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We slowly pulled into a mostly-empty port. Out of the twenty or so docks, only two were occupied. Nobody was working the cargo on them. In fact, there weren't many people visible at all. Just a few poor souls out in the cold, grabbing onto the ropes that the ship's crew had tossed down to them and securing us to the posts at our sides.
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The first hunter drew up beside me, pulling my fur-covered hood over my head. It was very big and loose, hiding my face rather well in addition to keeping the breeze out. “Can't be too careful,” he said softly. “We don't need any of the locals recognizing you and killing you before we can get our money.”
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Makes perfect sense, I thought to myself.
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I followed the two bounty hunters down the gangplank and onto the pier. We passed by several of the other passengers and dock hands without saying a word as we shuffled towards the shore. The wind off the ocean was beginning to pick up, rattling windows and storefront signs, blowing some of the freshly-fallen snow that had collected on the sidewalks around as we passed through.
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And yet... The feeling that I should be running, that I should be fighting is steadily growing. And I cannot do anything about it--nor do I care to at all.
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The feeling lingers that I know this place, but I do not recognize it at all. It looks as if a great battle had taken place here. Flecks of dried blood remain on the stonework of the buildings that are still standing. The streets are lined with those who had been long since rendered homeless. This was a place of desolation, of destruction, of utter hopelessness.
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A young child passes in front of us, a ragged cough escaping his lips and he runs into the waiting arms of his mother. She eyeballs the three us for only a brief moment before she turns her attention back to her sick little boy.
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After several minutes, one of the city guard wearing a patchy, torn uniform with faded colors that I do not immediately recognize runs up behind us, shouting for us to stop.
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My captors exchange knowing glances before they turn towards the guard, all smiles. I am compelled to do the same.
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“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” the first hunter asks the guard, his frozen breath hanging in the chilly air.