the Rift


[JUDGED] Forgetting the Greenleafs [Ashamin vs. Zunden]

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#1


ashamin
The Haruspex

Ashamin was in a rare good mood. Rare as of late, anyway. He could not forget the battle with the Bear God and the ferocious chaos that had consumed the scene. At the time he had somehow been able to tune it out, perhaps by focusing his Warrior's Spirit, but lately it had been all he could think about--all he could dream about. Every day had been haunted by nightmares of bodies covered in blood and the pure white of exposed bones.

And he couldn't forget the way his neck had burned.

But for some reason, today on this fine afternoon when he usually would have been fast asleep, he felt strong again.

The haruspex's heart beat with an urgency that he had never before been aware of--it was as if he could feel every electrical pulse running through his body, every ushering of blood from his chest through his veins and arteries. His scars felt sluggish, and his quickly bulking legs and chest ached in a pleasant sort of way. He felt remarkably alive.

He walked slowly, picking his way across the pine-needle covered ground and leaving tracks in the thin, wet layer of snow that had gathered the night prior. This close to the hot springs, it wasn't uncommon for much of it to melt away partway through the day.

Lochan was in reluctant tow, his every small step accented by pique-ish yawns as he flashed warm and familiar images of the haruspex's cave in Ashamin's preoccupied mind. He dragged his bonded's silk sarong behind him, dropping it with every exclamation of exhaustion but hurrying to pick it back up again, as if not wishing to be separate from it for long. But it was easy enough for the paint to dismiss his companion with a flick of a tail and a thought reminder: we're too far from home, this time.

Ashamin hadn't gotten lost, but he'd let himself wander and as a result ended up not knowing where he was. Typical. And just as he thought of perhaps finding a place to nap with his nocturnal companion, who still wished to sleep in, he heard the sounds of another nearby.

A few woven trails between evergreens later, at the pace of an easy trot, Ashamin found her. The source of the sound was a young mare with horns like a bull and a build like one, too; he'd never seen her before.

But she was young, and by the way she was charging at that tree, apparently spirited. The painted warrior perked up, bridging the gap between them silently and swiftly before speaking up.

"I admire your enthusiasm, it's a shame we've not met earlier. I am Ashamin," he commented in a cool, quiet tone before going on. "Perhaps you'd like to practice your skills against a Haruspex instead of a tree? I'll not be too rough, I promise. I ask only for your name in return," came his question, and easy and cavalier offer. He circled where he stood and trotted further away, stirring mist about his feet, offering her the first attack if she so wished with the language of his body. Lochan watched quietly from behind the Haruspex, but Ashamin gently extended his back left hoof to shoo his companion away. Lochan was still too young to fight.

As for so quickly offering to spar... it was a bit forward, perhaps, but Ashamin was having a good day. It would be a shame to waste it, when he could practice his skills and perhaps show a younger one a thing or two. Then again, the same situation with Rikyn had been an utter failure, hadn't it?

No, he wouldn't dwell. It was a good day.

__________________________


WC: 621
PC: 0/3
Timeline: 2 Weeks Between
Setting: Late afternoon/early evening in a copse of trees east of the hot springs. The weather is a bit chilly, but the warmth of the hot springs is carried on the wind and covers the ground in a thick mist.
Summary: Ashamin approaches Zunden in the forest and asks to spar. Lochan is present but on the sidelines, holding Ashamin's sarong. Ashamin is wearing his tesla coil.
Notes: Permission from Pare for Ashamin to find Zunden fighting a tree. Looking forward to it! Set before the meeting with D'Artagnan.


