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Click, tap, pain. That was the rhythm of his walking.
If he was being completely honest, he didn’t really enjoy smoking. It made him feel a bit sick, but it was very fashionable and very expensive, and Jezal would be damned if he would miss out on something fashionable just because he didn’t like it.
If you could have stabbed someone in the face with the phrase “good day,” the head of the Guild of Mercers would have lain dead on the floor.
Could they really all be people? People like him with thoughts and moods and dreams?
