Blind (IC - Closed)

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Light shimmered around him and he rolled off the ray just before it hit the ground. He didn’t want the impact to kill it and certainly with him on its back, it might have very well died. The shield that Evara had cast around him absorbed most of the impact, but he still felt the hit.

Coughing, he raised himself up on one elbow and looked around. The ray was alive, but injured. Without his weight it was able to keep itself from hitting the ground, but the damage from whatever made it fall from the sky was evident. It wouldn’t be able to carry his weight; he would be walking back to the base. He slowly got to his feet, hoping that whatever it was wasn’t nearby while he struggled to put his head back on from the fall.

“Evara?” he choked out. Where had she gone? Had she been hit, too? He looked around and then sighed with relief as he heard her call his name and spotted her running towards him.

“What was that?” he asked as she ran up. “Who was that? One of the people who escaped from Blade’s Edge?”
Evara knelt down beside him and checked for wounds. “I don’t know,” she said. “You are pulling yourself up, so I think nothing is broken? Let me cast a prayer of healing over you.”

Without waiting for an answer, she stood and recited the prayer. She could feel the Light gathering to her and surrounding her. That finished, she turned her attention to the ray. She cast a smaller spell on it, helping to ease the pain, but it was in no shape to fly.

“The ray is badly injured,” she said, reaching down to help him to his feet. The sun was setting now and without the rays to carry them back to the base quickly, they would be foolish to try and walk back that night. “I think we might be out here for the night.” She turned a stern glance on him, “and no, I am not leaving you out here alone.”
Keiran nodded, knowing better than to argue with her. Walking back now would be foolish and with the sun setting, Netherstorm was about to get very, very cold. He looked around the area; they needed some shelter to hide them from any wildlife that might happen by at night.

“Over there, by that outcrop,” he pointed. He went over to his ray and gently tugged it along until they reached the place where they would stay for the night. “A fire would be nice, but that would make us too visible out here.”

He sat down with his back against the rock and motioned for Evara. “Lean your back up against me,” he said, holding his arms out. “We’ll keep each other warm by staying together.”
Mirin returned to the base with leaden feet. Beside her, Makhaal limped along, leaning heavily on her. The rays bobbled behind them. The sun was setting over Netherstorm and thankfully they were not too far from the base when they had been attacked.

Medics rushed forward to take Makhaal who was still weakened. Mirin was certain if he would live through the night. With a heavy heart, she followed the medics to the casualty tent and stay beside his cot the entire night, ignoring the gentle urgings of the attending priest to get some rest herself.

“No, I won’t leave him until either he wakes or he leaves me,” the last was said with a choke. “Tell the Commander that we were attacked by an orc that we know works for the Burning Legion. We killed him, but he was heading in the direction of the Stormspire. You should look there.”

She turned back to Makhaal. All the waiting for him to return and now, he might very well die in a few hours. She closed her eyes against the tears and prayed to the Light to spare him.
“Lean your back up against me, we’ll keep each other warm by staying together.”

Evara nodded as what Kerian had said made sense. Still, she felt a little odd leaning into him, even if it meant helping them survive the cold night. She settled in and after a moment, leaned her head back against his chest. The disparity in their height made it easy for her to tuck into him. A little too easy, she thought.

“Let me know if you get too uncomfortable,” she said quietly.

He was completely enveloping her, she could smell him, feel his warmth and the hard planes of his body, feel every breath he took. At first, she didn’t think that she would be able to sleep; she was sitting up and leaning into a night elf in a position that might suggest that they were more than friends.

She was wrong. Wrapped up against him she relaxed. Soon her breathing relaxed and her head tilted to one side as she drifted off to sleep.

Cianna followed Holdwater around the area towards the forges. Beneath her she could see the workers finishing up for the night. On their way out, Holdwater had explained that there were crews working to slowly dismantle and destroy the forges. It had taken a long time and they still had a ways to go, but this way there wasn’t any threat of the forges being reactivated.

Other than the workers, there was nothing out their way and the two headed back to the base. They had the shortest route and were soon back at the base eating dinner in the mess hall.


“No, you are not going and that is final!”

Gavin gritted his teeth. “This is a military base and if we need to head out to kill some demons, you can be certain that I will be there!”