""


Image Credits


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zünden Posts: 75
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.3 :: Four [Birdsong] HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Pare
#2


Now that her leg was doing better the girl was ready to learn to fight. She felt as if there was some strong inner need to learn how to defend herself. Maybe it was because deep in her brain the thought of her father forcing Kiara to carry her, and Adelric, made her want to ensure that would never happen to her. Sure her mother was a weak insignificant being, but it was enough fear to make her do something about it. Zunden did not want to hate the father of her children, or keep them from him. It had been rough growing up without her own. She couldn't remember meeting Krieger until she was six months old. Yes, he had been there during her birth, but that hadn't been enough. There just hadn't been enough time with him. Maybe that is why she got all tongue tied around stallions. 'Daddy issues, how cliche.' She thought bitterly as she moved towards the hot springs. 'When I do have foals I want them to be raised by both of us, not just me.' She made the vow silently as dual colored eyes turned towards the sky. The girl didn't see her self settling down to one man though. They would just have to be in the same herd, so he could be there for their children, even if he wasn't there for her. 'I mean why limit the gene pool?' A soft chuckle sounded from her dark lips.

Shaking the thoughts of a family away the girl turned towards the trees. A grin spread over her features as she turned the tree to an enemy unicorn. Sharpened horns flashed as she slashed at the bark, dull excitement in her heart. She wanted to fight a real enemy, feel their flesh, bone, and blood. Frustration ruled out the excitement, causing her to charge at the tree rearing to strike at the bark. A quiver of longing surged through her agile frame as she landed; bark flying around her. It was as if the Time God heard her plea for a fight and sent a stallion. She turned slowly to face him; size him up. As gold and green fell upon his black, white, and red body a small smile fell upon her features. Her dual horned head tilted slightly to look at him as he spoke. Ashamin and Haruspex stuck in her brain. 'So he holds a rank. I guess I better play nice.' She turned her smile into something friendlier as her own voice floated out. "It's a pleasure Ashamin." She paused to dip her head low before speaking again, "I agree it is a shame we haven't met before now. I am Zunden, and I accept your offer." She smiled once more before taking note of his lanky frame. She assumed from his long legs and thin build he would be faster, but not stronger. He was slightly taller, but there was something about him that made her think she would be more agile.

She didn't really know how to go about starting a fight, not physically anyway. She was sure a few nasty words would entice him into action, but he was ranked, which made the girl bite her sharp tongue. So how was she going to start this spar? Her gaze moved over him quickly before glancing back to his small deer. There wasn't any need to worry about it. Adelric had one and he was a chicken. So it stood to reason, in her mind, that this one would be as well. Turning back to the stud she figured a head on rush might be her best bet. If she was stronger, like she thought, it would work. Maybe she could run him into the ground, take him by surprise with a direct move. The smile fell, replaced by a smooth mask of determination.Taking a deep breath the girl charged head lowered, eyes to his right trying to fake him out. If she could just get him to move left it would all work out. Her sharp twisted horns flashed in the evening light as real excitement mixed with anger roared through her veins. She hoped to slam into his chest, or at least cut down one of his sides, depending on how he moved. If he moved out of her reach she would simply rush past before turning back. If she made contact, well that would just depend on if he fell or not.
-----------------------
Talking
OOC; 1/3 attacks She charges straight at him looking at his right trying to make him think that is where she is going. She wants to knock him over, or if he moves out of the way, slice his side as she charges past.
I'm super excited for this spar! Good luck <3
Words/Tags; 749 @Ashamin
image credit
- table by Niki -
Superiority is my reason
Anger is my fuel
Blood is the cost
Victory is my prize
[Image: zunden_by_poolpaw-d8dwmp0.png]
Her horn isn't broken

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#3


ashamin
The Haruspex

Thankfully, Lochan dutifully obeyed his bonded's command and settled some ways away, peering out from behind a tree. And thankfully, too, this young soldier (or simply passionate tree-stabber) knew the value of respect. Ashamin remembered Rikyn's snide remarks all too well, and he was glad that at least one of the herd's younger members knew to respect those above them.

Then again, he wasn't sure he liked having such thoughts. Since when had he become above anyone? He knew his rank demanded respect, but did he? After all, with only one failed mirror reading under his ceremonial belt, what had he really done for his herd? And though the wounds had healed, he could not forget how Rikyn had thrown him down so readily into the mad mix of mud and blood. That spar had been solid proof that Ashamin still had much to learn, as far as fighting was concerned, and it had been a lesson in humility as well.

