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Post by Norion on Mar 30, 2010 22:17:41 GMT -8
Nestled in the center of Larin was a small settlement inhabited by mostly humans, a few elves here and there. Build from the ground up out of what little trees you could find in Larin, these people did their best to live a peaceful life without conflict. If bandits showed up, they would give them what they wanted. Was a human life really worth sacrificing for a few wild boar? They didn't think so.
Sitting in the tavern of the settlement was a young man with a purpose. Across his back was slung a recurved bow, and at his waist was a quiver of arrows. The bow was made of oak, strung tightly as to allow a deeper draw and a more forceful shot. The arrows themselves were of elvish make, designed for smooth flight and easy penetration of armor.
His spear was sitting next to him on the bench. The shaft was made of a light metal, providing increased durability while allowing a lighter weight. The pommel and base of the spear head were gold and intricate while the blade itself was classic and sharp. a thin rope extended from the top of the 6 foot shaft to the base, which allowed him to string it across his back, either over/beneath his bow.
"Would you like some more, sir?" asked the bar-maid from over his shoulder. She was curvy, blonde, and nothing he hadn't already seen.
"Yes, please. I'm expecting a few guests, so fill the table."
He had sent a call out across the land for worthy adventurers to meet him here. If they were able to safely travel here, then they would be good enough for him. Deus had plans to travel into the Jimroar mountains. He had heard rumors of an abandoned Dwarven settlement deep within the mountains, and he intended to claim whatever it was they left there.
He ran his hand through his light blue hair. It ran in his family, from his father's side he thought. Deus didn't remember. He also didn't care. He had made his fortune without his family, and didn't feel the need to ever have one. Hopefully the people who showed up today weren't to clingy.
He might have to kill them if they were
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lotus
Survivor
[M:600]
Posts: 8
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Post by lotus on Mar 30, 2010 22:45:48 GMT -8
‘This looks like the right place,’ Merriot thought, her eyes focused on the tavern that loomed in front of her. A while back she had heard of a man that wanted to meet brave adventurers here for some kind of quest. They may have just been rumors, but it had immediately sparked Merriot’s interest as soon as she had heard about it.
As interesting as a group of adventurers questing for great wealth was, Merriot had actually been drawn here for a different reason. These rumors had spread all over the place and were sure to attract many people. If the girl was lucky, she might even be able to find... him.
It had almost been a year since the disappearance of her mentor and dearest friend, Elwin. He had always been after a good challenge ever since Merriot had first met him while she was a child. Age hadn't changed him one bit. Maybe Elwin had heard of the rumors and would be making his way here as well. The chances may have been slim, but Merriot couldn't pass up an opportunity like this.
Merriot took a deep breath before finally stepping inside of the tavern. Her ears were assaulted by the loud, boisterous laughter of the tavern’s occupants. Most of the patrons were obviously drunk. There were a few of them that looked sober enough to be the one she was supposed to be meeting. A blue haired man sitting alone at a table grabbed at her attention. Perhaps he was the one? Merriot wasn’t sure though, so she decided to stand in the corner and watch the rest of the tavern carefully.
Something had been eating at her mind ever since she walked in. There weren’t any large groups of adventurers. Surely she hadn’t been the only one to hear of the rumors, right? ‘Does that mean that I’m the first one here?’ she wondered while continuing to act as an onlooker.
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Post by Norion on Mar 30, 2010 23:03:04 GMT -8
The door opened and closed more times than he could count, and the sound of shoe less feet against a dirt floor was white noise. Deus could hardly form a complete thought between the yelling, swearing, and overall drunken aura of the tavern. But then, a noise stood out from the crowd. It sounded like... shoes. Actual shoes. The dull thud was softer, and yet more distinct at the same time. Deus turned his head, and he saw what it was that caught his ears' attention.
She seemed to stand at about 5'3'', 8 inches shorter than Deus' 5'11''. Her sandy blonde hair accented her green eyes amazingly well, and her tight fitting pink shirt didn't leave much to the imagination. Her cape flowed in tune with the breeze that entered through the door, along with with the open sleeves of her shirt. And the sword solidified his assumption. She had heard his call to arms.
