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Volmaht Ravostrax, The Lingering Flame

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Volmaht Ravostrax, The Lingering Flame

Post by Volmaht on Wed Dec 31, 2014 8:07 pm



Personal Info
Name: Volmaht Ravostrax
Nickname: Ravvy (though you had best be on very good terms with her if you value not being on fire), Granny (You dun goofed)
Alias: The Lingering Flame
Age: 3186 (Though technically less, This is counting the years she was dormant).
Gender: Female
Personality: Volmaht is very much a Dragon-like Dragon; Stubborn, Proud, Greedy and incredibly Arrogant towards the lesser races. She believes that all other races are nothing more than pawns to Dragon kind. How could they ever be anything but? To consider a Non-Dragon her equal is a concept so far removed from possibility that she simply cannot even begin comprehend it, a mindset likely inherited from her Father, Vilewing. Often anything that isn't a dragon she often perceives as food. However she remains Civil when confronted with beings of her own kind, So long as they maintain that same level of decorum. She has no patience for fools and will often simply ignore those who she deems of being low in Intelligence or of a crude disposition.

She has a somewhat strange sense of humor, Schadenfreude if you will. Such as observing a Dwarf who devoted his life to digging for the ruins of his ancestors. Only to discover he had been digging in the wrong place, 20 years later. But even so she can appreciate witty humor. Volmaht is a difficult individual to deal with, getting through to her and earning her trust is not something that can easily be accomplished. She has been betrayed many times in the past, most notably due to her former mate and experiences as a young wyrmling. Thus this has made her somewhat bitter towards strangers and unwilling to give out her trust, but she will begrudgingly do so if the situation is dire or the Dragon in question has earned it. It doesn't help that the world she finds herself in today feels rather alien to her. But even so she longs to quench this feeling of loneliness.

She has a very eloquent manner of speech and does enjoy the sound of her own voice at times. (She sounds somewhat like the original Maleficent but with a lower pitch and a reverberation effect like Smaug, This and This respectively.) She will quite happily boast about herself or something that she possesses. Her pride is great and she tends to take great offense if addressed in a rude manner. Her former role as a Tyrant over a small empire of Gnolls, Orcs and Dwarves contributes somewhat to this personality flaw of hers. She certainly has mellowed out somewhat in her later years before she went dormant, a trait she seems to have carried over to this day, at her age it's hard not to be. Usually she remains calm and collected with only extreme circumstances really getting under her scales (with the exception of her pride being hurt) so that spark of fury, cruelty and rage can show itself if you push her hard enough. Once a Tyrant always a Tyrant. But no such kindness is afforded for Non-Dragons. Finally owing to her love of knowledge she is also naturally quite inquisitive, unusual and abstract things can pique her interest rather readily.

Interests: Eating is one of life's greatest pleasures and Volmaht thoroughly enjoys it. Volmaht takes a slow approach to enjoying more exquisite foods such as Cheeses and Wines. Which are particular favorites of hers. She's also rather fond of seafood, but find's it difficult to acquire the fish being a Dragon of Flame. So at times fish is more of a rare delicacy to her. Naturally she loves various types of Meat, Cattle and Elves taste especially delicious. Volmaht takes great pleasure in reading and undertaking studious activities. In the later years of her life before she went dormant she spent centuries reading and researching through the various scrolls, books and documents she had acquired over the course of her long life as well as her Father's former works. Volmaht also takes exceptional pleasure in rolling around in her vast hoard of legendary proportions. Swimming through an ocean of coins fills her with a child-like glee that she honestly finds a little embarrassing. And thus enjoys this only as a guilty pleasure in privacy. Naturally she has quite an eye for potential valuables as many Dragons do. Often she will go through great effort to acquire a certain bauble or trinket, if in the hands of a non-dragon she has no qualms about wiping them out, in fact she gains a somewhat sadistic fulfillment while exterminating lesser races. But should another Dragon she respects have something she desires greatly, then she will quite happily trade. She is also greatly interested in Alchemy and Medicine. For reasons related to both her ability, longevity and desire for wealth, As such she keeps vast stores of unusual and odd materials in her lair.

