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Weekly Contest #366
The overhead buzz of the copper light bulbs starts to drill into Bross's head as he is barely able to focus on his paperwork. The small chairs barely fit his large stature. His grandfather once recounted to him the once great race of orcs that once ruled the plains of the south. Now here Bross was hundreds of years later: a musty, barely lit office space with only half an hour to complete his paper work. His boss, a gnomish man half his size, got on his ass for being a few minutes late to work. How was he supposed to know the royal guard wou...
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