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The cleric rushed to the felled ranger, reaching into his pack frantically to withdraw the diamond dust he knew should be in there. One handful, two... not enough. As his hand scratched across the bottom, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Diamond powder, 100 gold, please."

The tall figure of the elven mage leaned over him, withdrawing a satchel of glittering dust from their stylized belt even as the clatter of coins faded in the still air. They smiled down at the cleric as a burst of gold shone from his holy symbol, enveloping the ranger in holy light as she gasped—breath returning to her lifeless body.

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