Dislikes: Volmaht despises being dirty herself as well as any of her possessions. She has a rather obsessive personality about this. Often cleansing herself of any impurities with short bursts of flame from her mouth like a cat would clean itself. Her lair is also kept immaculately clean and tidy, usually kept so by herself. As she would never trust anyone else with such a task. She greatly despises anyone with no interest in learning. The ability to learn is one of life's greatest gifts. To throw such a thing away in favor of petty things is an absurd concept to her. As a result if she were trying lecture or teach another Dragon, being ignored would probably earn her Fury. The same is granted to anyone stupid enough to enter her lair without invitation. Never mind someone insane enough to steal from her. Were they to do so she would likely hunt them down without mercy. She generally also does not take kindly to wasteful individuals.

She hates Turnips and Cabbage, nor is she fond of the taste of Dwarf. (Too Boney and Hairy)

Fears: Losing her hoard would be crippling to her. Not a day goes by where some part of her mind thinks "Is my hoard safe?". She also has quite a primal fear of death. She has lived longer than most dragons, It is perhaps because of this that she fears death more than she cares to admit.

General Appearance
Height: 151 feet (Due to Earthwing genes inherited from Father)

(The following were mathed out to sensible values for a dragon of her height)

Wingspan: 765 feet at its maximum, 347 feet at its minimum. (Any smaller and a dragon this size probably couldn't fly, a wingspan of height x5 is necessary) (Each wing is roughly the size of a football field to give you an idea)
Overall Length (Nose to tail tip): 792 feet
Body Length: 364 feet
Neck and Head: 108 feet
Tail: 320 feet
Weight: 8256032 lbs

She's a big lass.

Scales: Her scales are primarily a Dark black color and fairly large in size apart from on her limbs, neck and face. Much larger almost plate armor-like scales on her back extending down her tail. The color is a little dulled due to her advanced age, lacking the shine they may have once had but shine nicely still in the right light conditions. The spaces between her scales on some parts of her body glow with an orange intensity giving the strong impression that fire flows through her veins (Similar to Smaug, Here). This is mostly present on her shoulders and a few spots in regular intervals on her back. The scales on her chest and underside continuing up along half her tail have a paler coloration making it look quite distinct. However at times these are given a reddish orange coloration as her underside and chest are littered with the glow present on the other parts of her body. When unleashing her Draconic Fire the glow brightens intensely to a bright yellow. (A comparable example would be when Smaug uses his Fire, same as above just brighter and more focused on the chest.).

Eyes: Her eyes appear to glow like orbs of magma, with an intense orange glow. Were she to sit in a completely dark room the faint glow would likely gently illuminate her face and a small local area like an old coal fire. However her left eye does not glow as brightly as the right. A deep scar that runs over that eye left by her former mate Arcalladon has dulled that eye somewhat. While still somewhat functional the difference is noticeable to both her and others. Her slit like pupils are visible but significantly less so on her left eye.

Appearance: Volmaht is a veritable mountain of a Dragon in both size and build. And that size is nothing to scoff at. Being a fraction larger than what you would expect a Firewing to be. Her Mother was a pureblood Firewing but her Father's Hybrid Nightwing/Earthwing heritage most certainly shows. Owing both her coloration and extra size to both respectively. (see below for more details). Her wing membrane is a fairly distinct orange mottled with patches of a slightly darker orange. Highly frayed at the edges showing signs of her aging. Additionally veins run along the webbing which seem to glow a little bit when she uses her breath weapon. By all accounts she does not look particularly friendly. Perhaps it is this simple fact that has caused her to remain isolated for long periods of her life. She has some rather distinct horns. Two large sets that extend backwards in a curve (surrounded by smaller sets) with a distinct ridged pattern adorned with a slight spikiness to them. As well as two horns on the side of her head a little bit above the frills that decorate the edge of her jaw, these horns curve and point forwards like that off a bull. Finally she has another smaller horn that adorns the tip of her nose (Unlike the image provided above her mouth looks less beak like, probably closer to This) Unlike her scales her horns seem almost polished. A rather distinct feature is a huge wound that covers her chest (in addition to minor scars and damaged scales that cover her as is). It glows brighter than the rest of her bodies glowing features. Her body is also covered in places with what appears to be metal work  Her chest wound most noticeably. As if some sort of attempt at fixing the wound was made. But gaps between the welded on metal plates are hard not to notice. Her shoulders, hips and parts of her back are also reinforced. Her claws (sets of 3 + Thumb Claw) both on her legs and wing thumb seem to be bolstered as well. A couple of her claws being outright replaced by metallic ones (front left foot middle, back right foot outermost). Likely due to having lost them in combat. Her tail is somewhat mace like with the occasional spikes. Finally all along her spine from head to tail are the occasional spines, these have a similar frill in between them similar to the ones on her head. Which also retain the orange color. The frills along with her wings help regulate her temperature. (The metal matches her scale color but not quite). (Honestly she kind of has a Deathwing thing going for her, Compare Here, it certainly conveys her imposing stature.)

