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Gabriel Archer & Jack Canaan

Smashwords Edition

Copyright©2012 MetaFic, Inc.

All rights reserved.

The crowd of unwashed peasants from the local village is holding its collective breath, and I am grateful, for truly, their breath is fetid. They're anticipating the grand appearance of the hero. No, not like that. Hero. The Hero. The Mr. Perfect. Mr. Flaxen-Hair-Flexing-Muscles. He had gone into the dragon's lair an hour ago and what followed were the echoing sounds of a majestic battle: angry roars; heroic, selfless proclamations; steel clashing against scales. Then those sounds ceased and it has been quiet for the last ten minutes or so. The villagers expect the best; I hope for the worst.

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