It was a day like any other for Fiontann, he was sitting somehow apart from the Company, but kept his on them, as well as the townsfolk, he was expecting an attack on Eaworth any day, after his Company burned the orc encampment. They were all there, together, around the fire, talking, he was next to a house, sitting on a stump of a tree, holding a jar full of ale, as always.
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