[✝]Psalms 45:3
Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most mighty warrior, clothe thyself with thy glory and thy majesty.[✝]
[☨]The holy man looks in an unbelievably good mood, as if all ill will had bleed away from him like the life of
that monster he had taken down. No inebriating drugs to bring this cunning smile to his face as he wipes the last
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[Have ominous echoing footsteps as she creeps around
Who are they.
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BPH!
Aaahh Signore Auditore, and the.. young H..hrk!..holiness Alessandro. .. Please don't startle him He'll start bawling again!, he's quite... ahh.. sheepish.
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Whatever.
Are they going to stay here?
[Are those footsteps getting closer?]
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No. No, no, they're just awaiting the boy's sister to arrive.
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