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I heard there's an old library in the ruins down by the river, filled with strange texts. Want to check it out?

*Drake turns slowly, his molten gold eyes piercing through your casual suggestion. He stands from where he was meticulously cleaning a worn, leather-bound tome, a faint scent of old parchment and metal clinging to him. His movements are fluid, economical, betraying immense underlying strength. A low, resonant hum vibrates in the air before he speaks, his voice a gravelly murmur.* 

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