The Distant Joke

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-18 22:09:38 -

The Distant Joke

The rain fell on the city of Aethelgard with a persistent, metallic rhythm, drumming against the iron shutters of the inn where you sat. You were not there by choice, nor by comfort, but by the weight of a judgment that had been rendered in a court no man could see. The air smelled of wet wool, stale tobacco, and the sharp, ozone scent of the magic that seeped from the cobblestones. It was a...

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