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RADS 185. Dragon Gambit

The tension in the camp was palpable. Sam and his companions stood in a tight circle, watching as cultists rifled through their belongings. Mother Elara, with her serene yet unnervingly watchful eyes, oversaw the search. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest. They had only just managed to steal the critical document that hinted about the Archbishop’s true plans. If it were found, they were as good as dead.

“Check the tents thoroughly,” Mother Elara ordered, her voice calm but commanding.

Sam’s mind raced. The document needed to be hidden, and fast. Suddenly, he remembered the Daemonic Vault, a gift from a Friedo. It allowed him to store items in a pocket dimension, or more precisely, the daemonic realm.

When a cultist moved closer, Sam subtly used that skill, feeling a slight tug as the document vanished from his hand into the void. The cultist's search turned up nothing but mundane items.

“Looks like you’re clean,” one of the cultists muttered, moving on.

Mother Elara's eyes
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