| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - My mount groans, nudging the half-scored body of a young girl, she knows the sadness as all sentient beings yet a silent rage rises in her throat, controlled with the lash of her reins.I was once a soldier in service to our late Khan, the descendant of the great Khan Genghis himself, their family line now nothing but ash as such as my ride trudges through underclaw.
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