The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-17 17:23:40 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a grey veil over the stone streets of Aethelgard. I stood in the archway of the Watchtower, my hand resting on the cold hilt of my sword. The metal was familiar, a weight I had carried for twenty years. My armor, once polished to a mirror sheen that reflected the moonlight, now bore the dull, matte finish of rust and time. It was pitted by the rain,...

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