They, Gamaaloth men, your kind, Your Highness, are strong, capable, and good men. We're fortunate to have protectors as strong and kind-hearted as the Gamaaloth men.
— Deputy of healer clan in Newside
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A tall Gamaaloth man dressed in a long, dark cloak stood imposingly in the doorway, his hands firmly planted on his hips. His piercing gaze swept across the gathered patrons.
"Aren't you all supposed to be at work right now?" he demanded, his voice booming and authoritative.
"Who are you?!" one of the startled patrons retorted, eyeing the newcomer with a mix of confusion and defiance, unaccustomed to such interruptions during their leisure time.
"Aish, such rebels, daring to challenge me," the newcomer muttered under his breath, his irritation evident as he placed his hands on his hips.
His gaze swept over the crowd, stern and unforgiving. "I feel like knocking some sense into each of your heads!"
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