“I said…”

“I heard you,” Gavin interrupted with a snarl. “What you do not understand is that is not up for negotiations. There is a price to be paid for being the wife of a commander and this is part of it.” With that, he stalked out of their house and took a turn around the base to cool off.

Narayne watched him go, her eyes narrowed. She would make him pay for that—he shouldn’t choose something else over what she wanted. She would think of something, she assured herself as she got ready for bed. Something that would make him understand that he needed to listen to her.

Morning broke over the horizon, illuminating the dull purple rock and with it, Evara and Keiran had not yet returned. Gavin sent out search parties in an effort to find them. He also sent his scouts out towards the Stormspire in light of the Shattrath party being injured or missing. He knew that he needed to speak to Cianna about it, but figured that she already knew. He found her standing outside the building that she and the others had been given beds in, staring out into the wastes.

“We have sent search parties out to look for your friends and to check the area around the Stormspire,” he said stiffly. He turned to leave, but stopped. “We also need to talk.”

“Now is as good a time as any,” she said quietly.

The purplish gray rock spread out in front of her and the sky was filled with thousands of stars. Not far away, the rising dome of Mana Forge: Ultris sat imposing in the darkening sky.


“Why did you…”

They both spoke at the same time and stopped. She turned and looked him. He didn’t look entirely happy; pain and confusion etched his face and she felt sympathetic.

“You first,” she said quietly.

“Why,” his face turned impassive, “did you stop answering my letters?”

“I answered every letter you send me, after a while, they just stopped coming,” she sat down on a rock.

“Stopped? I stopped writing because you said you didn’t respond,” he gave a small negative shake of his head. He wasn’t going to get into the letter that had supposedly said that she had found someone else.

“Was there an issue with the mail getting sent back and forth?” she folded her hands in her lap. She was willing to consider the possibility that the mail was sent, but simply had not arrived. Gavin’s attitude on the matter was becoming combative and she didn’t care for it all.

“No one else had an issue,” he locked his jaw and his features grew cold. “Why did you send a letter calling off the engagement?” He hadn’t realized just how raw a wound this was until he spoke the words to her. “I had sent word to you to get ready to be brought out here. I had sent money for your passage and made arrangements to meet you at Falcon Watch. I…” he let his voice trail off as he realized that he was becoming frustrated. Frustration wasn’t going to do him any good.

“I didn’t receive anything from you telling me that you wanted me to come to the Outlands, let alone money for passage,” Cianna looked entirely unhappy. What had happened?

“And now I am hearing stories that you thought I was dead?” He wanted to look away because her expression indicated to him that she was telling the truth and right now, he felt like he should be angry.

“Presumed dead because you had disappeared for a few months,” Cianna reached down and pulled her bag into her lap. “I thought it was strange that…”

“Strange? I’m not dead!” he hissed.

“Well, obviously,” she counted to ten in an effort to remain calm. She was normally a relaxed and serene person, but Gavin was getting worked up and that was feeding her own unease. While she knew that reconciliation between them wasn’t going to happen, she wanted to get the matter of what happened between them straight.

He snorted in response.

She pulled a worn letter of out the bag and handed it to him, “Here, if you don’t believe me.”

He snatched the letter from her hand, feeling a bit guilty when she flinched. He felt cold when he read it, and even colder when he realized that he knew who had written it. While he could not read the name scrawled across the bottom, he did recognize the handwriting.

“It seems that the rumors of my death are exaggerated,” he said quietly. He looked up at her, his green eyes dark with suppressed anger. “There is something that I need to check,” the pieces were falling into place and he finally knew where he needed to start looking for the truth. He held up the letter, “May I keep this for the time being?”

She nodded.

“Why do you still have this after all these years?” he held up the letter again.

“When I got it, there wasn’t much information and I knew that one day I would come here to try and figure out what happened. That letter was the only piece of information that I had,” she made a helpless gesture. “It took years before I had the means to get here…” she trailed off with a shrug, not adding the obvious, ‘and now I am here.’

Gavin sighed and closed his eyes. Cianna hadn’t given up on him and wanted to find answers even when she thought that he was dead. He hadn’t fought when he was told that she was breaking it off. He should have gone back to Eversong Woods and demanded an answer as to why. Instead, he had just curled up inside.