He motioned at her, and wondered if he had added "gorgeous" in the requirements for this team he was forming.
"Miss, I believe I am the man you are looking for. Please, sit." he said with that same charming smile that would inevitably make tonight's drinks free.
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lotus
Survivor
[M:600]
Posts: 8
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Post by lotus on Mar 30, 2010 23:29:38 GMT -8
Merriot continued to stare into the crowd until she caught the blue haired man she noticed earlier motioning in her direction. ‘So it WAS him,’ Merriot thought after he had spoken to her. Upon getting a better look at him, the girl saw that he was clad in armor with a bow slung over his shoulder. He also had a spear, which looked like it would cost more than Merriot could ever hope to afford. He had the air of a noble about him. The man’s smile was inviting, and she moved to sit at his table after giving him a nod.
“You are the one who was calling for adventurers, correct?” Merriot asked after a long pause. Interacting with others was still a bit unnerving for her. After the incident with the bandits, she had mostly stayed away from civilization. Though, she would have to get over her shyness if she ever expected to get any answers as to what happened.
While Merriot waited for an answer from her supposed employer, she took a small sip of the drink that was in front of her. Her eyes continued to scan the tavern. She was still clinging to the thought that she might see a familiar face walk through that door.
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Post by Norion on Mar 30, 2010 23:39:44 GMT -8
As she sat down, Deus could get a clearer look at her face. Her features were quite soft... not the look of a fighter. But she didn't carry herself like a school girl. She had a somewhat shy air about her, but she also seemed confident. The way she walked, the fact that she hadn't spoken to him yet... hes, it must have been a mixture of shyness and... something else. Was it a hint of naivety that he saw in her? Hm... he didn't quite know what to think about the pretty little girl who sat across from him. Interesting.
As she asked him her question, he took a drink of the ale. It was stale and tasteless but it would give him the buzz that he enjoyed. He tipped his head to one side after setting the mug down, and met her gaze with his own. Her green eyes were more intrancing in person then they were from across the room. He brought his head straight again, and squinted ever so slightly as he leaned in. He took another sip of his drink as he continued to analyze her posture, every little movement she made, and everything she did. The mind can only hide so much before it sends clues through the body... the so far, she didn't seem interested in him. What a pity.
"Yes, I am. My name is Deus Bonaparte. You can call me Deus, Bones, sweetie... whatever you like. And you are?" he asked coyly as he stuck his hand towards her, offering it as a sign of respect. Maybe once she got some ale in her she would loosen up a bit.
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lotus
Survivor
[M:600]
Posts: 8
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Post by lotus on Mar 30, 2010 23:59:56 GMT -8
Merriot forced herself to tear her eyes away from the rest of the tavern and focus on the man in front of her. As eager as she was to see if Elwin would show up, she didn’t want to be rude. Staring at the door wouldn’t improve the odds of him making an appearance.
The girl slowly reached her hand across the table and placed it in his. “I’m Merriot Galvire of Ellrit; please call me Merriot. It is a pleasure to meet you Deus,” she introduced herself. A small smile crept across her face.
Deus didn’t seem like a bad person. All she had to do was fight back her shyness and she should be just fine. Though, there was something about him that seemed a little off. Something intimidating about him. ‘I’m sure I’m just being paranoid again,’ Merriot thought while taking another small sip of her drink.
She didn’t really enjoy alcohol to be perfectly honest. It didn’t taste horrible, just not a taste she really liked. The only reason she drank it was because of something that Elwin had always insisted on hammering into her mind while they were traveling. The one thing you should NEVER do is refuse a client’s hospitality.
