Bowing curtly, the great wolf left the dragons to their celebration. Skool followed the crystal spring whose green-blue waters flowed through the deep valley. His keen maize eyes watched the minions of Death go about their business. They kept busy harvesting the souls of the newly departed. Each servant hung shimmering globes on an eternally expanding row of vines and bushes. Skool studied every sphere and the soul it contained. The wolf knew well the shimmering hues of Death and its goddess…
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