Still, Ashamin had hoped that spar would have humbled the racist upstart, instead.

Ashamin tried to shake the thoughts with his body. He lifted his red foreleg and let his hoof hang loose by the hock before placing it back in the mist and on the earth. He had to relax and stretch away the aches and pains of battle. This youth, Zunden, was apparently endowed with deference and bravery. He could distract himself with a casual spar and forget, for a moment, that an unknown god had nearly killed him and a herdmate had embarrassed him right on his own doorstep.

But maybe such humble virtue would serve Ashamin well. For when speech faded into action and Zunden darted forward, Ashamin was more careful and alert than ever before. He watched her colorful eyes, looking to the right, but shifted his gaze then to the angle of her back. No, he wouldn't fall for that trick.

After so many failures, he was finally wising up.

And with a rush of speed that outmatched his young challenger's, Ashamin ran delicately to his own right. He watched her charge into empty air and stopped short to make a quarter turn and swing his hindquarters right, so that he might face her left at a vague 90 degrees. He was faster than her, to be sure, and he could thank his lighter bloodlines for that. But though the Haruspex may have had the slightest bit of height on the young mare, he lacked any strength to hold against hers. Should he get too close, he knew he'd be in for a beating. His fights with Torleik and Rikyn had taught Ashamin to keep his distance, lest he wish to be mercilessly stabbed, and the similarity that Zunden's horns bore to those of the Bloodskald were not lost on the haruspex.

But he would do better, this time. Ashamin let his turn carry him as if his feet were hovering over the ground--felt his heart beating loud and electric in his ears, felt blood flow readily to every tensing muscle. His neck bent and his legs carried him closer to the mare with the barbed wire mark. He could do this, he just needed to breathe. He needed to breathe and get just a little closer, close enough that he could reach her and then pull away.

And so he brought himself a few quick steps closer to Zunden, reached out with flashing teeth to snap at her withers, and let his part in the spar begin.


__________________________


WC: 585
PC: 1/3
Summary: Lochan moves away, is standing behind a tree. Ashamin dodges Zunden's attack by moving to the right. Makes a quarter turn by swinging his hindquarter right to try and face Zunden's left at approximately 90 degrees. Makes a few steps forward to get closer, tries to bite her withers.
Notes: Sorry for the wait!


""


Image Credits


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Zünden Posts: 75
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.3 :: Four [Birdsong] HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Pare
#4


Life wasn't always easy, and this was one of those times that drilled that into her head. She had to try and be polite while kicking his ass. So, how in the hell was she supposed to do that? This was pivotal moment, this spar meant everything to her. If she couldn't win against him this might mean she wouldn't be cut out for the life she longed to live. How would Krieger feel, wherever he was, if she couldn't even beat a damn Haruspex! Shame filled her young heart as she thought of loosing to this scrawny stallion. She was brought out of her dreary thoughts by a sudden movement. Gold and green watched as the deer hid behind a tree doing as his master commanded; well she assumed. She watched the stallion for a moment as she tried to figure out how to attack him. Since this was her first fight the girl had no idea what to do. So she would just have to try her best, and wing it.

Then she was charging forward and to her dismay she missed, completely fucking missed him. And in her awesomely epic fumble she manged to step wrong and twist her right front leg. She squealed her displeasure as the pain thrummed up her leg. 'Dammit girl! Get with the fucking game!' As she stumbled teeth met her withers. She could feel and hear the skin rip from her shoulders. She screamed loudly as pain and blood erupted from her shoulders causing her to buck. It wasn't really meant to be an attack more of a way of fending him off. Not that she would bitch if her hooves caught his jaw and sent him reeling.

