The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-19 15:00:07 -

The Wistful Saga

The hall smelled of roasted pig and old stone. Candles flickered in iron sconces, casting long, trembling shadows against the vaulted ceiling. Sir Julian sat at the head of the table. He was a small man. His fingers were stained with ink. He wore a tunic of coarse wool, grey as the morning mist. He did not eat. He watched the feast. The knights raised their cups. Wine sloshed over the rims. Red...

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