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Chapter 2 - The Legionnaire

Started by Kilivin
Post #87940

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Daggerfall Covenant
Prologue & Chapter 1 - Humble Beginnings

Chapter 2 - The Legionnaire
3E, 286 First Seed: Arnilius galloped through the great forest on horseback. He rode a pure white stallion that was his father's horse which was named, Kolstheir. Kolstheir had scarred legs & appeared very war-ridden. Even for the horse's old age, he was a fine steed. Though not as fast as the black horses of Cheydinhal, he was a mighty & powerful horse. The many scars upon his chest marked the failed spear thrusts against this mighty horse. As Kolstheir galloped through the woods, Arnilius ducked and weaved underneath the branches lower to the surface.

Arnilius was making his way to the Ayleid ruin of Wendir. There were rumors of strange activities there from the inn at Skingrad. These rumors had Arnilius think that the conjurer from four years past had appeared once more stealing corpses from the graves in the surrounding areas. It was this that motivated Arnilius to ride forth to this ruin in an attempt to put an end to this lich's reanimation of the dead. In his pride, he also felt there was honor in slaying this lich. This is not to mention a great sense of duty to his family for the events of the past. As Arnilius made it upon Wendir, he was struck by its beauty, even in ruin.

Upon dismounting Kolstheir, Arnilius approached the ruin in awe. Arnilius wore a full suit of chain armor with leather fittings, a medium sized tower shield which was strapped to his back, and a long and deathly sharp steel sword at his hilt. His helm was that similar to a legionnaire's helm, but it had no plume and covered his face entirely. All that could be seen with it equipped were his green eyes and some strands of his hair gracing the back of his neck. Under this menacing mask he knew there was fear in any that would be his foe, which bolstered his sense of pride greatly. It was forged by Frederick Moslin's older brother; an aged smith working in Skingrad by the name of Falner. Falner even crafted Arnilius' longsword which had carvings on it that Arnilius could never read, but Falner teased each letter to him from time to time. All that it read for Arnilius at this point was 'The.'

During his slow inspection over the ruin's majesty, he slowly moved next to a fallen pillar and strode one hand across it as he walked by with his other hand on the hilt of his sword. During this, He heard two horses making there way to him, and turned his head seeing Cecilia & Azafar weaving their way through the trees leading up to the ruin. He grasped his helmet by the rivets separating the skull cap from the ear guard and removed it slowly; placing it top the fallen pillar to his side. He then sat on this pillar as they approached, and looked up at the great structure of Wendir with a gasping look upon his face. They both moved to dismount their chestnut horses, Hurin & Illeth, and approached Arnilius pulling back their hoods.

Azafar wore his father's old initiate mages guild robes with gloves and boots made of leather. He also had a long wooden pole which was no more than a fancy looking walking stick. He had very sharp features in his matured age. All to follow with dark eyes & dark silver hair which was longer than that of Arnilius'. Cecilia, on the other hand, dressed far more provocatively; revealing cleavage & the front side of her smooth legs with an uneven skirt. She did this to both mock Arnilius & tease Azafar, who was affectionate to her by this time. Her hair was far longer than when she was younger, and it was just as dark as her brother's hair - if not darker. She also had a hooded cloak which had the colors of red and auburn to match her clothing.

“Now, isn't this a sight for song, The Emperor's Child staring in awe at Ayleid ruins. How poetic.” Cecilia said mockingly on her approach. Arnilius ignored this distasteful greeting and returned his words to Azafar, “I'm glad you made it well Azafar, I see you took my advice in acquiring your father's old robes.” Arnilius' voice was deep but clear; if not intidimatingly so. Azafar, preferring silence, merely gave Arnilius a nod in thanks to his kind words. Arnilius, after turning his head back to view the ruin, took his helmet by its rivets once more and put it upon his head.

“We must make haste into Wendir. If what innkeeper Darrick said is true, time is not something we have the luxury of taking.” Arnilius said this while standing up. He then proceeded to make his way up the stairs of the circular structure with his companions behind him. After a small decent they reached a door which was opened with ease, but it was closed shut after they entered.