Throwing herself forward, with a limp, she made sure to get out of his reach before spinning around. Eyes found the black white and red stallion as she tried to think on her feet. She dropped her horned head suddenly trying to look downcast or seriously hurt, trying to trick him into letting his guard down. Taking a deep breath the mare jumped forward, just trying to get closer to him. Instead of charging forward blindly the young mare tossed her dome side to side. Maybe she could cut his legs or chest; without hurting herself this time. Anger and frustration pounded through her adrenaline filled veins. Her training with the trees had made it easier to work the muscles in her neck.

She had to do some damage to him this time, or this spar would defiantly go as she longed for it to. 'Fuck it!' Her eyes flashed as she reared, hoping to be close enough to hit him on the upswing. Even though her hooves weren't cloven they were still rock hard and sharp. If that didn't work she would try to slam down on whatever part was close enough to hit. A head shot would be best, or his side. Even if he turned she should still be able to hit some part of his body. She didn't see a need to run from him, it probably wouldn't have done her any good anyway. Since he looked faster than she was, it would have been a waste of energy. Sure, she had the upper hand in strength and maybe agility, but she had to make contact for any of it to matter. There had to be some way to overcome her inexperience. Maybe the bitch, lady luck, would smile on her this time. A snort ripped from her muzzle as she landed and braced for his counter attack. God of Time she hoped this wouldn't be a complete waste of time and energy. Why hadn't she gone to the veins to turn in the quest he had given her once it had been completed? 'That magic would sure come in handy right about now!' She thought angrily trying to watch his movements had keep from getting hurt even more.
-----------------------
Talking"
OOC; 2/3 attacks She sprains her right front leg trying to charge him. When he bites/tears her withers, she bucks up her heels, trying to either get away from him or kick him in the jaw. She runs away a bit then lunges forward and thrashes her horned head trying to slash his legs or chest. Then she figures it would be best to stay close and tries to rear up. She either wants to hit him with her hooves on the way up or on the way down.
Words/Tags; 663  @Ashamin Sorry it took so long and that it kind of sucks!
image credit
- table by Niki -
Superiority is my reason
Anger is my fuel
Blood is the cost
Victory is my prize
[Image: zunden_by_poolpaw-d8dwmp0.png]
Her horn isn't broken

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#5
[quote='Ashamin' pid='152883' dateline='1441803450']


ashamin
The Haruspex

No, Ashamin told himself, this isn't your fault. As her body fell forward with a sudden burst of clumsiness, presumably an effect of his out-maneuvering her charge, he felt the small fold of skin between his teeth rip. It was gravity's fault, nature's, the laws of physics', anything but his fault that the young mare's blood was suddenly bursting up to fill his nostrils and flood his senses. It couldn't have been his fault.

But as much as the haruspex told himself this, he knew it wasn't true. At the very least, he still blamed himself—he was good at taking the guilt upon his body even when it was battered and torn to pieces.

Only this time, he seemed to be struck with luck. Luck and her inexperience, that is. Her every move seemed too hasty in comparison to the slow skill he was building up. Muscles were bunching under his skin when before they'd been weak. His response time was quick; he dodged her buck with an easy low rear and turned outwards, away from her. When she stumbled forward, he doubled back. He felt old experiences—failed attempts to dodge Rikyn, falling to his knees from Caleb's aerial strike—return to him with new success. None of this mare's attacks were things he hadn't seen before. Those horns were like Torleik's, that desire to injure was near identical to Caleb's.

He was starting to learn the language of war, the vocabulary of avoidance and strike. When Ashamin dodged left, catching the tip of her flailing right horn on his right shoulder, barely scathed, he realized that this was what came with practice: simply knowing when to run, to bite, to kick, to give in.

The painted stallion listened to her cries and exasperation. He could still taste her blood on his teeth. It had been a moment of failure; Ashamin hadn't been in control enough of the moment to keep her injury to a minimum. But now he could try, could call out to her, tell her it would be alright. Someone needed to tell her to relax and breathe deeply. Someone needed to teach her as he'd been taught.

