August 2003 - Mail Archives

Coordination and information for the various volunteers of BDI.
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August 2003 - Mail Archives

Post by Jayne »

A Letter to Lay and Merak
Author: Jack Allen
Date: 1 August 2003


Dulcina would hand two identicle envelopes to thw women whose names were left by the pirate.

On the parchment provided by the inn, beautifully scripted writing would set down the letter, as well as the exact coordinates for his trip.

The letters read as follows:

Dear Lay/Merkie,
By the time you get this letter, I'll most likely be gone. Sailing off into the sunset and all that stuff the hero does, even though he's not a hero. hehe. Dunno how long I'll be away, if things go well it should take two months (rp translation: monday) and if not..well we'll just have to see. Be careful, whatever you do, and take care of Lay/Merkie for me, she may be tough but she's not the brightest one in the bunch when it comes to risking her own life. Don't expect too much when I get back though, this is one man-whore who keeps his title clean, depending on how you look at it hehe.

I'd like to say that I'll miss you, but that would sound too sentimental, and we both know I'm not like that. Suffice to say I'll hurry back and get you out of whatever trouble you've gotten yourself into, and then you will buy me rum. lots and lots of rum. savvy?

I've gotta get through the Reef of Tears, luckily I've got the best crew around, even if they are bloodthirsty bastards. Wish me luck, eh? dun wanna find your Cap'n washed up on the rocks with crabs eatting 'im do ye?

And lets not forget Hell's Eye, lost two men coming in and I don't plan to lose anymore unless I have to. And then, open sea, which can be just as dangerous, as well you probably know. Pirates everywhere, those loathsome bastards would just love to attack an innocent sailor like myself. hehe cough cough, I know I know.

When I pulled in, I ran into a few Korhtai blacksharks and barely made it in, now I'm ready for 'em even if I don't have my magical sister anymore. Luckily, I'm not very worried about the 'sea wolves' or anything else, they fail to realize that I'm Captain Silverhair! yeah yeah, stop laughing or making faces, I know you are.

well, my rum is running low, and so is the ink, so I'm going to end this letter on a final, repeated note: keep an eye on Lay/Merkie and make sure she's alive when I get back. And you too!

The pirate of your dreams,
Captain Silverhair
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Re: August 2003 - Mail Archives

Post by Jayne »

The Eye of the Storm
Author: Sinner or Saint
Date: 1 August 2003

South and East of the famed Black Dragon Inn there lies a torrent of elemental rage. A perpetual clashing of wind, water, and anger creates a storm that will never rest. The label on most maps call it Hell's Eye, but to sailors it is known only as Death. Those whose happenstance finds them caught within its fury seldom, if ever, live to tell the tale. Navigation in these unruly waters is next to impossible; the tides work in a never-ending task to suck all who stray from course within, and there they remain, forever tossed and dashed against the rocks and waves. In the center of this eternal weather system though, there lies a deadly calm. The eye of the storm.

Cyclopean construction lifts obsidian rock high amidst Hell's Eye. A lone tower, stretching far beyond the eyesight of mere mortals stands vast and solitary. Perhaps some have seen it, though it is often the last sight their vision beholds as they pass through the walls of the storm surrounding it. Shadows circle the cloud-laden summit of the tower, seeming to have life of their own. Black as night this structure gleams, centuries old, and there it will remain for all of time. It is the home of something perhaps as old as the fury itself.

On a dark night, the storm is particularly fierce. The wind sings a violent siren's song, howling it's anger to the skies, shaking the very foundations of the sea itself. A mighty trade ship, crew and passengers numbering in the hundreds, finds its sails torn from their masts, the deck shattered with debris. All hope is lost as the sailors onboard struggle to free themselves from this hellish navigational nightmare, but to no avail. Most die within seconds, torn to visceral shreds by their own crumbling vessel. Some, however, survive, tossed mightily onto a black, sandy shore. Bleeding, unable to move, barely able to breathe the three men lay broken. Their wailed prayers and begging are drowned out, pitiful mewls lost to even their own ears. Death will come for certain, as there is no escape. They pray for their families, their loved- ones. One even prays for the hooker he will never see again.

