Overdue Business

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Log Info

  • Title: Overdue Business
  • Emitter: Cryosanthia
  • Characters: Cryosanthia, Jinks, Seyardu, Mikilos, Strike, Merek, Stjepan
  • Place: A07: Lower Alexandria Market District
  • Time: Monday, June 21, 2021, 10:33 PM
  • Summary: Various people run into each other in the Lower Market. It is the return of long absent Jinks and Strike, with the gnome engaging in humorous conversation while the half-mul'niessa avoids most and listens in. Street Sage Merek shows up, offering insights, and Seyardu laments her difficulty with clothing. The ones she recently bought were faded and threadbare, perhaps affected by the same spell that nearly killed her. Standing too close to the Sage can have that effect. Cryo and Mikilos discuss colour blindness and how that would interact with sharing memories. Merek lectures Cryo on how memories can be shared; in case Salina left something out during her decades of owning her. Cryo demonstrates her Anygarment sleeves, and then discussion turns to the Shards of Animus, and the latest troublesome one, the Death Orb at the mines. Conversation swiftly becomes unpalatable as the gnome jokes about making babies and it hits a sore spot for a few. Everyone disperses.

-=--=--=--=--=--=<* A07: Lower Alexandria Market District *>-=--=--=--=--=--=-

Just west of the Northern Highbridge and east of the arena, commerce blooms. Noisy and bustling, most anything may be purchased here for a price. Vendors from all cultures sell their wares from exotically colored carts, and the smells of different nations and far-off city-states mix with local ones from Alexandria and its riverbanks.

For all its commerce, visitors are advised to keep hold of their purses. Even the merchants possess a certain, cunning look. Most are positioned at carts or stalls as opposed to a formal storefront, with trade here being mobile, and visiting from all parts of the world.

Though the quality of goods suffers here compared to Upper Alexandria, the options are more diverse. Too, the oversight of the Watch is slightly less, and during times events are held at the Arena, chaos abounds. After dark, the square becomes a hangout for bards and other entrepreneurs whose business is best conducted by night; the shadows at the edges of the square often contain furtive figures engaging in their own brand of business.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Jinks        3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
Seyardu      5'6"     150 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint.
Mikilos      6'8"     180 Lb     Dawn Elf          Male      Tall male dawn elf, rosey blonde and handsome.
Strike       5'11"    155 Lb     Half-Elf          Female    A dusky grey half elf girl in grey and black clothes.
Merek        5'10"    215 Lb     Human             Male      A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.
Stjepan      8'0"     534 Lb     Giantborn         Male      Big, blonde jotun.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  NPCs of Note  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Aehrick                          Khazad            Male      A purveyor of poor quality Artific(e)ial Armatures
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It's evening, still warm, still still, and still humid. The sky is grey-black, moonless and starless. Encouraging non-humans to be out and about and get up to things, although plenty of people without dark adjusted eyes are about, carrying torches. There are even a couple Alexandrian Guards.

A Sith'makar is moving through the lower market swiftly and with purpose. On her shoulders is a youngling, riding on a her backpack, leaning into the travel. She dodges around the people out at night, the entertainers and the shadow merchants.

A mild commotion draws more than a few curious glances of passers-by; a soot-stained dwarf in leather blacksmith's apron mumbling defeated protestations as one of two watchmen put him into manacles. The second member of the watch inspects a cart of goods, picking up a convoluted, multi-jointed brass limb for examination only to have it fall apart and clatter noisily amongst its brethren. "-- quality wares!" the bearded craftsman complains.

A loose crowd disagrees with hushed mutterings of 'grift' and 'scam' joining the half-formed peas-and-carrots of the lookie-loos. It's all interrupted by a collective gasp as the dwarf tries to make a run for it-- immediately tripping and tumbling over his own leaning sign. 'Aehrick's Artific(e)ial Armatures' seems to be closing prematurely this evening.

Jinks was watching a stone's throw from the whole thing, giving a sharp bark of a laugh and clapping his hands in amusement when the dwarf goes ass-over-teakettle.