“Cianna,” Gavin pressed his lips together. “When I thought that you were not coming and left me, I… took another wife.”

That revelation didn’t hit Cianna as hard as she thought it would. She had thought that he was dead all of those years so that was mild in comparison. She simply nodded. “I understand.”

“Commander, we found them!” Gavin’s reply was cut off when one of his soldiers called.

Cianna gave Gavin a small smile. “Time to go,” she said. “It was good to see that you are well. Truly, it is. And I am happy for you.”

She turned and left before he could say anything else, although her final words were like a knife in his heart. He watched as she stepped towards the gates of the base where the other party members were being brought in.

Gavin stood still for a moment, then followed, heading towards the command tent. Inside, he found that it was empty and he immediately went to Narayne’s desk. He tore through the drawers of the desk, the accompanying cabinet and finally into a wooden chest. There are the bottom was a bundle wrapped in cloth. Pulling it up, he unwrapped the bundle and came up with a group of letters that he had written to Cianna.

They had been sealed when he had given them to Narayne to send on with the rest of the mail. They were all open now. The money for passage that he had placed in the letters was gone and a dull memory surfaced of Narayne wearing a new ring—an expensive ring that she said has been bought for her by a family member. He now had his doubts that that was true.

He opened a letter and read what he had written all those years ago. Slowly, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth when he thought about the intimate details—extremely intimate details—that he had put into these letters to the woman who should have been his wife. The words that spoke of soft caresses and of past times in Eversong Wood where they had made love. It was all he could do not to crush the letter in his hand in anger.

He placed the cloth back in the bottom of the chest and replaced everything on top. The letters he placed in his cloak; he would see that Cianna got them. He would confront Narayne about this later, once the threat of the demons was over.

Keiran sat quietly as Evara settled against him. It would be a cold night with only their cloaks to cover them, but it would not be insufferable. He glanced down at the top of Evara’s head, she was close enough that he could smell her hair and the intimacy of the situation wasn’t lost on him.

“You smell really good,” he murmured in a low voice. The temperature was dropping and he pulled his cloak around them both, wrapping his arms around her. Soon he could hear and feel her breathing slow down and knew that she was asleep. Leaning his head back against the hard rock, he fell into a light sleep, only to be woken every so often.

Morning came and he gently nudged her awake, thankful for the uncomfortable rock bed. Otherwise he might have been tempted to stay there a while longer.

“Let’s go,” he said, “I am certain they are wondering where we are.” The two elves started back to the base, the nether rays were trailing behind. It wasn’t long before they were met by a scouting party from the base.

“We were attacked and the ray injured. We spent the night out there since we didn’t want to travel in the dark,” he nodded to the wastes before smiling at the soldiers. “It is good to see some friendly faces.”
The small band of scouts from the military base soared past the Stormspire. They were intent upon the two previous demon camps that were laying in ruins near it. After the first pass, they had information they needed. They swung back towards the base with the information to ready an assault. Word was sent to the Skyguard and Shattrath. The Ruins of Farahlon was filled with demons.

Draavik arrived late that morning. He had traveled all night to reach Netherstorm after word of the bombing in Blade’s Edge reached him. With him were several member of the Sha’tar.

“Evara! Commander Dawnwalker! It is good to see you both!” the tall Draenei boomed as he walked towards them. “What news have you for me? Blade’s Edge was quite the victory! Now, tell me that we are close to locating the nest here in Netherstorm!”

“Our scouts found demons at the Ruins of Farahlon. We are making preparations for the attack,” Gavin said. “We will be able to leave tomorrow at first light.”

“Very good,” Draavik clapped his hands together. “Once again, the Legion shall fall!”

The Next Morning

The Ruins of Farahlon loomed before her. All around were rushing soldiers and snarling demons. Above the Skyguard provided aerial support. All in all, it was controlled chaos as they slowly made their push up the mountain.

Demons fell at her feet as she swung her blade. Light sparked and sizzled around her, igniting the ground and her armor while burning the flesh of the demons who scrabbled at her. Small cuts riddled her exposed skin as she fought her way up. From the left someone was calling out orders. To the right, someone screamed in pain only to be cut short as they fell.

