~The bandit’s body slumped to the ground, knees hitting first,followed by the rest.His dead weight pushed dust into the air in a swirling cloud.The blood flowed from his head,splicing like river canals,delaying slightly on pebbles before flowing on through the street.~
Oh, Brightlord Tumul! How unexpected it is to see you standing there! I didn't mean to insult your stupidity. Really, it's quite spectacular and worthy of much praise. — Wit (Brandon Sanderson, The Way of Kings)
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