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Post by Norion on Mar 31, 2010 9:52:58 GMT -8
So formal with the introductions... aw, shit. She called him Deus. Obviously Merriot wasn't interested in him, and this was strictly business. Deus didn't quite know what to do... he had never been shut down like that before. Normally it was coy laughter and cool comments before they headed out of the tavern, but this was just not normal. Maybe she was all work and no play. Or, quite possibly, she was still just really, really shy. Deus didn't really care at the moment. If she wanted to be business, he could be business. He shifted his weight in his chair after shaking her hand, and took another long draw from his mug. At least she was a drinker. She got a bonus point for that.
He sat straighter on the bench as he began to speak again. "Merriot, I'll be quite honest. You don't look like the kind of adventurer that I would have expected to show up here. Not that you're bad, or anything. Just different. And being different is never a bad thing. Now, I won't get started with the real details until more people show up because I hate repeating myself. So, Merriot... tell me about yourself."
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lotus
Survivor
[M:600]
Posts: 8
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Post by lotus on Mar 31, 2010 10:41:07 GMT -8
If Merriot had any idea about romance she would probably be putty in Deus’s hands by now. The girl was completely clueless about the subject. She had always been too busy with her training to notice any of the boys in Ellrit when she was younger, and she never stayed in one place long enough to develop such a relationship after leaving home. Then there was the fact that her partner had been a little bit overprotective of her while they were together.
Merriot took another small sip of her ale as she listened to Deus’s comments. This wouldn’t be the first time she was told she didn’t really look like a mercenary. It didn’t bother her anymore. ‘He wants to hear about me? That’s a first,’ Merriot thought as she studied his face carefully. None of her clients had ever cared about who she was or why she was there. All they normally cared about was if she could get a job done or not. It caught her a little off guard.
“Well, I am from the village of Ellrit as I said before. It’s not very big, and it’s near the Jimroar Mountains. I spent the last few years travelling Virale and working as a mercenary with a friend of mine,” Merriot explained. She took a few moments to think. Maybe Deus might have seen Elwin. It certainly couldn’t hurt to ask. “My friend disappeared without a word about a year ago. I don’t know what happened to him. By any chance, have you ever heard of a man named Elwin Thayridge?”
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Post by Norion on Mar 31, 2010 14:58:32 GMT -8
Merriot looked a little confused as she spoke. Was she making her story up? No, that wasn't it... she must not be used to speaking about herself. It wasn't until she spoke of someone named Elwin Thayridge that her confusion was explained. Deus may very well look like somebody she knew... was that good or bad? He very well could have looked like her friends abductor, or worse... his killer. If he dodged the answer, she would either keep hitting him with questions or assume that he did and didn't want to talk about it. Hm.... he would have to play this carefully.
"Elwin Thayridge? Hm... it sounds sort of familiar. What did he look like?"
He furrowed his brow, feigning a pensive look. As long as she thought that he cared about her friend, he could keep this game going. He took another drink, finishing it off. He slid the mug to the side and grabbed a fresh drink from the table. The bar-maid had brought about 10, and he wasn't expecting a big party to show. He looked around, checking to see if any more party members had showed up. As far as Deus could tell, it was still just Merriot and himself. He would have to put thoughts of swooning her in the back of his mind, because business needed to take precident over pleasure.
"You say he was your friend? How did you know him?
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lotus
Survivor
[M:600]
Posts: 8
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Post by lotus on Mar 31, 2010 17:29:23 GMT -8
Merriot stared down at her drink as she described him. “Elwin is tall man. He’s in his late fifties, though you wouldn’t think that by looking at him. He’s muscular, has a tan, and there hasn’t been a single time that I’ve seen him where his dark brown hair wasn’t disheveled and messy,” the girl described. Talking about Elwin felt strange. She wasn’t sure whether to use past or present tense when talking about him. Merriot was positive that he was alive, but there was still the thought that he might be dead that lingering in the back of her mind.
‘No! What am I thinking? Of course he’s alive. I know Elwin better than that. Pull yourself together,’ she convinced herself.