Mikilos tucks his prchase into a pouch, turning away from the stall and glancing over the crowd before stepping into the flow of traffic. A familiar face catches his view, though it's typically not so close to eye-level. "Little Fang! Hello!" The dwarven commotion draws a bit of attention and a disapproving frown. Low quality products?! A capital offense to the Builder's thinking.

Seyardu had been, yet again, looking into shopping for clothes. It was a surprisingly involved process when one needed clothing made for scaled and tailed folk, and lacked any way to discern most of the colors used in them. It had taken much of the evening before Seyardu left one of the buildings with a bag in one hand, walking straight into a sudden commotion outside of the tailor's shop.

"I do not understand. They could not have not seen what would happen with what they made, yet they still try to sell it?" The sith'makar notes, looking confused. Were they trying to take advantage of people, or simply over sell what they were capable of?? If someone needed a replacement limb, it would not do to have it fall apart so easily. Dangerous, even.

For her part, the constabulary's activities offer little entertainment, but still a mild distraction from Strike's thoughts. She busies herself with a fire roasted dinner on a stick, washed down with something from a beaten flask as she leans against a stall not far from the spectacle

"Mikssos!" Little Fang calls out, attention dragged first to the arrest and then to her name. She grabs one of Ssassa's horns to steer her towards Mikilos. This is effective, causing Cryo to turn and run into a table outside the 'Releaf Tea Cafe'.

The whitescale stops with a grunt. She's practically snout-pointed at the Dawn Elf now. "Mikilos. Peace on your Nest. You were shopping? This one could have picked it up. You should have let me know."

Cryo is watching the arrest now too, and nudges a greeting towards the silverscale as well, "Peace on your nest, Seyardu. The simple answer is, yes. Perhaps they hoped someone enjoyed repairs."

An unlikely case.

"Quite enough of that, I think." A grumpy watchman scolds, scowling under bushy, salt-and-pepper eyebrows. He bends and collects the dwarf by the manacles' joining chain, grunting with effort lifting the villain back to his feet. A wave of a hand and a cautioning nudge with a truncheon is enough to get the cowed craftsman trekking towards the nearest watch house with a loose bit of applause at their back.

The second guard picks up the fallen sign and drops it into the cart with the rest of the junk. She mutters something about the junior always getting the shite jobs before taking up the carts handles and wheeling it behind her the same direction the other two have already left. No applause for her. No justice, either.

Jinks sighs wistfully at the evening's free entertainment ending, turning and craning his neck to scan his surroundings. The emerald brooch of a coyote's head flashes when it catches the lamplight as he fishes a sterling flask from the inside of his coat.

Mikilos smothers a chuckle, Lily getting a little too good at steering the whitescale. "Came for a walk and some air, the shopping strictly secondary. What are you two up to?" A polite nods to the silverscale, and another frown at the dwarven charlatan. "Continues to maze me how much effort people will put into hawking shoddy products, and how many people will accept them to save a few copper." A flash of emerald catches his attention (quality product, that) and he blinks at the bearer. "Jinks! Havn't seen you in forever and a day. What have you been up to?"

Strike shakes her head and takes another bite of dinner, arching an eyebrow on sight of a Sith of some acquaintance, perhaps, but it's been quite a while and their meetings have been largely peripheral.

The tiny child on her head though... what she's come to understand of parenting would have led her to expect the tiny lizardling to be more a pale blue than a pale red.

"I still do not understand, but it is still what it is." Seyardu sighs, frowning now. "Peace on your nests, Cryosanthia and Lily. I hope this day finds you well." The sith'makar adds, nodding back to Mikilos. "I have been searching, and struggling to find some more things to wear. Whatever happened the other day, those clothes I purchased should not have been threadbare so quickly. I believe it may have had an effect on the fabrics used, as well."

Jinks freezes midstep at the sound of his name. A masterfully craft statue of supreme guilt. You can almost watch the fight-or-flight response war for supremacy in his tiny frame before you blink and the smug smile returns to smother the world around him. He even stops to take a long draw from the flask before turning to look Mikilos up and down, his eyes narrowing in careful consideration. "I was killed and damned to a decade of torment at the hands of terrible, unknowable forces." He offers in a sing-song voice, winking and dismissing the explanation with an easy laugh. Perfidy. "How have you been... mmmm, hm..." He tilts his head to the side before adding with the rising infleciton of a guess "... Rrroland...?"

