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Calm... A tearful goodbye

Outside of Hank's estate, stood two men. One was a tall man that towered over seven feet tall. The other was a short noseless man. Both had blood stained on their clothes, and both stood on a pile of Drakemen warriors bodies.

"Phew, that was unpleasant," said Wolfgang, the taller man. "You can't be a bandit without a bit of killing every now and then," said Hans as he pulled out a broken sword from the chest of one of the Drakemen.

He then slammed the flat against Wolfgang's stomach, "and it would've been a lot more easier if you'd made the swords right!'

"Hey! I made em right I did!" Said Wolfgang, "yeah right you did. Why'd they break then?" Hans began walking off.

"I don't know. I used stronger metal than the last ones..." "Ya idiot! Metals gotta be strong AND flexible. A sword that can't flex is a sword that breaks!" Said Hans.

"Oh..." Wolfgang said as he looked down at the sword. "Either way, looks like we caught him before he could escape," smiled Hans as he looked at a certain
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