Merriot looked back up from her drink and saw the look on Deus’s face. He looked like he was genuinely concerned about him. It gave the girl a slight feeling of relief. Even though she normally kept to herself on such matters, it felt nice to be able to talk about it with someone every now and then. Deus seemed to be pretty easy to talk to. Merriot continued. “Elwin practically raised me, teaching me all about combat while my parents were too busy with the farm to worry about me. It was because of him that I was able to become a mercenary.”
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Post by Arktivilist on Apr 1, 2010 6:32:17 GMT -8
Arktivilist had been on the road weeks before he had learned about this gathering of adventurers, and at first – he had suspected very little of it. It was a natural instinct for the human race to band together to achieve a quest or target. In fact he had noticed similar bandings during the old wars, so to hear of it now was of no real significance to the Daedric Prince of Darkness. Of course, this was before he learned what the target was going to be.
It had come all so suddenly three nights ago; a wandering vagabond had explained to him that the tavern held a warrior who had desired a gift, or maybe power from somewhere deep within the mountains. From his stories, Arktivilist suspected it was in relation to the old Dwarven strongholds – but he had hoped for more. Arktivilist was not a proud man for nothing, and although the dwarven people had no relation to him, he knew that if dwarves are around, so are his fellow daemons, and that – that was worth more than a bag of gold to him.
He trekked for a solid week before he had come across the tavern he had heard so much about in his last few days. He had heard that only the strongest of warriors approach those barren lands and then he heard tales of dragons and demons far mightier than the myth or legends described. It was all just folklore of course, even he knew that – but as the wind flicked back his white hair and his eyes dimmed back to their hazel like colour he could not help but feel the pang of an eerie wind smother his body, a presence that until now had been left un-noticed.
His eyes flickered to a dark red and in the small windy storm he could only see the doors to the tavern ahead, whip like slices stretched across his back as he walked, and although he felt the pain as he walked he knew there was nothing there, no whip – no blood, just the illusions of a tormented figurine hanging somewhere in the distance. He felt like turning to the figure, but if the man knew that he could sense him then who knows what the distant figure might do, instead- Arktivilist had decided to proceed as if he hadn’t felt the man’s wild strikes and pushed open the tavern door.
He stood only for a second by the arch, and he had to lower his head quickly to mask the pulsating red glow that emitted from both of his eyes, a sensory precaution he had left un-marked. It was bad, but once his eyes had returned to a dim red like hazel colour he faked a smile and walked casually to the bar. He turned to the two people then, the ones who eyes would have looked at his own, should he kill them? No, he smiled again as he sat himself down and quietly evaluated their plans.
[red]“I hear of a gathering. Maybe I can be of some use.”[/red] He smiled gently, although he had never managed to remove the distant gaze that glossed his eyes, even a stupid man would know he was not really smiling – but it was something he figured he’d try, after all – humans never reacted well to those who were daedric by birth.
“I may not look much, but ... “ He let the words hang in the air, and then simply dipped his head, yes, he needed this girl to finish her story – he didn’t care that she had lost a friend, and from the little he had heard from the doorway he wouldn’t start caring now. All he wanted was to see this task get completed, then he’d either leave or he’d kill then. That was his mission, he would kill anyone who was considered too powerful, anyone with the ability to create the wars of old – that was what Bael had asked for him to do, and until he was powerful enough to disobey his masters, he would do it.
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Post by Norion on Apr 1, 2010 10:34:13 GMT -8
Deus let Merriot's story drown out, equalizing with the level of the drunkards. He had something else to focus on... something more pressing. For some odd reason, Deus felt different. He wasn't quiet sick, but he didn't feel... he didn't feel good. The air around him seemed to feel stickier, maybe more humid. But it wasn't water in the air that made him rub his arms clean. It wasn't humidity that made him uncomfortable in his chair. No, something else was lingering in the air of this tavern.
It was death.
Deus could place that smell now. It wasn't the smell of decaying carcasses, but of a fresh kill. Like body odor and iron. The metallic odor of blood snaked it's way into Deus' senses, and he finally couldn't stop himself. His head shot side to side, looking for the sense of this smell. He was sure somebody had just been stabbed to death, and when his right hand readied itself to push him off the bench and his left hand began to creep toward his spear... he saw it.