At the top-most apex of the tower, black wings unfurl. Midnight velvet stretches, beats at the air furiously, and settles against a lean, pale back. Taloned feet, those of the predatory bird, release their perch, and a body rises slowly. Hematite shaded eyes, their pewter pupils widening, peer over the edge of the tower's wall, their vision keen, piercing the fog and soft rain falling around their home. The cries are not lost on these ears, and the pleading to live beckons her to duty. Legs bunch beneath the female demon who resides here, and the wings raise again, spreading wide. A leap, and her body plummets from the tower, wings folded back in a swift dive, as the hawk zeroes in on its prey. Down, down, and further still her flight takes her, until at last, in an upturning of ebony sand, those feet grip the ground.

One man simply loses consciousness at the sight of her. A pity, as he was useless then. She tosses him to the mercy of the wind and the sea, his body lost forever, now fodder for the horrific creatures that dwelled in caves beneath this mighty structure. Her eyes move to the second man, and before her, his life slips away. The third, however, lays whimpering only a few feet away. She moves to him, silk on darkness, and beside him she crouches, wings folding to her back. The man looks up at her, pain clouding his bloodshot eyes. "Please..." is the only word he manages to choke out, one hand feebly lifting towards her.

"Do you wish to live, sailor?" Comes the voice of the monster-savior. Soft and lilting, almost musical in quality, heaven to the ears of the pain-wracked man.

"Anything..." he croaks, another wave of torment eliciting his scream. This had been the man dreaming of his whore, and now he thinks on her again, tears flowing freely down blood-streaked tears. His body is a broken mass of bleeding, shattered and torn tissues. "Help me..."

"Your life, for your eternal servitude then, young man. Accept, and surrender your eternity to me, or die in the storm. The choice is yours. I am sure though, that before you die, you will live just long enough to see your limbs torn from you by what lives beneath the waves here. Do you still wish me to help you now?" A taloned hand overs over the man, tinsel thin strands of electricity crackling between the razor sharp tips.

"I don't.... want... to die here... yes..." The man's eyes flutter, threatening to close forever.

"Very well then," the demoness replies. "You are mine." The electricity arcs from her outstretched hand and into the dying man's body. He would have screamed, had his throat not been locked in seizure. Bones pop, sinew crackles, knitting itself into a whole being once more. Blood sucks noisily from the sand back into the vessels that had spilled it, and a low thrumming noise, a rhythmic pulsing, signals the return of steady heartbeat. A heavy sigh escapes the man as he rolls to face his savior. "Thank y..." his words are lost, stifled with a horrified cry. He sees his fate now; there are some worse, much worse than death.

Above him the monstrous heroin cackles, rising to her feet. She bends, hand circling around the man's bicep, hauling him to his feet. "Come now, and enjoy your eternity." The sand opens beneath him, a gaping maw rising from the black granules, toothless and dripping bile. She holds him there for a brief moment, and again he begs for his life. "I gave you your life, young man. And in exchange, you gave me your soul. You are useless to me now, having upheld your end of the bargain. I said before that you might live to see your limbs ripped from you if you declined my offer, and now... now you will live to see them torn, only to grow back again, painfully twisted and deformed. You will provide an eternal feast to the depths! Ia! ia!" Her grip releases him, sending him plunging into his waiting, and very, very hungry fate.
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Re: August 2003 - Mail Archives

Post by Jayne »

Combatants for an unarmed combat match.
Author: Dave Dubya Eddings
Date: 1 August 2003

(Just as a reminder, the Alesian consulate's opening ball will be August 10th, at 9pm EST. The following is announced in various places.)

"In honor of the opening of the Alesian consulate in Drache, we are now accepting challengers for the unarmed fight (no holds barred) that will be part of the opening festivities. Interested parties should apply, in writing, of their wish to fight our own unarmed fighter. The challenger to actually fight will be drawn from the lots. The match is to occur at the ball itself."
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Re: August 2003 - Mail Archives

Post by Jayne »

Request of Protection ( Arciana )
Author: Kat Boutwell
Date: 2 August 2003

Arciana held the letter for a moment, her lips mouthing the words as she read common very slowly. Her brows furrowed further as she blinked a few times, obviously rather confused. She had been requested to watch over someone, or at least as far as she could gather she had. Setting down the letter she look out her small window of the barracks in which she stayed.

