The Golden Maze
You are a scholar of textiles, a man who has spent thirty years cataloging the weave and warp of history, believing that in the thread lies the truth of the soul. Your name is Arthur Pendelton, and you are wearing a coat of heavy, oiled canvas. It is not merely clothing; it is your skin, your shield, and your grave. The fabric is worn thin at the elbows, the lining frayed into wisps that catch...
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