The Hall of Glass Sighs
(Act I: Initiation) The estate of Blackwood Moor did not sit upon the Scottish Highlands so much as it was swallowed by them. It was a place of jagged slate and weeping granite, where the wind howled with the voices of a thousand drowned sailors and the mist clung to the earth like a burial shroud. I arrived at the manor in the dying light of a November afternoon, a young scholar of aesthetics...
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