Ahead of her she could see a break in the line. Behind that line had to be whomever was in charge. She could see them, glowing green and barking out orders. That person looked vaguely familiar to her, but at the moment, she wasn’t in any position to try and remember who. She would know soon enough, once she reached him.


Around her people moved. Metal hit metal, men cried out in pain, demons screamed in agony. She moved in with the group as they made their way up the path. Light flowed around her as she spoke prayers of healing. Gavin’s men had formed a barrier around the healers, ensuring that the demons would have a very hard time trying to reach them.

As the push went forward, Gavin found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the fighting. He knew that Cianna was there, somewhere in the sea of people and he knew that she might not make it out. Certainly more than one letter would be written in the coming days to explain to family members that their son, daughter, mother or father had died. He pulled his thoughts back to the present and pressed on, yelling out orders, encouraging his men and roaring a battle cry that was echoed across the battlefield.
Narayne stood at the door of the command tent, her eyes narrow as the soldiers made their way to the Ruins of Farahlon. Gavin was with them, leading the way. He hadn’t stayed behind with her as she had told him to. He was with her… Cianna… and Narayne needed for him to understand that his duty should be to his wife first. Let his second in command take care of the demon assault.

“Tavinilar, see that my husband gets this,” Narayne handed the steward a folded note. “Wait about an hour, then take it.”

“Ma’am, I am not certain that I will be able to get through the lines! What is this for?”

“Just do as I say or else I will see that you are relieved of your station!” she snapped, pulling a cloak on.

Gavin would certainly regret leaving her, she thought as she made her way out of the camp and into the wilds of Netherstorm’s back country. She would show him how much he needed her, by the time he showed up to rescue her he would be out of his mind with worry and never leave her behind again.

Tavinilar watched her go, worry etched in his face. He waited the appointed hour and then took a nether ray to front. The fighting was incredible and as he gaped at the events unfolding below, he didn’t see the fel cannon taking aim. He fell from the sky, tumbling to the ground where he lay unmoving, his neck broken from the fall.

In the back wastes of Netherstorm, Narayne waited. The sky had grown darker signaling the coming of night but Gavin had not shown up. Narayne oscillated between anger and fear. Where was Gavin? What was he doing? Was Cianna with him. She gave a frustrated growl and slammed her hands down into the ground where she sat.

“Where is that man!” She shouted, the immediately realized her mistake. She was deep into flayer territory and they did not take kindly to visitors.

A soft rasping noise and a low growl came through the approaching gloom—Narayne backed up into a crevice and prayed that whatever was out there didn’t find her.
Keiran still ached a little from his fall, but nothing was broken. His shoulder was bruised—although it was difficult to tell—but that was the worst of the damage. He brushed off the medics and moved outside to where Evara stood with Gavin and Commander Dawnwalker. She was correct in her assessment. He was not going to be left behind.

The sound of fighting filled his ears. The cries of men calling out challenges and the snarls of demons answering them. Keiran swung his axes slicing a neat path through the demons as they pushed their way up. Ahead of him was a wrathguard, a full head and a half above the others. Keiran charged him and buried his blades deep within the thing’s chest before it had a chance to even react.

Roaring in fury the creature swiped out against him, knocking him back. Undeterred, Keiran swung his axe down in at a slant, a move designed to sunder the thing’s armor. Having opened up a decent crack the second axe followed, buried itself into the creature’s flesh. Pulling back, Keiran swung again, this time dropping it.

Ahead of him he could see Evara cutting her way through the demons as the assault moved up the Ruins. Beyond her was the man who was responsible for it.
The push against the Ruins of Farahlon had been made. Mirin was not with the group as they made their assault. She sat quietly on the edge of the bed where Makhaal lay unmoving. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she reached forward and took his hand in hers. She stroked the back of it and whispered a prayer. It would be awhile before she could use the Gift of Naaru again.

The healers had done their best, working diligently through the night fighting the corruption that had been planted in him. Whether they would prevail or not remained to be seen.
The waves of demons parted and Evara ran up a small embankment. Ahead of her was a blood elf, his hands lit with fel energy. His skin was drawn and had a greenish cast to it, his eyes blazed a sickening green. With her were four wrathguards, all of whom stepped up as the blood elf broke through the line.

“Evara, it is good to see you again,” he spoke calmly, as if they were having tea at a cozy little inn rather than in the middle of a fight.