Upon entering the ruin, Cecilia was about to cast an illumination spell down the stair infront of them. However, she was stopped with a signal of Arnilius' hand when he spotted an undead walking out into view from behind a pillar aimlessly. It had no clothing on, but from the possible decades of rotting it could not be told whether it was male or female. Its shoulders jutted out as bones where flesh had fully decayed, and it had no bottom jaw or hair on its head. It groaned as it roamed the flat portion of the stair down but gave no indication that it knew of the three's presence.

Without a word, Arnilius unsheathed his sword slowly into his right hand & grabbed the shield from his back; both held with firm grasps. He moved to the dead corpse at a silent slow speed but increased his speed just a few feet from the corpse into a charge knocking the zombie over on its front. As it struggled to slowly get up, Arnilius pressed his foot upon its middle back and struck its head from its body with a stroke from his left shoulder. No blood came from the corpse, but it ceased any attempt to stand afterwards.

As the others approached, Arnilius kept his foot on the corpse and turned his head back to his companions half-way and said in a low-tone, “We don't want this to get back up. Burn it.”

As he continued down the steps with his left side facing forward, flames could be heard from behind him from Cecilia & Azafar. After a few moments, they caught up with Arnilius at the bottom of the stair. He was overlooking a large empty room that had multiple pillars evenly spaced among it. In the center of it all was a table with nothing on it that he could see from his position. As soon as the others reached him, he said with urgency, “Stay here and cover me from up here.” He then sheathed his sword and shield then crossed over the railing and dropped down the small balcony. He then pulled his sword from his hilt once more, but refrained from taking out his shield at this time.

As he walked towards the center of the room, Cecilia & Azafar watched anxiously. They scanned the room time and time over; making sure to be ready if anything were to happen. As Arnilius approached the center of the room, he looked from right to left feeling that he was being watched in the deathly silence. He kept his sword out from his side with the tip of it just off the floor. Upon reaching the center of the room, he looked upon the table once more which was empty. Suddenly, the walls dropped at the sides of the room which was followed by a dozen deformed zombies and skeletons with large silver clay-mores.

Arnilius calmly took his shield from off his back in preparation of the upcoming battle; letting out a deep breath to calm his hands. Azafar shouted from above, “Arnilius! There are too many, get out of there!” Arnilius turned his head up at this then took a moment to think. He pulled out a pouch from his side and poured the oil it contained onto his sword then held it up in the air; expecting one of his two companions to light his sword aflame. Azafar, disagreeing with Arnilius' pride in battle stayed his hand, but Cecilia could not see her brother be slain so she cast a flame upon his sword. With a smirk under Arnilius' helm, he slowly walked to his first undead foe, which he cleaved the zombie from shoulder to side before it could land a strike which set the zombie on fire afterwards. One of the skeletons then swung his claymore over top Arnilius' head, but Azafar blasted the skeleton to the corner wall before its blade connected.

Arnilius then went from zombie to zombie cleaving each of his foe so that if it were to rise again it would be in two flaming parts. All the while, Cecilia and Azafar were focusing down the skeletons with their fireballs from the balcony above. After the small battle had ended, Cecilia & Azafar made their way down to the room with caution. Arnilius' blade lost its flame as the room grew to a freezing chill from an unsettling presence.

A voice then spoke out in a cold tone with a laugh preceding it, “What is this?! Proud adventurers thinking they can best me?” The laugh continued throughout the room and echoed into the heads of the three. Cecilia & Azafar tried to cover their ears in a faulted attempt to quell the deafening noise resonating in their head. Arnilius stood upright, his head shaking in an attempt to resist the pain the noise brought with it.

Finally, a lich appeared at the entrance of the other side of the room in a flash of darkness. It made its way slowly to the center of the room. The echo of his laugh ceased as he began to speak again; walking towards them slowly with an aura of frost resonating from his rotten flesh. His voice was rasped and gave a feel of death to the three, “I do not tolerate interruptions.”

Arnilius spoke out in angst trying to muster his courage, “As I recall from four years past, lich!” This shocked the lich even though it did not show on his mangled face. Without any further talk, the lich clasped his hands together sending out a flash of darkness which blinded the three. Azafar quickly warded, and Arnilius ducked behind his shield. Once the darkness faded, Azafar ran around to the side of the lich casting fireballs toward the lich's side. This occupied the lich who warded himself without even the use of his hands, but he returned this offensive with great shards of ice back to Azafar just missing him from Azafar's quick speeds around the lich to behind one of the pillars. During this, Arnilius got up from his crouched position and noticed two large shards of ice jutting out from his shield. He swung his sword over his shield and the icicles shattered off of his shield. Then, with a tremendous roar, he charged the lich with his sword out in an overhand position with his shield in front of him.

