The Distant Joke

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2026-08-18 12:17:03 -

The Distant Joke

The iron gates of the Citadel of Saint Jude do not open for the living, but you are already inside, your boots sinking into the wet, muddy grass that has somehow taken root in the cracks of the ancient flagstones. You are a man of the King’s Guard, clad in mail that has turned the color of rust and old blood, and you carry a sword that is heavier than it should be, its edge dull from a decade...

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