“Lassiter,” he was someone that she would have rather have forgotten. Intelligent and cunning she had no problem seeing that he would be the one behind this.

“Are you here to see me usher in a new era for the Outlands?” he looked behind her as more people broke through the lines. “You could have been my consort if only had been willing. Is that why you are here? Have you changed your mind.”

Evara shook her head no as two soldiers moved forward to engage the wrathguards. “I said no once and I meant it.”

A slow smile spread across his lips, making his face a cruel mask. “Do they know who you are? Do they know that you were a traitor?”

It was Evara’s turn to smile. “Oh, I was a traitor all right, but not to them…”

Lassiter’s eyes widened as her words sank in.

“…I was a traitor to you!”

She lunged forward past the wrathguards and called upon the Light to aid her as Lassiter roared in fury and rose to meet her attack.

Light flared around her feet and pooled on the ground. The power coming to her aid, answering her call. The ground smoked as Lassiter, filled with fel energy stepped upon it but the man was so intent in his rage that he didn’t seem to notice. Blades met, the sound of metal hitting metal—a harsh toll—melted into the sounds of the surrounding battle.

Fueled by anger, Lassiter struck out against Evara. She should have been at his side, rising to glory with him with the new coming of the Legion. The idea that he had confided in her the secrets of what was happening at Eclipsion Point and she had betrayed that confidence tore at him. He would beat her into submission and then… well then he would make her wished that he had killed her.
Keiran was near the top of the Ruins and he pushed forward until he broke free of the lines. Ahead of him Evara was facing off against the man behind everything and his guards. Keiran and several others pushed forward and engaged the guards.

Evara had engaged the blood elf who had the stench of fel energy about him. He had heard his words about Evara being a traitor, then his expression when Evara had informed him who she had really worked for. From behind, more of Dawnwalker’s men broke through and after slamming an axe into the chest of one guard, he moved forward to aid Evara in taking on Lassiter.

The fury in the man’s eyes blazed as Evara revealed that she had been a spy. Keiran felt more than a little concern that the man would do considerable damage to Evara in his rage, but he reminded himself that uncontrolled rage would be a downfall. He had not been prepared for the anger he felt when Lassiter had told Evara that she could have been his consort. Uncontrolled anger would lose the fight, controlling the rage was the key.

One axe bit deeply into the man’s flesh as Keiran cut a wound that would bleed. Lassiter did not seem to notice, so intent he was on Evara. The second axe followed with a swing cutting deeply again. This time, Keiran got his attention. The man spun and turned… which was his mistake. His guard down he was unable to block the axes swinging downward. Lassiter fell to the ground, his chest, shoulder and neck laid out by the axes. For good measure, Keiran swung down against the man’s back one last time, burying the blades deep.
Evara watched with great satisfaction as Keiran quickly finished off Lassiter. Lassiter had been a cold and calculating man and Evara had no trouble seeing him filling this role for the Burning Legion. She just wished that she had thought of it sooner. Lassiter was one of the memories buried back in her mind, locked away under layers and layers of more pleasant experiences.

She had run from her time in the Outlands for too long and if she had been braver, stronger, perhaps this could have ended sooner. However, what was done was done. She couldn’t change the past, she just needed to move forward to the future.

Around her the fighting was slowing as Dawnstrider’s men gained the upper hand. She looked around the area as more and more men broke off from fighting as the demons fell. It was over, they had won.

The next morning…

“Commander! We found her!”

Gavin ran lightly over the rocks towards his men. The medic was crouched down over a prone figure while another man was standing waving Gavin forward. The search had gone out when the men found the body of Tavinilar and with it a not saying that Narayne had run off into the wastes because she felt that Gavin was more concerned with Cianna than her.

Gavin recognized the ploy as one that had been used on him many times before. Why did he just not see her for the woman that she was? How had he become so blind?

While Gavin was upset with Narayne about lying to him about Cianna, coming in between him and her like that was unforgiveable, but at the same time, no one deserved to die like this. He came to a stop and looked down at the mangled but still recognizable body.

Cianna herself had been packed up and sent back to Shattrath by mage portal for debriefing. From there, she would be going back to the Eversong Wood. She took only a moment to say good bye to him before she stepped through. He wasn’t going to be able to go to Shattrath to see her off… particularly now with Narayne’s ‘accident.’ What was she thinking? Obviously, whatever it was, it wasn’t rational.