The lich turned to Arnilius and fired off another icicle into his shield. Arnilius continued his charge un-phased, until being stopped in his tracks by the lich casting a telekinesis spell on his body. This enraged Arnilius, but he couldn't resist the lich's firm grasp upon him. Azafar, seeing Arnilius' struggle, maneuvered the the flank of the lich and cast a sprout of flame to him when his ward was inactive. This made the lich scream out in a shriek throwing Arnilius backwards into a pillar; knocking him unconscious. He then turned to Azafar to fire off an array of frost to Azafar. The two were locked in the vivid colors coming from the mix of the two opposite elements. Azafar, being weaker than the lich however, began to feel his magicka failing & his spell began to weaken, giving the lich the upper-hand. The lich then let out a gut-wrenching laugh as his spell overtook Azafar who had fallen onto his back.

“Die now!” The lich bellowed out as he prepared a shard of ice in his hand.

During the battle, Arnilius had woken from his state of unconsciousness slowly until he saw that Azafar was losing. Upon noticing he was free to move, he quickly moved to his feet; pushing through his body's weakness and pain grasping onto only his sword. He then came up to the lich from behind his back who had just let out his final words to Azafar, and he grabbed the lich by the shoulder pulling him back onto his sword which he thrusted into his chest. The lich gave out a great shriek which was stopped when Arnilius quickly retracted the sword out of him. The lich slowly turned around hunched over to face Arnilius who span in a clockwise circle, eviscerating the head from the lich's body. The corpse of the lich then fell to its knees as the body faded away in a cloud of black.

After a pause to regain his senses, Arnilius sheathed his weapon and bagged the head of the lich. Finally, he walked over to Azafar and lent out a hand to help him to his feet. Upon Azafar's rise, he noticed Cecilia up next to a pillar with an icicle protuding from her stomach. His eyes widened, and he rushed over to her brushing Arnilius aside. Azafar slid to his knees beside Cecilia and was mortified; screaming out in tears at the sight of her.

Arnilius slowly turned seeing his sister in ruin. His heart began to race again as he moved quickly to her, kneeling at her other side. Noticing she was still breathing, he quickly rummaged through his pack to get a potion, which he nursed to her slowly. She was brought back enough to be able to open her eyes, but she could not speak in her pain. As the room warmed from the lich's death, the icicle in her began to melt. After being completely gone, Arnilius & Azafar quickly bandaged her wound when suddenly groaning could heard from the other side of the room.

A mass of ghosts, skeletons, and undead were slowly making there way towards them from the walls and entrance on the other side of the room. Azafar became enraged at the disturbance and turned to the horde screaming, “Let us alone!” He then cast fireballs in anger upon them, but no matter how many he killed, more followed. During this, Arnilius picked up his sister gently then gave a shout to Azafar, “They won't stop coming! We must go, quickly!”

The two then ran to the balcony where Azafar nimbly jumped up first. Arnilius then carefully handed Cecilia to Azafar and followed him up and out of the ruin. After exiting the doors, Azafar turned to Arnilius; handing Cecilia to him and spoke, “I am going to seal this ruin so that none may enter for many years to come. Those who do will have many of what we saw to deal with to be sure.” Arnilius nodded and took his sister to the horses where he sat her up on Kolstheir. He gathered rope from Kolstheir's pack and tied Cecilia's chestnut horse to his own. As he mounted Kolstheir, Azafar came out jogging and mounted his horse, Illeth. They rode for Chorrol, which though it was close to the Trunnen family, Arnilius had never been to before in his life.

As soon as they made it back to the rode, they turned their horses northwest toward Chorrol. They road fast to there goal without deterrence, but Arnilius & Azafar were nervous to reach the Chapel there for Cecilia in time. It was late in the day, and the sun was setting below the trees. When they finally reached Chorrol, The guard waved his arms to signal them to stop with a commanding yell, “Halt! Stop!!” Their horses stopped abruptly in front of the gate guard which forced him to take a few steps back to not get run down.