Tribe Information and Status
Tribe: Rogue (for now), Has a mixed Heritage due to her Parentage (See below). Making her 1/2 Firewing, 1/4 Nightwing and 1/4 Earthwing.
Rank: N/A (for now)
Family:

Mother (Deceased): Hyperianna, The Flare of Justice. Firewing.

Hyperianna was a Firewing of a long bygone Era. She was an especially well built dragon, highly defined muscles adorned her body and her strength was that of legend. Many considered her vastly beautiful not for her appearance but for when she was in battle, bathed in her signature white flame. She embodied justice in every sense of the word. To forgive evil was almost impossible to her, almost. And it was that one exception that became her life's greatest mistake. Her former rank is one that has been lost to history, but she was a Dragon who preferred to work alone. Seeking out Dragons who could only be described as evil and extinguishing them with her own claws was perhaps her greatest pleasure in life, "Peace through Force" was her motto. However one day she met her match in Vilewing The Blight Bringer. (more covered in history).

Father (Deceased): Vilewing The Blight Bringer. Nightwing/Earthwing

Vilewing was a maliciously cunning Dragon. The kind of dragon who's schemes would not unfold for many decades, centuries even. Some say his greatest works are still unfolding today unbeknownst to even the most wary. But most Draconic scholars state this is pure conjecture. For a Nightwing he was unusually large owing to his Mother's heritage as an Earthwing. His large dark body would skulk over mountains as he moved in a very snake like manner often operating at night. Many humans and demi-humans in his territories began to fear all kinds of shadows. Making sure all parts of their homes are consistently illuminated, even though he would vanish for decades at a time, their fear was so great generations later people still continued this tradition. Vilewing was unapologetically cruel, enslaving countless humanoids to do his bidding was something he delighted in. Especially devouring those who failed him, and often he would give them tasks he knew that they would fail. The taste of "Fear and Despair" was his most favorite cuisine. (more covered in history).

Mate: Volmaht does not current have a mate, Though once upon a time she did. The only Dragon she ever loved, Arcalladon Tesselth. She believed him to have perished during their final encounter. But a small part of her mind believes he may yet live. (I'll likely craft him into a character eventually)

Hatchlings: None, Before she met Arcalladon she had attempted to produce hatchlings as her maternal yearnings began to set in (an instinct she was not fond of) but few Dragons could live up to her expectations. In her youth when she first began to experiment she would kill some of her early suitors. Mostly due to changing her mind while the deed was being done. Since then she has lost interest in producing hatchlings.

Skills and Abilities
Strengths: Volmaht has herculean Strength and Vitality as a result of both her size and ability, backed up by her stubborn and prideful personality she will most certainly not falter in a fight. However she is no fool. Her mind has developed into a cunning one over the millennia and she knows when to retreat. Preferring to plot in advance rather than blindly rush an opponent, unless greatly offended, in which case her rage takes over and she will likely suffer because of it. However pain and suffering have been life long companions to Volmaht. So her tolerance for pain is stronger than your average individual owing to her ability. Volmaht also has a very flexible forked tongue, owing to her need to use small precise tools for her interests. Essentially it functions like a 2 fingered hand. Naturally her sense of taste and smell are very well honed.