He, himself, planned put in a request for retirement. He had been out here long enough and Narayne wasn’t going to stand in his way… well, she certainly wasn’t going to now. His return to Silvermoon was long overdue and with it, perhaps, another chance… he let the thought slid away.

“Wrap her up and send her on to Shattrath,” he said turning away. “I will see to the burial arrangements in a few hours.”


“Let’s just say that she is probably better off this way,” Gavin looked over his shoulder. “She was a very ill woman.”

He just wished that he knew about it long before now.

Four weeks later, Gavin stepped through the portal in Shattrath that would take him to the Isle of Quel'Danis. He had not been sent to fight here all those years ago, rather, he was left stationed in Netherstorm to help oversee the clean up there. Now, as he descended the steps from the portal to the ground, he felt his heart lift at the sight of the familiar but long missed red and gold buildings.

Once on the ground, he inhaled deeply, feeling his memory stir and his spirits lift. Gone was the still, stale smell that was Netherstorm. The air was sweet with the smell of fresh grass, flowers, and the ocean.

He made his way to the flight master and paused for a moment looking out over the ocean. Silvermoon City was just a short ride away, he thought. He could not see the tall sparkling buildings, but it was there.

"Where to?" the flight master asked.

"Silvermoon," Gavin said. "Take me home."

Evara sat in her small apartment in Silvermoon City that overlooked the Bazaar. Voices filtered in through the open window with the cool breeze and smells of baking bread and coffee. She walked to the window and peered out, her mind not on the happenings outside, but on the happenings in the Outland.

The trip had not been as bad as she had thought. It made her realize that old wounds did heal. It also helped that she had someone willing to stand with her—a friend to help her. But then, she realized, the two of them were probably a bit more than friends. She thought back to the night spent in the wastes of Netherstorm and how it could have been something entirely different.

It had not been anything; neither of them were willing to cross the line. It would be a distinctly complicated matter.

She pulled out a letter that Keiran had written her and reread it, slowly scanning the last paragraph twice. It had just been a joke between them, although ‘joke’ wasn’t the correct term. She had thrown down a written gauntlet and he had taken it in stride and challenged back. When they were around each other, it was as if these final written words didn’t exist.

With a sigh, she put down the letter. Some things just needed to be kept on paper.
Keiran sat in his small house in Ashenvale reading a letter that friend had written him. It had been two weeks since he, Evara and Cianna had returned from Shattrath City and life in the beautiful forest was moving along as usual. No one here knew about the battle in the Outlands against the demons and he didn’t care to tell them.

He thought back to the final battle; the shock and anger he felt when Lassiter had spoken to Evara about being his consort. It made him realized that he wasn’t thinking of her as friend anymore and therein lay the problem. He pulled a letter that she had written him before they had headed onto Shattrath and turned to the last page, rereading the final paragraph… certainly, there might be something there. He wasn’t entirely certain if needed pursuing.

A knock at the door distracted him from his thoughts. He rose and answered the door, greeting a friend who had been keeping an eye on his house while he was gone. He welcomed his friend in and shut the door, inviting him to sit at the table and chat. He would put off examining his feelings later, for now, something simple was just the thing he needed.
Eight weeks later…

Mirin sat on a bench in the sunshine of Shattrath. She was dressed in a long white down and in her hand was a single lily. Behind her she could hear people moving around as they went about their day, talking and laughing. It was a very good day.

“I thought that there would be tears today, Makhaal,” Mirin said quietly as she gazed down at a small grave marker. “I always cry at weddings so certainly I would be crying on my own wedding day.”

She tilted her head to the side and let out a small sigh. “I feel at peace… I know… I know…” her voice trailed off as she felt a tear roll down her cheek. “Perhaps I will cry today, after all.”

She rose from the bench and sat down on the ground, placing the flower on the grave. She brushed a fallen tear from the flat stone and traced her fingers over the name written there. Finally, she leaned down and kissed it.

“Good bye, I love you,” she said quietly. “I look forward to the day that I will see you again.”

She stood and walked quietly away from her mother’s grave and joined hands with Makhaal as they went to say their vows.

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