The Distant Temple
The rain on the carriage roof is a relentless, rhythmic drumming. It sounds like nails being hammered into soft wood. You are tired. Your bones ache with a deep, structural fatigue that sleep cannot fix. You have been traveling for three days. The map in your lap is old, its edges frayed and brown with damp. It shows a place that should not exist. You are a scholar of the obscure. You deal in...
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