Special Abilities: The Flame of Vitality: Volmaht's mixed heritage produced a rather strange ability. An unnaturally strong and unwavering Lifeforce, A Lifeforce of Flame. Some say it is this that has allowed her to survive as long as she has and that this has granted her the large body she possesses, she just kept growing. Volmaht's Body is incredibly resilient to most forms of punishment both physical and magical but is not completely impervious to them. And it is this lack of immunity that makes this ability both her greatest asset and weakness. As she is not immune to her own Flame. She heals with a speed that would surprise most and it is likely this phoenix like healing ability which is the only thing that keeps her alive, in essence her Healing ability just about out paces the damage her Flame does. After some time she needs to go through a "cooling" period. Usually on a day to day basis she will expel vast flames from her maw to ease her inner Flame but sometimes this is just not enough. During these cooling periods Volmaht will usually partially submerge her body into any kind of fluid (swampy mud is also a suitable choice, but she dislikes being dirty), being fully submerged for extended periods of time is very uncomfortable for her, as is the initial entry into the liquid as her body rapidly cools, but it's a pain she's learned to live with. Usually she will use the specially made bath she has prepared in her lair, if not she will quite happily take a dip in the ocean at the beach and perhaps try to snatch a fish at the same time. If she fails to perform her cooling ritual her inner flame starts to cause her great discomfort. growing worse with time. While it has never progressed that far, she suspects if she were to ignore it for far too long she would die in a fiery explosion consuming her from within. This is due to the fact that her healing ability scales inversely to her inner Flame. A weak Flame produces a strong healing ability. A strong Flame produces a weak healing ability. And when the flame becomes too great. She can no longer contain it.

Naturally as a by product of her Flame of Vitality. Volmaht can breath exceptionally powerful flames forth from her maw both as a weapon and as a necessity, as core to her as breathing is to a human. These flames emerge like a jet from the back of her mouth expanding outwards like a cloud of flame and ash. The flame has been described as being a "sticky flame" (think napalm) as the base for the flame seems to be fluid like and thus is rather useful for combat. It can be expelled forwards in an explosive ball of fire that tends to linger, or one of her more daring moves is to expel it in front of her as she charges a foe. The sticky flames coat her body and wings as she becomes a living vision of hell itself. But this move is greatly damaging to her and she must undergo a cooling/healing period sooner than usual as a result. However she cannot breath excessively over a short period of time. If she expels too much flame in a given time she starts to tap into the part of the Flame that sustains her. If she does so she will greatly weaken as a result and will need to rest. Though this offsets her need to undergo a cooling period. Eating flammable material or even magma can help her recover her "normal" level faster.

tl;dr She's a giant thermometer that slowly fills over time. Spit out fire or cool off if it's too high. Or eat combustible material if it's too low.

Weaknesses: Volmaht is by no means fast. On foot she cannot achieve any kind of quick speed. At most she could obtain a decent ramming speed with a long run up but her advanced age has not helped her. Her flight speed is decent but she lacks strong maneuverability. Should she wish to turn mid-flight she would have to take rather long arcing paths to achieve this. Though by hovering and maneuvering that way she can obtain some mobility, but at a snails pace. It's fairly unlikely that she could recover from a fall if she does not have significant altitude to recompose herself. Given a high enough altitude she can achieve a very healthy flight speed using a dive to speed up for a short time. Usually she relies on this tactic to engage her opponent's. Her stubborn nature also makes it difficult to back down if her pride feels insulted. As described in her Ability section her Flame of Vitality is a double edged sword. A potent one to be sure. But equally dangerous to her if misused or not maintained. She has absolutely no talent or ability with the arcane. While she understands Magic and the concepts involved, and could explain how most spells work, Using magic just doesn't appear to be something she is capable of. Likely as a result of her resistance to it. Volmaht also has quite a glaring weak point. The large wound on her chest never quite seems to heal fully, only up to a point (and it causes her discomfort). Likely as a result of the powerful arcane magic her former mate used to inflict it. And as such powerful blows to that area will likely injure her more than any other part of her body. She longs to find a healer capable of healing that wound. But expects it is beyond the work of mortals.

Combat Style: Volmaht is very much an up close and personal combatant. She will usually begin with an aerial assault using her flame coated specialty if she expects this to be a difficult encounter. Her breath weapon favors close proximity brawls and often she will ignite her opponent even if she herself would take damage as a result. For she knows she has the stamina to endure it. And being on fire does help restore her Flame albeit in a very painful manner. She also knows to throw her weight around, as she is rather heavy.