Arnilius then took off his helm, dismounted Kolstheir, and grabbed his sister, holding her in a cradled position as he spoke urgently to the guard, “My sister is badly wounded and needs to see whatever priests you have in Chorrol!” The guard, flustered with Arnilius' approach put both his hands up toward Arnilius saying in a calming tone, “Wow now, slow down. I can't let beaten and battered people into town on just good graces. What happened?”

Arnilius frustrated spoke with a panicked tone in what pride he had left, “I am Arnilius Trunnen, Damn you! My father is a Legate of the 10th legion and I plan to serve our emperor in days to come! Now let me through so I can help my little sister!” The guard moved back a step and placed one hand on his sword's hilt but refrained to unsheathe it speaking out again to Arnilius, “Sir, Calm down. All I asked was reason for this affair. What if this is some elaborate trick to get into Chorrol on less pleasant affairs? It would be my 'ead, now explain yourselves!”

Azafar got off his horse at this response in anger to approach the guard, but before he could speak, Arnilius turned his glance to him with eyes telling him to stay quiet. Azafar stopped at this and stood back in silence. Arnilius then turned to the guard and spoke in a more humble tone yet still rushed, “We were scouting the ruins of Wendir where we had heard of a dark conjurer. Upon facing our foe, my sister, one of my two companions you see here, was injured by a spell he cast. I beg you to let us through!” The guard, still a bit on edge from Arnilius' previous words, retorted back to him, “And why were you scouting the ruins of Wendir? Ayleid ruins aren't ones to go messing with - “ Arnilius then interrupted him mid-speech, “Please, I will explain everything to you after I get my sister to the chapel! Hells, I can write an entire report on the affair if that would please you!”

The guard then removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and nodded to them and spoke, “Very well, I will escort you to the chapel then straight to the castle for this report. I ain't losin' my 'ead for some random strangers coming into town.” In saying this, the guard waved his hand for the gates to open. He gave word to another guard upon entering to send word to the Count on their arrival. He then escorted them through the town of Chorrol straight to the Chapel.

Upon reaching the chapel, they opened the large doors when monks showed up to take Cecilia off of Arnilius' hands in a matter of seconds. Scurried words came from Arnilius saying, “Gentle, Gentle!” which was responded with humble nods by the monks as they took Cecilia. The two let out sighs of relief to have made it with Cecilia still alive. After a minute of catching their breaths, they followed the guard up to the castle to give a report on what happened at what was now night time. As they were walking up, the guard spoke to them in an attempt to prepare them, “The count is usually in bed by now. Your coming to keep him awake might mess with his head after the assassination of the countess. You two best be on your best behavior.”

They made it past the many guards that stood watch over the castle in Chorrol. It was not unfamiliar to Arnilius on how to treat authority such as the Count. He often had dinner with his father and family at the castle of Skingrad. This is not to mention the many trips to the Imperial City for only a dinner. This affair, however, was not one that could be talked over during a meal. It is in bad taste to keep a Count or Countess from their regular schedule, and Arnilius grew somewhat nervous because of this.

The doors of the castle swung open with many creaks in doing so. They walked up to the court room of Castle Chorrol, which they then saw Count Valga, an imperial, pacing back and forth with a hand pulling at the hairs of his chin looking rather nervous. He had white hair that was cut short to perfection; as well as a full beard with a mustache that jutted out as spikes. Once he noticed the two entering the room he turned his head quickly towards them with an eyebrow raised, shouting, “Why are there two armed men in full armor in the midst of my courtroom at this late hour?! Guards! Seize them!” The count's voice was shaky, but it was loud and resonated in the ears of Arnilius & Azafar. Suddenly two guards seized Arnilius and Azafar and pushed the backs of their knees in forcing them to kneel down as they bound their hands in irons. Azafar was shocked by this, but Arnilius remained calm as he knew something like this, or worse, was going to happen.

The count then took a few steps closer, pacing around the two who were faced to the floor with hands behind their backs. After a few moments, he finally spoke, “Two would-be assassins in my courtroom at night now bound and captured by my guardsmen. It would seem my enemy's methods of hire are rather insufficient!” He stopped then turned around to pace in the other direction, “Yet, in my caution I feel I have been remiss in my duties as a host to these two brave, young, would-be assassins. Tell me, why do you come with intentions so obvious to slay a Count in his Castle? Do you lack wisdom?! Hm?! Speak up!” He spat as he yelled over Arnilius' head.

