The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-19 01:06:12 -

The feast was a riot of bone and blood. Candlelight flickered against the stone walls of the keep, a place that had no name on any map, only a shadow in the mind of the one who entered it. The tables groaned under the weight of roasted swan, black pudding, and bread so dark it looked like coal. The air was thick, heavy with the smell of sweat, roasted meat, and the metallic tang of old fear....

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