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Aye, we seek to free the bounden slaveBy the end of the round, he is 60 feet in the air. He wonders if his sky bombs might cause those beneath him to scatter.
So fight we all with might and main
Dispel the magic of our foes
And free the prisoner of his woes
So fight, my friends, now fight to save!
They flee they fly...is the best he can come up with to continue inspiring courage in his friends and comrades.
Away they run
Now free our friend and kick their buns!
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