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Eliot
"Eliot's nice," his brother had said. "You'll like him, Fawn. Trust me."
And so Fawn had set off to the bar. It was nearly closing time and he moved through the dwindling crowd, heading towards the bar. He was the spitting image of Fin, a bit slighter, his hair much longer. He also dressed far more casually than Fin, favouring tunics over robes.
Nervous, he took a seat at the bar and looked around.
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