The walls around her had always given her the creeps and she wondered at times how she could stand to sleep with them all around her. That wasn't the only way her mind and heart was so different from these people if the letter was any indication. Being asked to watch over someone was more then a quick note and a wave, it was a solemn oath that was to take someone in as if they were your blood. This person had no clue who Arciana was. How was she to know if she wanted this barbaric woman's protection or not. The 6'7 Guard sighed as she shook her head. She never got completely over her shyness. What most people took as an air of aloofness was really her not wanting to meet people out of fear. Fear that they would shy away from her massive stature and not see her as her family did, Little Arciana, the youngest of the Wolfskill clan and the most gentle. Still she took the differences into consideration as she strapped on her armor and uniform and headed out to the inn were she thought the best place to start to look for this Keytar.
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Re: August 2003 - Mail Archives

Post by Jayne »

Occurences Across Town
Author: Marek Swiftblade
Date: 3 August 2003

OOC Note: The alter mentioned several weeks ago in the start of this does not call to everyone. It's only specific in regards to who hears the call and at present, no pcs have been called. However, this does not mean that no one has seen it so earlier posts of the alter being seen are perfectly valid. If I can keep up enough ambition, things should get rolling. Regardless, here's a bit more.

****

Coinciding with the altar's pulsating in the Forest Reserve, there were other strange happenings in the city's lower half. Sighted several times and engaged in a few times as well, were beings that appeared like bipedal rat men. Those who spoke of them were most times looked like jesters who'd taken one too many clubs to the head during their routines, as most did not believe that such was possible. To those that saw it and felt the truth in full, well, they believed their experiences.

One such believer was a street rat, several of them in fact. Even now, the wounds of a fight several weeks ago were still lingering, though healed enough that they were no longer a concern. A trail of claws marks across the lad's right abdomen, jagged scars now forming. He'd lost his best friend in the attack, and collectively, they had barely escaped with their lives. How different it could have been if more had shown up.

Birddog was a survivor, one had to be to make it on the streets alone. Velly, his best friend, had been there by his side since the start of the Dockhands gang. Now, that gang was just about to fall apart. Defending their turf against other gangs, drunks, and even at times over-eager city officials, was one thing. Human-sized rats was another.

He and a couple others had managed to drag the body of one of the dead ratmen to the garrison in the Wharf District, though they didn't stick around long enough to be asked any questions or give any information. As such, they didn't see the fact that the body reverted back to that of a young man, likely in his twenties. By the time the guard found him, any trace of his 'curse' was gone, and it would go down as a simple murder or some good Samaritan bringing the dead body so it could be properly cared for. The funeral for Albranth Marthnen came a week later.

Birddog watched as several others from his gang disappeared. Ran off, he assumed, having been gone when their own transformations took place and as their new forms scurried away through a floorboard or crack in the wall. They would return, no doubt. They always did.

Another had been privy to the sightings as well, through a bit of misfortune, though he was far more prepared than the simple street brawlers. In a way, he had been searching for proof of the ratmen, as rumors spread quickly among the lower classes who feared that it was another group that would prey on their lives. So, when entering the darkened alley and hearing the squeaking of a couple rats, the black-robed mage was ready.

A group of four were encountered, all four of them coming from around the same corner, after they changed no doubt. His staff was enough to take down one, and the smell of ozone and soon after charred flesh was enough to kill the other three. The former of which he removed from the area to study, and after a short while, that body returned to normal as well. A young woman, her body soon disposed of properly and leaving no trace of his tampering.

This prompted the mage to delve into more study, though it did not take long for an answer to be forthcoming. It was as he suspected, though the reason for the sudden arrival was evading him. Perhaps the answer could be found in the sewers. After all, the Slaadi had come from there some months ago. Why not these creatures? He could go alone, with little trouble. He did not fear much in this city, which was a good thing.

