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Wings of charred sulphur envelope the suffocating heat burning from within this dragon’s belly. Molten lava seeps from every crack along her body, dripping to the ground where furious flames whip and lick at her feet.
Through the tattered and torn fabric of his death robes, the Grim ReaperÆs grotesque face peers out from the shadow, cold and unmoving with sunken eyes that have seen an eternity. The fabric of time wears thin.
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