Wolfgrimm stared at his reflection in the convex mirror. He grabbed hold of his cape, undoing the clasps. He chucked it down onto a chair, letting it hang off the backrest. Fighting a war in a cape would be a bloody nuisance to him. Growling, he cracked his neck and then grabbed his sword, making his way out of the room, on his way to burn down Frinnor.

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