Shimmering, swirling eyes glance briefly to the black sapphire atop his staff, shadows swirling within it. It would take all of them to succeed, most likely, though he was willing to spare them for the final outcome. Not for this city, but for himself. He knew the presence that had arrived. The motives were not against the people, but against a few. Those few would have to stop him.


***

For those who had seen the altar first, or had gone back, it would be noted that the altar has begun to pulse a bit more. Almost like a heartbeat in its rhythm, and the pulsing has gotten stronger. The calls to the unseen and unknown, getting louder.
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Re: August 2003 - Mail Archives

Post by Jayne »

Occurences Across Town - Smidget
Author: Lil Smidget
Date: 3 August


She straightens herself from her stooped posture, the heels of her hands pressing into the small of her back, kneading at the knots there. She'd neglected her garden the last few days, and her payback had been the last few hours spend weeding and tending to the flowers, vegetables, and herbs she spent such great care planting months before. Odd, it seemed to her, that in just a few days the weeds seemed ready to take over entirely, and some of them appeared sickly and strange, their coloring off, and their growth patterns distorted from the usual variety. For many days she had been uneasy; her intuition and the strong connection with nature most wood elves have had been a prickling annoyance at the back of her mind, and she had an ever-growing feeling of dread, as though the forest around her was unable to be at peace. Normally, the patch of Forest Reserve she had built her home in was exactly that - peaceful, calm, serene, and above all, away from the hullaballoo of downtown Drache.

As the last weed is wrenched from the ground, she holds it up to examine it, turning the spindly stems over in her hand. It just didn't look right to her. It was far too grey for any living thing, and the leaves were cut through with veins filled with some sort of gooey, red substance which seeped from a few crushed tendrils. Her nose twitches; damned if the thing even smelled wrong, as a sickly sweet odor eminated from the broken leaves. It smelled like decay, a long forgotten stench, however subtle. She tosses it on the pile with the rest, intending to scoop it all up and remove it tomorrow morning, as the sun was beginning to set. As she turns back toward the house, her emerald eyes widen in shock, and she'd be stricken albino if what she saw before her wasn't true. In the upturned soil she had just pulled the odd growths from, she saw tiny saplings of the same plants beginning to peek through the ground.

Hesitating not a second more, she breaks out into a flat run, skirting the side of her house and bursting through the front door, heedless of the dirt she tracked in behind her. "Faz? Love come down, there's something wrong with the garden. The weeds have gone all wrong..." She peers up the staircase expectantly, and before her last words fade, her husband pokes his head around the corner.

"Tev, I should think you'd be ecstatic is the weeds disappeared, with as much time as you spend up to your elbows in them." He grinned broadly as he made his way down to her, his voice teasing. The smile fades though, as he sees the troubled and, if it weren't such a foreign expression to her, frightened look on her face.

"You don't understand... they haven't disappeared. They WON'T disappear." She turns for the door again, and Fazuul makes to follow her, his own hackles rising in reaction to her fear. Tevian didn't scare easily, and certainly wouldn't be this upset over a bunch of nuisance plants.

They round the side of the house, and the wood elf's jaw drops in a silent screech of shock. A dark arm stretches out, pointing at the already half-regrown patches of weed. She looks between them and the pile she had just yanked up, and then looks to Fazuul. "Do you see? I just pulled those, and they've already grown back! That's not possible!"

"Calm down now, Tev, maybe you just missed something..." His arm snakes about her shoulder; she's shaking, and his brow furrows again. His nose lifts to the air, keen senses on immediate alert. She was right. There was something very.. very not right. The air was wrong. And then he felt it.

Both of them felt it, in fact, and Tevian ducks her head, cowering against him, dwarfed next to him, both her arms wrapping around his waist. A deep thrumming was quivering the ground beneath them, and the air seemed heavier all of a sudden. The pulse was nearly audible, but one did not need ears to know that it was very, very real, and getting stronger. "Faz... something is wrong. I think we're in danger here..."
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Re: August 2003 - Mail Archives

Post by Jayne »

a note to the Regency Council from Lay`Trayin
Author: Aridia
Date: 4 August 2003

=-=Anote dropped off adressed to the Regency Council by Lay`Trayin=-=

Honorable Sirs

After much thought to my mothers dilemma i wish only to write and ask that perchance you had overlooked something that might solve the problem for her citizenship. Perhaps if you asked her how she comes to be as she is and not a vampyre any longer it may help in this matter.