Background
History: Long ago there was a clash between Dragons, Hyperianna the Flame of Justice and Vilewing the Blight Bringer. Two names that were relatively well known on along the borders of the Firewing and Nightwing territories. The two had been at odds for close to their second century now. And each battle ended in a draw, Vilewings overwhelming darkness surrounded Hyperianna as she shone like a star in the blackness of the cosmos. "Do... You not tire of this masquerade Hyperianna? I grow weary of our stalemates." spoke Vilewing in his low raspy voice. "DO NOT, speak my name Cur. MY fangs will seek your throat before the day is done!" screeched Hyperianna. "My time grows short Hyperianna... Let us rest... Why waste the final decades of our lives pursuing this... useless rivalry. I have long since disbanded my empire and seek no further conflict." as Vilewing ended his sentence with a tone of melancholy. The shadows retreated and returned to Vilewing as he released Hyperianna, "Are... You mocking me? Why would you say such a thing?! This must end!". Hyperianna could not help but pick up on Vilewings expression and tone. It was not one she was accustomed too. No, it was one she never thought that monster could ever wear. She knew he spoke the truth. His main empire had long since crumbled. Now he was nothing more than a old rogue trying to survive. "You are right, It must end. But not like this..." sighed Vilewing as he tended to a wound from earlier. Hyperianna was indeed herself growing weary, her body ached and her mind was tired. Additionally her clutch of eggs in her home cannot last forever and must be tended to before her time comes. But the constant fight between herself and Vilewing had occupied all of her time. A glimmer of hope began to form in her mind... Could... She just let him go? Forget about Vilewing. Let him die alone like Abomination he is? She wrestled with the idea... Her Justice and her desire for rest were at ends... until. "Leave, Fly away, Drown yourself. I don't care. From this moment on I shall consider you dead. Never show yourself in these lands again." announced Hyperianna as she turned her back on Vilewing and began to take flight towards her home. Vilewing observed as she flew away, However. That expression of fatigue and melancholy was soon brushed away and replaced with a calculating grin. This moment. Was Hyperianna's greatest mistake. "I may not be able to kill you... But I can crush your spirit and heart yet my dear rival." whispered the cruel dragon, the end of the sentence trailed off as his shadowy figure dissolved away leaving behind the battered corpse of some nameless dragon. Vilewing had been calculating the time it took for Hyperianna to arrive from her home to his location whenever he made himself known. He now knew where to find her nest, now with her guard dropped and with her being in no hurry to return home. He was about to leave her one final wound before he left this world behind.

When Hyperianna returned what she saw caused her mind itself to shatter. Her home was destroyed beyond all recognition, her mate was dead, and her clutch stolen. She knew it was too good to be true. This moment of weakness... Why did she not kill him then and there. Why did she not hurry home. She never imagined he knew where her lair was. In a blind fury she sought him out, but history tells us she never found the Black Wyrm ever again only to die 2 years later to despair, rage and madness.

Her clutch was fresh, The shells had yet to harden, And as such Vilewing departed his own essence onto the eggs once he had returned to his secret lair in the north beyond Pyyria's mainland. He sought to raise the clutch as his own. Watching hatchlings grow that were a mix between himself and his most hated foe brought a smile to his old twisted face. A final insult to the woman he could not kill. Most of the hatchlings passed away within a couple of years, Vilewings essence did not mix well with Hyperianna's. But one tiny little dragon clung to life. Spitting out painful fire as best she could. "My little... Lingering... Flame. It seems you have done what your siblings could not. You took the fire and made it your own. I shall make a true Dragon out of you."

Years passed as Vilewing passed on his knowledge and wisdom to the Wyrmling. He was a strict teacher and showed little to no compassion towards his daughter, Volmaht felt alone even while with her father present, She missed her brothers and sisters. Isolated within Vilewings lair on an island surrounded by other islets filled with clans of Dwarves, Orcs and Gnolls. Vilewing taught his daughter the best ways to handle the foolish Dwarves, the stupid Orcs and the ignorant Gnolls. While she had certainly inherited many of his personality traits. She found it difficult to deal with other Dragons in the same way Vilewing did, due to the bonds she formed with her siblings. She became very much aware that this was not something all Dragons did. And despite his wishes she developed a more reasonable attitude towards Dragon-kind. Eventually through a complicated series of events. Vilewing manipulated some Dragons into coming after his Daughter. He wanted to make sure she was Strong. For if after all these years she was weak. Then she was not worthy of being his Daughter. Volmaht readily defeated the Wyrm's that came for her. But as she learned it was her Father who sent them after her. She felt betrayed, and sought her Father's head. She had no love for the loveless Black Wyrm.

