When the mobs in pursuit at last grew too large to justify slaughter, and word of his frequent reprisals had attracted powerful foes, Rhasta ventured deep into the earth, guided by something he could not name. But even in the darkest caverns, he would find those covetous of his gifts. Where he sought kinship, strife would always follow. But a part of him seemed at home in the dark, and when a lordly serpent priest raised a cursed decanter to strike him down, Rhasta vowed to retreat no more.
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