Respectfully

Lay`Trayin
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Re: August 2003 - Mail Archives

Post by Jayne »

On the Subject of Tespin Aridia Vloress
Author: Ami Manfredo
Date: 6 August 2003

To my Esteemed Colleagues in the Body of Magistrates,

While I realize that I am relatively new to both my position and this fair city, I must admit to some dismay at the passing over of Tespin Vloress. While I understand that the city has suffered hardships on account of the undead in the past - including vampires - Tespin Bransultha-Tul makes an excellent point in stating that Tespin Vloress is no longer such a creature.

I'm certain that many of you are skeptical, and rightly so. Such things do happen rarely. Yet, they do happen. Even had it not, I do believe the law can make exception for those who have proven exemplary service to the kingdom and Crown?

Edict 171 - Concerning Demons and the Undead:C. Those rare undead beings that have not only demonstrated a benign demeanor, but have a record of public service to the Crown or officers thereof may be granted full citizenship by special order of the Crown in reward for their services, such as service in the military or the Royal Guard.

Though she may not be a member of the military, certainly Tespin Vloress service in the Mist War and her aid to us in keeping her eyes open for trouble in the Black Dragon where so many of the city's problems brew should account for something? I can attest to Tespin Vloress assistance myself, having found her most helpful and respectful as a witness in a recent trial. (Her assistance was noted in my report.)

Granted, though I find it difficult to believe that Tespin Vloress refrained from feeding from living humans during her years as a vampire, should we now punish her for doing what was needed to survive in a life not of her choosing? Imagine what it must be like for Tespin Vloress to be marked for revile and possible death for the rest of what would have been an unnatural existence.

I urge the council to look past Tespin Vloress' former life - a life forced upon her! - and to her recent deeds and manner of living and reconsider her application.

Humbly,
The Honourable Ketara Ireina sa Laien
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Re: August 2003 - Mail Archives

Post by Jayne »

A letter to Alisha from Magistrate Takani Goran
Author: The Valheru
Date: 6 August 2003

[A prompt reply - The magistrate worked late as it was, and was likely still at her desk when the letter first arrived. The handwriting was neat, but had a simple, wide, comfortable flow to it rather than the calligraphic script of most.]

"Lady Alisha Bransultha-Tu,

Firstly I must state a fact you may not be aware of. The person you hold as witness has been convicted and punished of a very serious crime in the eyes of the courts of Drache. Although she has served her punishment, and not come before us on any further charges, it still stands to reason that her integrity is suspect. She may well be a person of honour, but that has yet to be proven, as, I feel, is the case of her mother as well.

Now, I with my own ears have heard Lady Vloress admit to hundreds of murders, of humans, during her early years in the throws of vampirism; Worse, she admitted that she was still in possession of her soul despite being in a state of undeath, which makes the crimes all the worse for being carried out whilst in a knowing state. She admitted to spending three thousand years as a vampire. How many lapses might she have had, even whilst she was feeding only from animals?

In truth, as is my duty, I believe you have been misled by Lady Traylin's playing down of her mother's situation. Youth or not, there is no excuse for murder! What is our punishment for murder? Death. But as the crimes were not committed within the territory of Arangoth, we cannot punish her properly. There is, however, a social and emotional burden that Lady Vloress MUST bear, for the sake of our own citizens. Should we grant her the rights of an innocent, we would be condoning vampirism, and the murder that goes with it.

My granddaughter fought, and risked death in the invasion of the undead with the mist. I retired long before the incident began to the Elvendeep, and returned only a short time ago, but my own flesh and blood battled. She has spoken to me of the matter, and she speaks gravely ill of Lady Vloress' actions - She claims her blatant uses of magic risked more lives on the side of good than on evil. While this cannot be proved any more than can Lady Traylin's claims, my granddaughter is most certainly not one to speak in vain.

