The Golden Compass

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2026-08-17 20:21:52 -

The feast was a lie. It smelled of roasted boar and stale ale, of sweat and fear, but there was no joy in the hall of Lord Halloway. We were all hungry. I was hungry. The hunger was a physical weight in my gut, a stone that dragged me down to the floorboards. I sat by the fire. My hands were steady. They were always steady. That was the job. To keep the hands steady when the world shook. My...

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