| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - They were all filled with a single word, repeated over and over, written in a variety of hands, in ink and charcoal and other things she tried very hard not to identify: 'Maglasoch', she whispered.There was no indication of who or what Maglasoch was, but Cofaint's instincts told her they would not exactly be good news, given the state of the village.There was a faint rumbling sound behind her, and
|