If he were ready, he would have been the one. But Ashamin was only just learning what it was to learn himself, and didn't yet have a handle on how to explain the complex process of quelling a pain-induced rage to a young mare. He, by past her attacks and trying to be positioned at her back, stood with just a scratch on his shoulder while she likely still bled down her back. Who was he to talk her down?

Still, he had to try.

Ashamin lazily bucked as she reared, trying to knock her back to the earth by striking the tender crook one of her gaskins. She had to be grounded before she could understand. There was something about having all four feet on the ground that did something healing for the mind on fire.

Slowly, he circled back around. It was a wide walk, one settling along her left side. Ashamin was not in a rush, and was nowhere near the deadly twin swords that she bore. He let his heartbeat leak slowly into hers. He listened to hers, likely pounding with effort, maybe skipping with the panic of pain. But they were just heartbeats, slim electrical pulses seeking out each other's magnetism through combat.  

The haruspex found himself losing sight of her name. Was she anything now but the girl with the blood on her back and the heat flickering from her nostrils, joining the mist that covered the earth in a bitter caress? Ashamin decided better than to risk getting it wrong. Carefully, standing parallel to her, he spoke.

"Relax. Breathe. Listen. Then..." he said, shifting subtly to the right as he spoke. There was a moment of pause before he went on, some time to breathe and consider. He couldn't dispense the advice without following it. He listened to the distant beating of Lochan's tiny heart racing with anticipation. Already, the companion was excited by the thrill of a spar. Ashamin let his black eyes flashing to grab hold of his target, and then continued at last: "strike!"

As he spoke he reared and jumped, his body curving to the right as he aimed to bridge the gap between them (shortened already by his delicate sidestepping as he'd spoken.) His long tail stretched out for balance, sending sparks shooting in the air—his body moved with enough force to hopefully crash into her left side and set her off balance.

But all the while, he was wondering: was she relaxing, was she breathing, was she listening, or was she just in pain? And still: was that pain really all his fault?


__________________________


WC: 800
PC: 2/3
Summary: Dodges the buck with a low rear and outward turn, runs past her by dodging to his left and her right horn scratches his right shoulder. He circles back around, stands parallel to her left, talks to her, then jumps/rears to his right to slam into her left
Notes: Sorry for the wait ;-;


""


Image Credits


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#6
Zunden defaults to Ashamin. Partial judging requested.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

Official Posts: 847
Administrator
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
Official
#7
By my verdict: ASHAMIN is the winner!

ZUNDEN
Realism [0]
You did good to compare the stat/breed differences between Ashamin and Zunden, but it felt just obligatory—there was no explanation to how these differences would help or hinder Zunden in this spar. I would have also liked to see more incorporation of the surroundings and how they affect the fight and the character.

P1: “If he moved out of her reach she would simply rush past before turning back. If she made contact, well that would just depend on if he fell or not.” – Try to shy away from this, because it can mess up the timeline. While it is not unacceptable to predict how your opponent might react, by putting the statements of what your character will do in regards to what an opponent might do can limit the opponent. This can even move towards borderline powerplay if you’re not careful!

In your second post, first paragraph, you get the timeline a little confused. You mention Ashamin’s companion moving away (which he wrote happened before Zunden attacked, which was your prior post), and also Zunden thinks about how she is going to attack him after she has already attacked. Be careful not to go too far backward when posting!

You mention that she bucks, and from what I understand, she wants to hit Ashamin’s mouth. That is not really plausible with the positioning, for he is perpendicular to Zunden and I don’t read that she continues to run forward.

Later, you mention that Zunden limps from taking damage to herself, but after that there is no mention of the pain she feels. In fact, she is able to run at and attack Ashamin without being hindered, which should not be the case if she is limping. A good battle writer incorporates how an injury affects the character, not just how it feels.

P2: “Even if he turned she should still be able to hit some part of his body” – You can write where Zunden is, but not Ashamin! While she is rearing or turning, he could have run clear off, you never know! Use language of intent, not certainty.

