An infodumpy paragraph before I head off to sleep. At least I'm putting words into the actual manuscript for once.
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Her uncle's home sat across from one of the little screening parks; one that featured statues and fountains of dark stone rather than carefully manicured trees and shrubbery. The House of Kyldathar was old, built when land outside the oldest of the city walls had been cheap and the second ring was still being constructed. For their foresight, her uncle's ancestors managed to build a manor that rivaled any of the far older edifices that clustered around the palace at the heart of the city, and one that dwarfed most of its neighbors. It was an imposing home and it had terrified her when she'd first been brought inside the gates.
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Yar.