Torin was making his way towards the market square, lost in thought. Suddenly, a loud scream pierced the air, followed by the sound of a struggle. A crowd gathered around a small alleyway, where a man was kneeling over a body, his face marred by pox pustules, eyes glossy and unaware. The crowd parted in hysterics, realizing that the man was infected with the Dark Curse. "I'd start running if I were you," he said, glancing over at you. "Unless you care to be our friend's dessert," he grinned.
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