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Taedmorden, once a major festival town and home to an amazing night lift had been forsaken and left to rot alone. Were it not for the occasional bird call the only sounds in this town was that of the wind. The sounds of market vendors, playing families and a loving community were no more.
The art gallery was once the cultural pride and joy of this town and tourists flocked to see the art displayed here. Now it was home to a flock of doves who've destroyed most art pieces in their ignorance of what it once meant to so many people.
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