Some Sort of Strategy
Mintopua. The End of Autumn, 2405. (Part Three of Three.) “Ho, Baccio,” shouted Ottaviano. “What took you so long?” Baccio strode between a wagon and a tent to approach the table at which his friend, goblet in hand, stood. “Someone likes the sound of their own voice,” he answered. “Half the words used would have […]
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