Emotion [+0.5]
I really liked reading the first paragraph in your first post, where there is some explanation as to why Zunden will be fighting today and in general. It gave me some deeper understanding as to why a non-warrior ranked character like her would spar.
Later in post one, you say that as she begins the spar she feels a mixture of excitement and anger, but there is no explanation of where the anger came from. I was left confused and yearning for more—and you still had 51 words left over! Post two, in contrast, was rather dry and heavy on action.


Prose [+1]
P1: “the girl charged head lowered” – Either missing a comma or extra words: “with her head…”

P2: “She had to do some damage to him this time, or this spar would defiantly go as she longed for it to” – This is confusing. I am not sure if you meant she “definitely” wanted the spar to go a certain way or not. I am also not sure if the outcome of the spar would be “defiant” of how she wants it to be. Either way, be careful how you word your sentences and make sure you have the correct word where you want it to be.

:: “trying to watch his movements had keep from getting hurt even more.” – “To” instead of “had”.


Readability [+0.5]
Your first post was easy enough to read, but your second post was much harder. The second post not only held more typos, but I had a hard time grasping how Zunden was moving and attacking. I struggled through the second post, having to read it three times completely, to understand it—and even then I was still left a little cloudy in what exactly Zunden’s movements and attacks were.

On a side note, I think you should watch how you structure your posts according to your writing. For example, you bold and put thoughts between ‘’, but you are not consistent with it. While this does not affect your score, it is just a suggestion from me about your coding and how it translates into your post.

Finally tally: 42=(2*2)= 46 HP


*******************************************

ASHAMIN

Realism [+2]
P1: “foreleg and let his hoof hang loose by the hock” – Hocks only exist on horse’s hind legs.

:: “He watched her charge into empty air “ – While Zunden did have a critical miss, be careful how /you/ interpret it—because she can write something completely different.

:: “he brought himself a few quick steps closer to Zunden” – Try to use language of intent, not certainty. “He tried to bring himself…” or something along those lines would be much better!

P2: “It was a wide walk, one settling along her left side” –Again, use language of intent.

Overall, I think you have a good grasp for attacks and the movements of horses. Be careful when you use anatomical language that it is correct. I thought you translated the dice damage well into the damage you took, but I would like to see the damage described better. I understand that Ashamin’s injuries are minimal, but there was no description of the pain he felt, or how they would affect him throughout the rest of the fight. I would have also liked to see better incorporation of stat/breed differences and the surroundings, both of which can play a large part in how spars run.


Emotion [+1.5]
I loved Ashamin’s thoughts in the opening of the first attack post regarding respect, humility, and his role in the herd. It gave some good insight into this character. In his second post, I liked him trying to talk Zunden down, and his thoughts over her pain and injuries. Overall, however, I felt there could have been more expression of emotion inwardly, rather than just stating it. I want to feel Ashamin’s emotions, not just read that he is thinking or having them.


Prose [+2]
P1: “And thankfully, too,” – No need to begin the sentence with “and” when you have “too” later.

:: “But though the Haruspex “ – Drop the “but”. But and though are synonymous. Also try to avoid starting sentences with "but" or "and".

P2: “He, by past her attacks and trying to be positioned at her back” – Bypassed? By passing? I am not really sure what you mean here, but currently it is awkward and reads incorrectly.

:: “by striking the tender crook one of her gaskins” – of one of her gaskins

:: “Ashamin let his black eyes flashing to grab hold of his target” – Flash back/toward/etc. instead of flashing


Readability [+1]
A few of your sentences were hard to read, but especially in post two. I had to reread a few sentences over again (not including the ones with errors) to truly understand what was happening.

P1: “Ashamin let his turn carry him as if his feet were hovering over the ground--felt his heart beating loud and electric in his ears, felt blood flow readily to every tensing muscle.” – This sentence read a bit awkward. I would suggest breaking this up.

Finally tally: 53+(5.5*2)= 64 HP


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