Standing in the doorway was a very pale man with long white hair. It wasn't very often you saw pale people around, most of them either worked in the fields to survive, thus giving them a tan, or they had fur or scales. He could have been a nocturnal monster from the deserts... but Deus had a different idea. He had seen many of them before, and they all seemed to have the same thing in common. The smell of death followed them like a puppy.
As he came closer, the smell became stronger. Deus knew enough about people to tell how little he cared about this meeting. His eyes seemed to focus on nothing in particular, and his smile was as fake as... oh, shit. Deus was a master at controlling his breath-rate and his heart beat, but that couldn't stop his mind from spinning through scenario after scenario, knocking down option after option until he came to a conclusion. And Deus very well could have found his.
Absent of emotion.
Smell of death.
Pale skin.
Daemon.
Shit.
Deus, however, had emotions he could feign and let a genuine smile cross his face. He stuck a hand out as a peace offering while the man spoke.
"I heard of a gathering, maybe I could be of some use."[/i]
Like hell you could, you demonic killer. Deus was sure somebody had sent this man after him. Deus had pissed a lot of people off, but nobody important enough to have the gold to send a Daemon after him. Deus leaned in and spoke in a whisper, cutting the Daemon off as he spoke.
"Listen, I'm not wet behind the ears, alright? I know what you are, so we can drop the facade. You're a Daemon, I know. It's not like I've been living in a crib my whole life, I've seen my fair share of you guys. Just don't kill me, alright? I'm not trying to generalize here, but from what I've seen some of you tend to be quite violent. I'm hoping we can save that for whatever we encounter on this job. Correct?"
By not talking about his assassination theory, Deus had eliminated it from the table, and hopefully eliminated the conflict from happening in this tavern. If this guy used magic, then Deus was cornered. All these people would hinder his movement, and he would be like a fish in a burlap sack.
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Post by Arktivilist on Apr 1, 2010 11:29:51 GMT -8
Arktivilist’s glare retreated to the man’s hand, and for a moment the pair stood in utter silence as the man’s offering of peace was denied. It was enough, he had thought – and then raised his eyes to meet the man who had suddenly spoken so genuinely to him. He knew, from the way the sweat danced on the man’s forehead and the way his blood rushed within his veins that the man was lying, or rather – pretending. But that, like everything within the materialistic world he had created didn’t matter, all that mattered was the pursuit of his mission.
[red]“I have not come to kill you.”[/red] He muttered, and then suddenly his eyes beamed a dark red and a pale light stretched from each of the four corners in his body, they overlapped at first – and then transcended into a perpetual frenzy of small lights sizzling just above his skin. It faded, gently so that it was almost like a placid wisp that hovered uselessly around him – but with that air also came the sense of danger, and the two men locked eyes once more.
[red]“I have come to join this gathering of yours. What I am and what I do is of no importance to you. But...”[/red]
He turned to the girl and then back to the man, assessing his options,[red] “Do not think I am interested in what you know or what you want. I seek something and I was hoping you’d lead me to it.”[/red]
He smiled, though again he could not drop his cold gaze. It was impossible for him, to lie, joke or even have some fun. Everything he did, said and lived for was set in stone – he was too open to others, like a book without a cover, he hated it...but what he showed the world was not kindness and it was for that reason why men and women took him with a steady hand...
[red]“I am Arktivilist.”[/red]
He bowed his head gently and the light began to spark, nothing happened, although his body was automatically preparing should he be assaulted. He had learned in his years of existence that men, more so than women – attacked what they did not understand.
[red]“I am a daedric prince, a Lord of Darkness on this realm. My mission is to eradicate the distortion of the world.”[/red]
He smiled genuinely then, a sly cryptic smile that spoke volumes,[red] “When you’re stronger.”[/red] He turned round to face the woman, [red]“I may have to kill you, but until then you can call me what you like...”[/red] He turned to the other guests in the room, noticing almost instantly who was a farmer, a stylist or a warrior. In the end he realised that the man and the woman were the only threats to his existence and he considered both of them to be of minimal worth.
