Chapter 9 The Forest and the Fisherman

If the fate of two realms hadn’t been hanging in the balance, I would have paid a hundred gold pieces to watch a Prince of the Abyssal Tides try to walk through a misty forest in knee-high, mud-colored rubber fishing boots.

Squeak. Thud. Squeak. Thud.

"This footwear is an instrument of psychologic...

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