Merek will walk along and to the district with his dark attire on to take the time to find a few things to buy. He does notice that people he knows are about, a nod wave to Cryo, then a look to Strike and waving, then he takes a look about the place and nods to Mikilos.

Merek also waves to Seyardu!

"This one is finished at the Explorer's Guild tonight, putting journals away. The afternoon was pleasant. We did things." The whitescale tells Mikilos casually, looking around. Another coyote-head, that's noteworthy, then she hears his tale. She stares. Oh. "You should speak with Merek."

It's not the best thing to say, but it is the first thing that enters her mind. "And there he is. About the torment."

Little Fang meanwhile, twists Cryo's horns a little more, her Ssassa rotates on the spot, putting the youngling nearer to Mikilos. She brings out a mechanical crab from the backpack to show him.

"This one suggests the magic sleeves again, Seyardu." Cryo adds, "they hold up well. Fabrics suited for soft skins do not play well with scales."

Strike blinks and considers, in addition to the identification put forward by the elf, a face she hasn't seen in close to a decade. She steps away from her support, arcing in a loose spiral around Jinks and his friend as that becomes a new angle of consideration. His tale of woe sounds similar to hers, actually. She almost misses the wave, returning an almost absent one of her own, then, she observes from her new vantage.

Mikilos nods seriously to the gnome. "Visiting family. I understand." He grins at the mistake. "Mikilos. Roland is the minstrel. I've been busy with my magic shop, bit of adventuring, saving the city, changing the world. Same ol same ol."

Nodding to Cryo, he raises a hand in greeting to Merek.

"I can make you garments, the magic kind," Merek will note to Seyardu, while he nods a bit, "Pretty cheap too!" The man then will take a look to everyone else while he thinks about it. He nods then to Cryo and Jinks, not sure what to make of the conversation, then to Strike, "You been doing alright?" he will ask.

"Some impressive accomplishments for a tallman," Jinks concedes with a tilt of his head. Another swig and a little cough has the gnome tucking away his libation. His black eyes twinkle with moisture as the heat of the drink dances up the back of his nose.

He looks over at Cryo, "Your kinds' talent for taking the joy out of a lie is unparalleled. But 'only a Sith deals in absolutes,'" he recites. He sniffs and pushes a thumb into the corner of his eye. "Is Starshamb still around?" He asks of Mikilos, committing a war crime as he butchers the other Makar's name.

"You did mention magic sleeves before, but I did not know exactly how they worked." Seyardu nods. "It was hard to find clothes sturdy enough, and already made to fit a tail through. And somehow I managed to get some that were in a decent color by some manner of luck." Seyardu notes, returning the wave to Merek. "I do not know if I could afford something like that. But it is worth looking into, as I hear magical objects resist effects like that much better, too."

"What?" Cryosanthia blinks at Jinks, confused at something she's never heard before, nor understands. A glance towards Mikilos, a small nod, "Right. Family."

She stares at Jinks some more, her ear-fins spreading up then folding down against the side of her neck. "Sunblade Svarshan? Yes, he still serves the Dragonfather in his Alexandrian Temple. This one has not spoken with him in a while."

"You imagine what you wish to wear, Seyardu. Or find something you like and imagine you're wearing that. It gets better with practice. Observe." The whitescale spreads her arms to either side, arching her chest forward with a more-blank-than-usual lizardy stare at nothing. A blue fox appears on her right sleeve, embroidered. It walks up the sleeve in a jerky, animated fashion. It jumps an inch or so each time, legs changing position and head looking around. The stylized blue fox bounds across the snow sith's chest and down her other sleeve, vanishing at her left wrist.

Upon reflection, perhaps it was a blue coyote. "They're worth the price, Seyardu. Very much so."

Mikilos frowns mildy at Jinks, taking a few moments to translate. "Ah, Svarshan, mmm, I've not seen him for a few months now. He's been busy with his younglings, may have returned to Am'shere as they grow. I havn't heard details." He considers. "Quite a few folks retired or moved away. Not exactly the most peaceful place to settle, long term."

