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From the introduction:
The halfling war-mage, body bent with age but with an undeniable clarity in her gaze, holds up the gnarled fingers on her left hand with a swift, practiced gesture that belies her age. Speaking words of power in a deep, booming voice—words that reverberate with layered eldritch meaning—the halfling unleashes a cone of snow and ice that scours the terrain in front of her, while a gleaming wall of ice shelters her allies from the storm.
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