The Faded Ruin
The rain on the slate roof of the Magistrate’s office was not merely water but a relentless, grinding assault, a rhythmic drumming that seemed to vibrate through the very marrow of your bones as you stood in the center of the room, your hands bound behind your back with coarse hemp rope that bit into the skin of your wrists, leaving angry, weeping welts that pulsed in time with the thunder...
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