Merek looks then to Jinks, while he seems to think about it, then he nods along to Seyardu, "Aye, what she said. It's, not expensive at all, any Adventure who's made any money at all can probably afford it, so look into it, and to note it is cheaper than even trying to buy it from the market." The man adjusts the scarf which he wears, "I like mine."

There's a lot of nostalgia being stirred up in the market, today. Strike's focus on the distant gnome and the palescale is sundered by the sudden inquiry from Merek. She blinks, consiering things a moment before, with a certain grim satisfaction, explains her long absence with, "I've taken care of overdue business."

"Ah, yes! You showed me that before I believe. I did not know the specifics of the function." The sith'makar nodded as she squinted even more to focus on the movement. Though, she grew a bit crestfallen as a thought crossed her mind.

"I do not know how well they would work for me, however. would it make everything I wore into a shade of gray, if that is what I see? Or would it be able to discern if I wanted something to be blue, how would the specifics be determined? I do not know. I would not mind something like that though Merek, though the specifics seem worrisome."

"Or, yes, his younglings." Cryo faces Mikilos, then Jinks, "he may have left for them."

Her youngling peers over her shoulder. Very small and pink-scaled in colour. She watches the gnome intently, like he might explode. It's not a friendly gaze. Should he notice she points at her eyes. She's watching him, oh yes.

"Well," the whitescale crosses her arms, "Maybe? That's almost an existential question isn't it? Can magic clothes create for you a colour you both can't see or comprehend?"

She straightens up a little, her sapphire eyes sparkling and a smile curling at the edges of her long mouth, she glances at Mikilos, "We could set up an experiment! Somewhere I won't have to be naked in public, you can try mine. Oh! We could share memories after, I can show you colour."

Another question for Mikilos, "that's possible right? to share an experience even if the other doesn't have the mental apparatus or context to interpret, or does it become forced through their sensory knowledge?"

"If I showed Seyardu a memory of blue, would she see blue or silver?"

Merek looks then to Cryosanthia and nods a bit to the woman, "There is magic and rituals which will allow for communication of memory. That would work, in addition if you can imagine something in your mind, it can be whatever you want, it might not look exactly like we picture it, though if you try to discern what the color might be. There's a lot to color, and it's more than simple memory, I am sure you will do a lot that's great. I will make the time to prepare for making you one if you so like so you can work with it!" Then he waves to Lily, taking the time to watch the place, and gnome. "Merek," the man offers as an introduction. With that offered to Seyardu in explanation, he seems content to listen.

Mikilos frowns thoughtfully. "A magic item can be crafted to do things you can't do yourself, such as show 'blue' even if you are colorblind, though would be a set shade of blue. Comes up now and again for thermosence camoflage. As for shared memories, I'm not sure. Think would depend on if one doesn't see blue because of how the eyes work, or because of how the brain works."

"That's the name," Jinks nods, tapping a pointer finger at his nose and then pointing between Cryo and Mikilos. "And the understatement of a lifetime," he adds after Mikilos' observation on the region's volatility and dynamism. "Two lifetime's for some." He's distracted briefly at the displays of fancy dress and self-consciously adjusts his coat. And then his eyebrow is threatening to fly from the top of his head when he hears an ominous phrase like 'overdue business.' But he doesn't pry. Instead he hums a bar or two and meets the gaze of the little pink lizardthing. It takes a moment to find what he's looking for but then he pulls at the air, twisting the Hymn in his fingers and producing a pulsing pink orb. His opens his mouth subtly and the note takes on a purer form; a lilting, lazy trill and the orb takes the rough shape of a small humanoid child perched on Jinks' shoulder mimicking the juvenile sith'makar's own perch on Cryosanthia.

"Perhaps, it would be an interesting experience. I would not mind having some, if only to make clothing less of an issue." Seyardu nods, looking between the assembled group. "If there was frame of reference, that might work. It would be a good idea to see how they work before commiting to having some crafted, though. But if you are willing then Merek, it is something to look into."

