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Lord have mercy, my skin has turned into steel.
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knights must die / gwayne hightower by vampsfyre and osytram
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Gwayne Hightower would never decline a call from duty.
Honor ran into his veins as a fluel. Perhaps he would refuse to sleep in the mud and the grass, but his sword was glistening in his sheath, always. He was ready to fight. Even when he did not want to be there, even intoxicated, even in fear, even when dragons began roaring the skies and spitting fire at his feet.