Arnilius said in the calmest manor he could muster, “We're not assassins, your lordship. My name is Arnilius Trunnen, son of Valien Trunnen, a retired Legate of the 10th legion. We have no quarrel with you, but we have come to your fair town to seek out the monks at the chapel of Stendarr for our sister.” Count Valga took this response and lifted his posture from over top of Arnilius. He then turned around making his way to the throne while saying, “Well then, I see my enemy's assasins have good stories for their actions.” He then turned to sit upon his throne, “Do go on then.” He added, placing his hands together with elbows rested on the arms of the his chair.

Arnilius continued, “We went to the ruined temple of Wendir after hearing reports of a dark conjurer. . a lich your lordship. . who had been stealing corpses from the graves of the surrounding areas. Upon entering the ruin we found our foe and slayed him, but before we accomplished this he fired out an array of ice shards which my companion here Azafar warded, while I blocked with my shield. However, -”

The count, looking as if he were someone who deducted the answer of a riddle, interrupted Arnilius in saying, “And where is your shield now?” He spoke with a smug look. Arnilius then just realized that he had left his shield in the ruin of Wendir, and his words turned into a stuttered speech, “I do not know, I must have left it - “ The count then interrupted him mid-speech again, “Enough! I have heard enough!” Arnilius' head was then forced down by the guard next to him as sign for him to silence himself. The count then crossed his legs placing both hands relaxed on his armrests and spoke arrogantly, “I do believe your story has a false-hood in it, assassin. Not to mention I've never had much love for the legion anyway. . They took my only son from me in Uriel's pathetic attempt at playing conqueror. Guards! Throw them into the dungeon!” The gate guard then asked the Count, “What of the woman they were with?” The count, looking rather pleased with himself, spoke out once more, “Let the monks heal her to conciousness this night. She will be hung in the morning!” After hearing this, Arnilius became enraged, “No! We are not assassins! Damn you old man! My father will have your head for this!”

The count then spoke in a more soft and sarcastic tone disregarding the panic of the room with the guards forcing away Arnilius and Azafar, “And make sure no messengers get out of this. . Would hate to get a 'legate of the 10th legion angry.' “ He then broke out into a chuckle and laughter after saying this. As Arnilius and Azafar were being dragged into the dungeons, swears and curses could be heard from them from throughout Chorrol.

The two were finally stripped of their belongings and cast into separate cells. Azafar, being far more grieved by the affair, sat in silence looking out of the barred window to the moonlight above. Arnilius paced back and forth muttering words under his breath in anger. They both did not sleep the entire night, unpleasantly anxious of the events that would transpire in the morning.

As dawn finally broke into their damp cells, Arnilius looked up to the sun rising through his small barred window. It was quiet in their cells for over an hour. Both were mortified of what was to come. The door to their room swung open as a guard entered with four behind him. They gathered Arnilius & Azafar from their cells. Their struggled response was met by solid punches to the stomach knocking the air out of them. Their heads were bagged as they were dragged by each shoulder by the guards as they made their way to the castle courtyard where the gallows were. Upon exiting the castle dungeon, their masks were quickly taken from their heads. The two, beaten and exhausted, then beared witness to a woman with a bag on her head and bindings on her wrists being led up to a noose. Arnilius shut his eyes and looked away, which was met by the guard punching his stomach multiple times until he finally grabbed him by his hair and forced him to watch.

Azafar remained silent while his friend was being beaten. Tears began to form themselves in his eyes, but he refrained from letting his sadness be shown. The woman was then tied into the noose and the lever released the floor beneath her. After a quick jerk, her body became lifeless. Arnilius boiled in anger when he saw the Count watching from a balcony above. As soon as Arnilius' eyes locked on the Count, a glare was returned by him. He smirked at Arnilius and turned back to the inside of his castle. The two were then take back to the dungeon where they were tossed into their cells; their weak bodies hitting the stone floors hard.

