The Distant Joke

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2026-08-17 20:23:13 -

The Distant Joke

The rain had not stopped for three days. It fell in a steady, grey sheet against the high, narrow windows of the keep, blurring the world outside into a smear of mud and stone. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of wet wool and old iron. Thomas sat on a bench by the hearth, his hands resting on his knees. He was a man of few words, his face a map of deep lines carved by wind and worry. He...

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