"I do not know for certain, however. If it it is just my eyesight, or something else. I have never gone to look into it. Seems as if lots of people here have been through much, though."

Cryo looks at Merek like she's been told she was a Sith'Makar all along. She nods slowly, "Yes. This one... will tell you how it goes, and Seyardu will let you know if she wants a pair."

Lily doesn't notice Merek's wave, she is watching the gnome. Gnomes do bad things! She has that on a good authority whom she has no reason to distrust. Goblins! Artificer goblins! The little pinkscale stares as the small man manipulates... a song? Into colour? Which then becomes an even tinier person? Her whole world collapses. She has a small wrench, she holds it tightly as she is watched by the orb. "Iss Death Orb?"

"No, it's... not. The Death Orb is something else." The whitescale says, making a mental note, do not discuss adventures in front of her so often. "Perhaps we can pick out a few shades of colour, so they wouldn't always be grey, instead grey plus something. And... we have not discussed how the colour is not seen, just that it is not."

She grins, nodding at the final observation, "we have, though nothing matches the tragedy of the relatives."

Strike has had... longstanding issues in need of resolution.

The halfblood Mul watches Merek flit about the market, person to topic to person. She isn't certain at this point if she should press into any particular conversation at this time, though knowing Jinks is still around is... somehow comforting. Instead, she backs off to scan the crowds, seeing if there is the potential for work, tonight.

Merek nods a bit to Cryo and to Seyardu, he seems to be thinking, while he waits. Then he waves to Strike, and takes time to begin adjusting the scarf which he wears while looking to people, "Anyway apologies. I always like to work on projects like that."

Mikilos frowns absently. "I should find out what's happening with the so called Death Orb. Materials were being fathered to renew the Pact, but I've not heard anything recent."

"It is alright, I understand the enthusiasm. It is much like when I found out that new scrolls and tomes were brought in on trading caravans." The silver sith'makar chuckles. "Though you will have to wait to do any work, if you could look into it more, it would be appreciated, Merek."

"Ah, I have heard mention of this pact, a few times. Often times in regards to things going on at the adventurers guild. Business discussed at a less open area though, I feel."

"I don't know how to conjure any Death Orbs," Jinks laments, glancing up and back at the glowing pseudoform resting at his shoulder. He thinks a moment, staring off into the half-distance. "No, no Death Orbs. That would be a thing, though, wouldn't it?" His smile takes on an edge as he contemplates some revenge or another. He clears his throat and waves a hand through the light, dashing it apart in a wash of rapidly fading, pastel sparks.

"Lars forced Braelnoir to help him, with that play." Cryo says, shaking her head slowly, "There's been a bunch of things. Searching for documents, getting a book from Ecclesia."

The whitescale looks at the silverscale, "It's one of those big evils I told you about."

Downwards, at the Gnome, "It's public knowledge. There are fragments of Animus appearing, and a scavenger hunt to get the pieces of the dead god and do something with them all."

"They had pamphlets advertizing."

"AH!" Lily stands suddenly, holding onto Cryo's horns again. He just killed his child! Gnomes are The Worst!

"The Death Orb is still out by the mines." Cryosanthia adds, "It's safe enough to look at. There are ropes. Go closer past the ropes it dominates your mind and makes you run up to it, then it kills you. Spells, might make you fountain blood out of your everywhere. It's been asking us to 'Renew the Pact'."

She exhales and looks at Mikilos, "We should, enough time has passed something bad has got to be ready to happen."

'Death Orbs'?

What's been befalling the city while she's been... away?

Never one to enjoy being in the dark, Strike takes a swig to finish washing down dinner after discarding the skewer, but listens to the conversation thereof in the meantime.

This may be something she has to get involved in. If she's lucky, there won't be any sewers involved.

Nor being caked in three different being's viscera.

Mikilos frowns mildly. "Seems the sort of thing that should have more than just ropes. Nice solid wall with a few spikes, maybe."

Stjepan strides down the street towards the pub, arms swin-- there are a lot of people in the street here. Familiar faces.

"I thought it was an Alexandrian sense and survivability test." Cryo replies, "'Don't go near the thing that easily kils you'.

