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The orc chief stormed into the diviner's hut, "You said I'd have a son!"

She handed him a cup of tea; his arrival had been foreseen.

"You do."

"But.."he sputtered, "I was changing the baby's nappy and sh-- he doesn't HAVE... what I have."

"He IS the son the spirits foretold; they're NEVER wrong. He will grow up to restore pride to our clan."

The chief trembled, "Will he be strong enough?"

"If we all support him."

"Very well."

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