In the end she took his head. And took his small secret empire with him. She ruled with an Iron Fist but wasn't quite as malicious as her Father. Not making her subjects perform impossible chores, as such a thing was incredibly wasteful. She taught them industry and how best to serve her, From efficient farming to how best to mine out a vein of ore. Even teaching the Dwarves to craft powerful armor for their Ruler. Dragons would show up from time to time. Some would be suitors, some seeking glory and fame. She killed them all the same, slowly building up a vast collection of scars as a result. That is until she met Arcalladon. A Dragon who fascinated her beyond all others. But that is a tale for another time.

(The following is also History. Essentially just before Volmaht goes Dormant)

RP Sample: Deep within the mountain of Vol'zaduum on an island primarily occupied by Dwarves lay Volmaht, Curved into a comfortable Position she was occupying herself reading over a rather riveting tale by the late Orcish writer "Smeg". Even though the grammer was poor and the hand writing abysmal. Smeg was a strangely enlightened Orc and his writing proved most amusing to Volmaht. "I do not believe I have been this engrossed in a novel since the days of Bulin Iron-nose.". She chuckled to herself and began to stand up as she had been reading for awhile now, and the writings of an Orc could only hold the attention of as Ancient a Wyrm as herself for only a short while at a time. She adjusted her massive body and moved around so as to stretch out. "I grow weary of this age. My underlings just do not seem to keep me entertained these days... It helps not that this wound aches more sorely today.". She shook her head and began to head towards the main chamber and location of her hoard. She spotted her most loyal attendant on the way on a small ledge. These ledges led to tunnels that the Dwarves used so that they might best serve and communicate with their Draconic ruler. "Oh great scaled one, how best may we serve thee today?" said the Dwarf in a confident tone. This Dwarf, Rurik Goldarm has long been loyal to the Wyrm he serves. To such an extent many of the other Dwarves believe him to no longer be sane. "Prepare my bath Rurik, immediately." Commanded the great Dragon in an authorative tone. To which the Dwarf smiled revealing his pearly white teeth, a stark contrast to his scarred and burned face. "I anticipated your request... It has already been done!". shouted the Dwarf with glee expecting praise from his Master. Volmaht was pleased but at the same time it bothered her. Her minions had become to accustomed to her she was not even spared the luxury of Giving out commands. This irritated her greatly. Instead of praise the Dwarf was rewarded with Fire, and even as the light of his life faded. He continued to smile.

Now sat in her Bath enjoying her Cooling Ritual now that she has overcome the initial painful entry into the fluid. Volmaht always takes great care so as to avoid prolonged contact with her Chest wound. As the pain it produces is always that little bit more intense than the rest of her body. The other scars and wounds are so minor the sensations they produce have become as familiar to her as the sound of her own voice. "My fathers work spoke of a means to Hibernate... To go dormant... Perhaps I should pursue such a thing? This age bores me perhaps I can find something to quell this... Loneliness I feel in this era." With that thought in mind. Volmaht began to prepare over the coming months. Her underlings celebrated in secret while expressing sadness in public. Though they weren't fooling Volmaht. She drove most of them away from the islands before going into Dormancy. As she did not want to be disturbed. And there she rests waiting for the time to rise once more. And see a new world with old eyes.

==================================================================================

Well done if you read it all haha!

I'll happily answer any queries. To me everything feels nicely flavorful. Her ability is decent but fair, as it has some glaring weaknesses, not to mentioned accentuated by her other Weaknesses.

Also if you spot some spelling mistakes or parts that probably could have used different synonym do tell me. I admit the History/RP Sample didn't turn out as good as I would have liked. But I am rather eager to begin.


Last edited by Volmaht on Thu Jan 01, 2015 12:29 am; edited 5 times in total
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Re: Volmaht Ravostrax, The Lingering Flame

Post by Shiningwater on Wed Dec 31, 2014 8:56 pm

Goodness, you know how to write a bio. Razz

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