Merek looks along to everyone while he thinks about it all, he doesn't know what to think, he nods a little bit to people.

"Depends on how obviously reachable the orb is. Wouldn't want a curious person or children wandering near to something like that. As long as it's guarded, I understand. Making sure people don't try to go near it is the most important thing, how that is managed could vary." Seyardu offers in reply. "It does sound dangerous though. Not everyone has the sense, or can be easily swayed."

"We can always make more children," Jinks responds offhand to Merek, glancing his direction and smiling wide. "That is the fun part, after all." He's joking, probably, but it probably won't help Gnome/Sith-whelp relations either way.

Mikilos ehs. "The making is fun, and the part where they start forming properly conjugated sentences is fine, but the bit between with the diapers and the crying, not so great."

"This one does not wish to discuss making offspring with softskins today." Cryo is a little touchy on the subject currently. There are reasons. Lily stares at her, she stares back.

Lily says, "What wass, killed?"

"Illusion, like my sound and lights, just better." There's always someone better, for Cryo, it's just about every other mage she's met. "The Orb isn't close, Seyardu. It's at the mines, and there is a contingent of uninquiring guards surrounding it, as I understand. It's a very aggressive piece of Animus."

Should anyone curious wish to go look at a Dead God.

Merek looks perplexed by the conversation, "Can we talk about something else?" he asks, the man then looks along to the sky in thought, "Ah, well. Interesting," he seems to notice things that no one else does, what it is, well there isn't a real easy answer to that, then he nods along to people.

Stjepan slows down -- he can almost taste the tension, so he starts looking for a street vendor. Those satay skewers are delicious.

"I do not know how it reached this, but yes, I feel it is not worth pursuing further. I am glad it is kept safe, at least." The silverscale sighed. The callousness was starting to bother her as well, joking or otherwise.

She fumbles a bit, trying to think of a change of subject, and failing. Instead, she shook her head, and looked into the bag she brought with her.

Strike is less interested in the discussion of abortive propogation than she was about these 'Death Orbs', but it seems that well has been played out. The half-Mul considers her options for some time and with an absent, blanket wave over her shoulder, she descides to seek out the Guild Halls. There might be more afoot, something she can find a pattern to before it blows up in her face like the zombie chilli.

Jinks laughs and holds his hands up in defeat. Not so much an apology as acquiescence. "Well. Coyote laugh with you," he nods, raising a hand a Mikilos before ducking towards the Fernwood. He has the grace to wait a few paces before taking up a bawdry tune in Gnomish popular with his Happy Valley cousins.

"Yes. Of course." Cryo says, having nothing else to talk about. Having not planned to be talking about anything at all. She looks upwards as Merek looks up, then Seyardu. Soon everyone will be. There's nothing there. Head in the clouds indeed. She adjusts the straps on her Haversack and nuzzles her cheek against her carnationscale youngling. "You're getting heavier. A lot larger."

A short exhale, a glance at Mikilos, "This one is heading back to your place, will see you if you wish." She looks around, making a general wave,

"Peace on your Nest, Seyardu, Mikilos, Merek, others." Strike was missed. She doesn't know the half-elf well, and it's been a while.

"Peace on your nest, Cryosanthia, Lily. It is always good to see you." Seyardu replies, giving the whitescale a sharp smile. She wasn't really looking for anything in her bag, other than a distraction. "I take it you are planning on heading out, in which case, I will leave you to that. Take care, then."

Merek nods a bit to Cryo, and to everyone else that made a way along, "You be well." Thinking about it, "Peace on your nest." The man takes a look to a few of the shops while he thinks about it, "I will probably like to fish in a while. Would anyone like anything delivered?" he asks.

"That's all right Merek, thank you. I get mine at the docks." Cryo says, waving as she heads off. It's one of the few payments she gets, she's not about to give it up.

The whitescale with the pinkscale rider slips off through the market, heading home.

"You likely know already what I am going to say, Merek." The silver sith'makar chuckles. "Send off your excess food to the Althean temple, since they are always welcoming donations of food for the meals they prepare daily." Seyardu offers with another grin. "I hope the fishing will be fruitful, and not just with the hopes that will mean more excess for the temples."

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