[red]“So what is your goal?”[/red]
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Post by Norion on Apr 1, 2010 13:27:22 GMT -8
Deus sat, listening to the daedric being as he spoke. Deus knew that the man would not risk combat in this area. It would not give the daemon any advantages, so when the light appeared Deus knew not to be worried. Deus' brilliant sapphire eyes met with the man's bloody hazel orbs once more. The tension between them was something Dues did not often encounter. However, Deus did nothing to inch his body towards his spear. He was confident in his speed, and if it came down to conflict, he would be ready. Insteady, he crossed both arms across the table, and leaned forward slightly. He was showing both hands, so the daemon would know he had no weapons concealed under the table, ready to strike.
The daemon introduced himself as Arktivilist, a daedric prince. Deus knew that the energy he senses running through the room wasn't just negative, it was demonic. He had every reason to believe this man's claim. Although the man was obviously dangerous, Deus currently had no cause for alarm. The light show was a display of power, almost territorial you could say. Deus had something this man wanted, directions to a location, so until they got there Deus wasn't planning on dying.
"I would bow, prince, but I'm already seated and I don't feel like getting up." Deus said as he casually took a drink from his mug. The ale tasted like he was drinking bread, and it wet his previously dry mouth. He set the mug down, and met the man's gaze again. He squinted for a moment, collecting his thoughts and analyzing the man's body language. Deus could feel a few droplets of sweat on his brow and he wiped them away.
"Man, it got hot in here when you showed up... being a daedric prince, I'm assuming you work with fire then. Anyway, you want to here my goal? Well, it's quite simple. There are caves in the Jimroar Mountains. I intend to clean them out. If there is anybody, or anything, living there I intend to kill them. If there is treasure, which I'm sure there will be, I intend to take it. Of course, I believe in equal shares, so you two would both get your fair share of the prize. I would like to leave as soon as possible, so if you two are up for it, then great. If not, I believe our business is concluded."
Deus, took another swig of the ale, letting it sit in his mouth before swallowing it.
"Of course, I have another reason for wanting the Jimroar caverns clear out, but who I am and what I do isn't really of any importance to you, is it?" he said with a smile that almost seemed genuine. Arktivilist would only get what he gave, and if he didn't feel like providing any details about who he was... than neither did Deus.
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Post by salty on Apr 2, 2010 22:10:27 GMT -8
Lisk sauntered up to the tavenr, eyes bright and alert. Her scales glittered dully as she opened the door. Smoke and the smell of ale wafted out to her slitted nostrils. She stepped in, confidence oozing from her every pore. She let her gaze flicker across the romm glaring at stares aimed her way. He rsight stumbled upon a group of three sitting at a table. It has to be them, no other tables reflected the oddness and secretivness than the table these three sat at.
She swaggered her way over, her hips swaying with the thrum of voices. Her gaze rested upon the face Of the girl first. She doubted they would get along, she seemed rather meek. Her next glanced showed ehr the face of a Daemon. She frrowned but made no comment. She caught and held the gaze of the obvious leader of the small group. "I got the message. I'll help you out, if there is still room anyways." She was certain there was, but she wanted it confirmed. "My name is Lisk, and by now I'm sure you are aware of my race. I am a brilliant fighter..." She let the sentence hang and folded her arms across her chest.
She kept her eyes locked on his, almost daring him to speak. Her sword was slung across her back, it's large frame as long as her own torso, and she was not that short. It slip between her shoulder blades comfortably as she stood still. She offered no hand, wanting him to make the first move, if he joked, she would joke. If he was serious, the same applied. She stood ramrod straight, and the barmaid passed her by quikly alert for any possible bows to be thrown.
(couple notes, I will add color later, and, shouldn't we have some sort of posting order?)
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