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A Thousand Deaths
You were a bloodthirsty warmonger. Conflict was your bread, and carnage was your wine. You carved a path laden with corpses and entrails, all to feed your insatiable hunger for conquest. Your followers thousands strong, all fierce and loyal. Kings tremble when they hear your name, and peasants dare not utter it. A curse, a plague, a scourge upon the world. That was what you are. But that wasn't just it. No living or dead were spared from your atrocities. Your victory banquets were filled with...
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