[Aldrick is standing in the store where everyone is getting their favors back. He is clenching his letter in one hand, and has been staring at the shelf for several minutes, where a longsword lies in it's sheath, waiting. Finally, in disgust, he grabs it off the shelf and stalks out of the store, grumbling things like:...]
I knew you would come
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It fucking finds a way.
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I am cursed. I have been for the past twelve years and the whole thing has been one non-stop ordeal of tragedies, disasters, wars, and general misfortune.
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I have spent the last thousand years endlessly killing and being killed by my eternal rival.
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Also, I suppose it doesn't take as much to provoke a battle to the death when both people involved are immortal.
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