The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-17 23:06:07 -

The feast was not a celebration of joy, but a ritual of endurance, held in the vast, stone-vaulted hall of the Guild of Weavers in the highland town of Avelorn, where the air was thick with the smell of damp wool, roasted lamb, and the faint, metallic tang of fear that had begun to settle in the bones of every craftsman present, for the Edict of Uniformity had been signed by the Crown three...

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