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AXEL I’m not sure how long Ragnar and I stand in the early morning light, the droplets of drew clinging to the surface of the forest that surrounds us. We are still as death, our faces masked to protect our identity. We are wary of our location so close to the werewolves but unable to leave as we wait for the sound of six different sounding explosions, marking the success of each team. Soon I realise that only four locations have gone off, leaving the fates of the two groups undetermined. “We better go quickly.” I warn fearful at our prolonged lingering. Ragnar’s head is bent in sorrow, “He’s dead Axel, my father’s de-” I see movement out the corner of my eye, a swirl of blackness – I hit the ground hard. The force knocking my sword from my hand. I scrambled at the ground for my gold