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... ous wetland. He'd taken his time, moving as quietly as possible through the underbrush as the sun's rosy hue faded slowly into early morning blue.

Harn is asking if you are in position.

Tell him to hold on.

He stopped at the foot of a rocky cliff where the ground looked to have once slid down into the swamp, leaving a number of tall trees leaning slantwise over the foul water. Ahead, the Poison Fields opened up before him. A few flatboats were in the periphery, but none w ...

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