The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-18 06:53:40 -

The rain did not fall so much as it was hammered against the leaded glass of the watchtower, a relentless, staccato assault that blurred the world outside into a weeping smear of grey stone and black mud, and you stood there with your back against the cold, rough-hewn wall, feeling the vibration of the storm in your teeth, in the marrow of your bones, while the scent of wet wool and old iron...

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