, it took her 3 attempts before the spell bounced off the pebble, which glowed greenish for a moment. Then 4 dancing lights appeared as expected. However, they were not the usual color but also a light green. It fit the strange atmosphere, for sure, but it also felt wrong somehow. Mook wondered if that was the drawback, but if so, it was not much of one. She had been taught from a young age that magic had personality, a signature, so to speak. Every spell worked a little different with every user. Her father's dancing lights, for example, had always just been two, but varied in size. Mook tried to remember if her grandmother's were green, but could not remember. More relaxed now, she let the lights flow into the room and had her first good look. This large chamber was partially flooded, with the south end just barely rising out of the stagnant water. A large wheel was set into the floor of the dry area, attached to chains that rose up into the ceiling. A thick layer of slick, black mold covered the carvings on the walls of this chamber. It smelled like the fungus, too. Better not to get submerged here, this was the sort of fungus probably causing skin irritations and breathing issues when inhaled too long. The young oracle put the pebble away and went deeper into the room and the water. The ground was trickery, slippery from some sort of growth, but she wanted to check out the wheel at the end. In the stories of her childhood, such devices usually opened secret doors to unimaginable riches. She would certainly not mind being rich. With the lights gliding directly under the water surface, Mook was barely able to make out the floor. She did notice the two water filled pits though, flanking a bridge to the side with the wheel. Someone less good at swimming would probably have needed to secure themselves with a rope; however, Mook grew up at a pond and could swim before she could walk. With no need to hold a light source, the gnome girl just swam over, pushing the ideas of what else might be under the surface aside. There would be time to clean up later. The gnome always fell backwards into the water trying to regain her footing on semi-dry ground. The rucksack was all heavy with water. She wished she knew a dry spell. But she made it this far, and no more frogs or undead in sight. Right this moment, she could hear and feel something stirring in the water behind her. Mook froze for a moment, then she turned around to see 6 skeletons in tattered remains of clothes and gear make their way towards her. They were slow on unsteady ground, unable to swim, but they were making progress nonetheless. Biting her lips and fighting back a renewed panic, the girl quickly went through her pouch and the small linen bag in her backpack. While doing so, her hands found one of the healing potions they had gotten from the mayor on their start of the journey. This brought back the lessons of her grandmother. Undead could be harmed with almost all magic which healed the living. She had no idea if this was true for the potions, too, but then, trying to hit a skeleton with enough potion to do anything would be about impossible for her, anyway. But her healing magic would work. There was only one problem. She would have to touch them, and she only could get some of them, not having enough magical power left for all. And two of them wielded rusty scimitars. Those were the last ones in the irregular row of undead approaching her. A plan formed in her mind. She would need to make it past the first two, however, and that would mean trying to destroying them, or at least bring them down to their single parts for now. Later, Mook was not able to explain if it was mad heroism or a courage born of fear, but she dropped her backpack and lounged herself at the skeleton in the front, a good pace away from the following 5. When her hands contacted with the undead bones, she screamed out her spell and proceeded to roll into a ball before checking what it had done. The cold water engulfed her just behind her first foe, and she let herself sink under the water. Judging the position and speed of the next skeleton, she propelled herself at it with all the swimming speed her gnome body could muster and touched the bone legs of the next enemy. Casting spells under water was not new to her, and again she did not wait to see what the spell had done. Instead, she pushed on towards the left of the watery pits. Whirling around and coming through the surface again, she noticed the skeletons in the dim light of the dancing lights she had left at the wheel in the wall. There was no sign of the two skeletons she had touched. Thinking about it made her shiver worse than the murky water. The other 4 had stopped and now shuffled back towards her as slow as before. The gnome was out of breath. She was a fast swimmer on short distances only. Repeating her stunt with any of the others, especially those with the scimitars, would prove too dangerous. Instead, she swam back towards the moldy wall, hoping to draw them to her. From what she remembered, those abominations were likely to just follow their one need to harm the living and not particularly watch where they were going. Her plan worked well enough. The two with the scimitars were now closest to her and the first to lose their footing where the pit started. Immediately, they sank to the murky depths of the room, weapons still clutched into bony hands. One other went over the edge of the bridge and began to sink when the last one suddenly stopped. Mook had no intention to wait here long, who knew what else was lurking in the water. The element of surprise was gone; although she had no idea how much this thing in front of her actually understood of its surroundings. Taking a deep breath, the gnome went under water again, attempting to swim in a wide berth over the bridge to the other pit. She had to come up for breath short of her destination, for a moment gaining footage on the slippery bridge. The skeleton had turned around and was still following her. Again, she went under the surface, swimming close to the wall of the pit on the bridge side. It was hard to see anything despite her low light vision; the dancing lights only reflecting vaguely off the water surface and not reaching below. But she could see the undead thing bowing down to look for her. One of its feet was just a hand off her face. With a quick grab, she held on to the thing's leg bone and rushed out her healing spell again, almost out of breath now. The skeleton crumbled around her, smoking bones dropping into the pit and onto the bridge. Pushing away the need to vomit, Mook heaved herself into the bridge and on her shaky legs and staggered back to the wheel and her backpack. Exhausted, she dropped to the ground, wishing herself dry of the dirty water and rid of the memory of what she had just done. If she could avoid it, she would not swim through that again – but that left only the large wheel and what it would open. After what seem3ed like ages,. She had caught her breath again and stood up to face this next obstacle. The large wheel was actually set in the floor directly in front of the wall. Getting a hold on it, Mook checked to see which way it would turn. Clockwise, as it seemed, but the thing was somewhat rusty and jammed. Again taking deep breaths, the gnome put both hands on the wheel and pushed from the left. With a sickening screech, the contraption started to move, very slow first but then slightly faster. Finally, there was some resistance and Mook could push it no further. Looking around, the gnome was badly disappointed. No other door had opened, not had anything else happened. "M-my luck, this thing is b-broken," she mumbled. There would be no helping it; she would have to go back the way she came. Maybe that was for the best, as she now remembered she was short one animal companion and a whole handful of friends. [/QUOTE]
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