Before long – dusk was upon them, their stomachs yearning for food that had not come. As night came Azafar approached the bars of his cell and called out, “Guards! We need food!” He repeated these words, but there was never any reply. Finally, Arnilius broke his silence in saying in a grim tone, “We won't be getting much food, Azafar. There are more mouths to feed in the court, and we eat only if they don't finish their meal. “

Azafar sighed in frustration and returned to his position depressed. It was silent afterwards, until they finally nodded off to sleep. They had dreamless sleeps, and neither actually slept on the shoddy bed that they were given. A door that lead into the room of their cells swung open in the middle of the night which woke both of them up. They heard footsteps then slowly approach both of them in their cell. A man finally came into view who was hooded and cloaked all in black. He had no others following him, and he came first to Arnilius' cell door. Suddenly, he heard someone picking at the door, and before he had time to make out who the man was, it swung open with a eerie creek. Arnilius got up and slowly walked to the entrance of his cell, and upon peering out, Azafar's cell had also been opened with Azafar standing at the entrance of his cell also peering out. As they looked at one another somewhat confused, the man who was at the entrance to the room of their cell called for both of them.

“Arnilius! Azafar! Come!” He said in a loud whisper. They both slowly made their way up to the hooded man and followed him through the castle past guards who were all knocked unconscious or killed. They finally made it to a door that led into a guard tower on the wall of Chorrol. They climbed the tower which was empty of all guards. Upon reaching the top of the tower, the hooded man pulled out a rope from his pack and tied it to a firmly placed flag pole on the top of the tower and descended the tower. Arnilius and Azafar then followed down one by one.

After making it about 100 feet from Chorrol's wall, Azafar spoke out to the hooded man leading them. “Where are we going?” The hooded man then replied in a whisper, “Quiet!” They began to jog through the forest under the cover of darkness until they came upon the stable behind Weynon Priory. At this stable were 5 men, one of whom was on an armored horse wearing studded imperial armor with two heavily armored legionnaires beside him while the other appeared to be a monk. The final one was Frederick Moslin who was talking to the man on the horse and the monk until noticing the three's arrival.

The group of three turned their attention to them on their approach. Frederick grasped the hooded man's hand and shook it and patted him on the shoulder with his other hand. Arnilius and Azafar approached confused what was going on which was met by the hooded man beginning to speak. “Here they are your excellency.” He spoke in a tone of respect to the man on the horse which was returned with a nod. Arnilius then retorted to the hooded man, “What is this? What is going on here?” He spoke with an edge from the events that had transpired. The hooded man then took off his hood and lowered his mask at which time Arnilius spoke out in shock, “Father?! What is all of this?”

Valien then spoke while removing his gloves from his hands, “This is in response to your prideful attempts at honor in substitute of your responsibility. The men that stand before you are Frederick Moslin, Monk Weyard Emeric, and General in Emperor Uriel V's legion, Tirelius Varian; along with his personal guard. Your actions have not only cost the life of your sister, my daughter!” He spoke out in anger then continued, “But also it has caused for an acceleration in your plans to join the legion in 3 months time.” Arnilius, shamed by this, spoke in a humbled voice, “What is to be done now then, sir?”

Tirelius then spoke in a commanding voice, “Now, both you and your friend are to join the legion to avoid inconveniences with Count Valga. Are you ready to take the oath? It is not like you have much choice as if you do not I will be forced to turn you in.” Both Arnilius and Azafar stood up-right and nodded with respect.

Tirelius then spoke out in a powerful voice, “Very well, repeat after me.”
He straightened his back and continued,
“Upon my honor I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor, Uriel Septim V and unwavering obedience to the officers of his great Empire.” Arnilius and Azafar spoke in unison repeating these words. After which Tirelius continued, “May those above judge me, and those below take me, if I fail in my duty. Long live the Emperor! Long Live the Empire!” They repeated these words back to the General, and even though the events passed were heart-breaking; they found some joy if not a small amount of pride in taking their oath.

Tirelius then nodded to them both saying, “Welcome to the Legion then Auxiliaries. You're expected for training in three days time. The Emperor is at war, and he doesn't want untrained soldiers in his great legion.” He spoke as he turned his horse around and walking off into the night with his personal guard to follow him.


Chapter 3: To War
This post was last modified: September 2nd 2013, 05:02 PM by Kilivin

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