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The Slayer's Fellowship
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"To me, there has always been an incredible sense of... satisfaction, when I slay a beast."
The dark figure took a moment. He glanced up at the ceiling of the poorly-lit, dingy cave. A sinister grin spread across his face, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards.
“An insatiable thirst... to end the lives of beasts and evil creatures.”
In a single, swift action, he ripped the blade of the greatsword from the side of the monstrous hell-hound’s skull, the corpse finally falling to the ground, lifeless. He breathed a sigh of relief.
The cave was littered with the bodies of hellhounds, vile and vicious creatures..
This was not an adventurer’s work. This was no work of a group of guards. This was no work of a soldier.
This was the work of a slayer.
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