As your knowledge of the laws and such prove you to be an intelligent person, I am quite certain you will see where I stand on this matter. As often as it is brought before me, I will deny Lady Aridia Vloress citizenship - To do anything less would be a show of weakness, and would dishonour both my ancestors and your own.

The fact that she continues to do good works is, perhaps, a mark in her favour, but what penance is there that could bring back the lives she has taken, both human and animal? If she truly wishes to atone for her deeds, it will take more than a few years for her to do so.

As a magistrate, my duty comes first and foremost to the city of Drache; there is a problem in this fair state with the undead. Encouraging it in any way, shape or form would only serve to increase this problem. Whilst she is not currently in a state of undeath, she has been in the past, and she is currently a fallen angel, by her own claim. I fail to see how one can become a fallen angel without being an angel to begin with, but regardless: A fallen angel is very little better than a demon, by my own reckoning of things. She has simply gone from one evil to another.

As a paladin of justice, I find she can never atone for her deeds. Willing or not, a crime is still a crime. Manslaughter may not be as bad as murder, but it is still a wicked deed, one which cannot be forgiven lightly. If she truly wishes to become a citizen, it will take a lot longer than the time she has currently dedicated – Both including the time she says she has spent doing good deeds, and within the city itself.

As a sentient being, and an elf she has done wrong. She has committed hideous crimes against humanity. The king himself declined her petition not so very many weeks ago. I say it will be years before Lady Vloress should even consider herself ready to reapply.

I am afraid you will find no quarter from me in this matter.

Sincerely,

Her Honour, Takani Goran.”

[Signed and sealed with wax bearing Takani's personal crest, to prevent
violation.]
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Re: August 2003 - Mail Archives

Post by Jayne »

To the Magistrates of Drache
Author: Jack Allen
Date: 6 August 2003

*The parchment upon which the letter is written is soiled with dirt and blood, though the script is quite legible and neat*

Dear Sirs and Ma'ams

I have been keeping a careful watch on the city, for my own good as well as the good of the city itself, though I have not the time nor ink to dwell upon my reasons for doing so.

It has come to my attention that, while still honorable, some of the magistrates are biased against the undead. This is not acceptable. Aridia Vlorress has long prevented me from breaking the laws of Drache in my quest for 'justice' which was not truly justice as I wished to believe. That aside I wish to state that Aridia Vlorress has done nothing but good for this city, which is nothing more than a cesspit of creation in my opinion, in all her time here. I was here the first time she arrived, she was still entrapped in the spell that caused her to sleep around, perhaps even give her lover a dark kiss by request. The night I met her, she took me to her bed and, I will leave out the details, I was able to null the spell for a short time.

We married soon after that, both deeply in love with the other, and since then she has been the reasoning behind my sword. Without her, I would most likely be one of the most wanted in Drache for murder. Yes, she was a vampire in her youth and as a former kindred I can vouch that she did only what she had to do in order to survive. For anyone to believe that another has no right to live simply because they must feed off the blood of a living thing, I will personally hunt down. Yes, it is a threat but unfortunately I have been drawn to do such things. None of you are gods, or even close to being gods, and therefore have no right saying another species does not deserve to live.

I have a respect for authority, do not twist my words into calling me a psychotic killer, but I must speak my mind; Remove any and all magistrates who have a grudge against undead before deciding the case.

By now you may have guessed who I am, but know that I am not favoring Aridia. From what I have seen and heard concerning her, she has made herself a better candidate for citizenship than many of the citizens of Drache deserve. True, she has killed thousands, ended hundreds of lives, but then...so have each of you. perhaps not in the amount Aridia has, but each of you have killed. Just because you were working for a god or whatever your excuse, you killed. It is highly unjust for any of you to judge her for her past, which she still hates herself for to this day. Recently she has been working to protect the city just as I am, but we will not be enough, each and every citizen of Drache would do well to listen to what Aridia has to say for she will not lead anyone wrong.

I am running out of ink, and I fear my time of rest may be short, but I wish to reiterate my request and demand; Remove all those with a grudge against undead from this matter.

*rather than a signature at the bottom, there is a wax seal of two swords crossing over the blade of an axe. right beside it is T.V. in large letters
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