The Distant Metropolis

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2026-08-19 15:10:19 -

The feast was a riot of tallow light and the heavy, cloying scent of roasted lamb that seemed to cling to the back of my throat like a physical weight, a suffocating blanket woven from the very sins of the men who sat around the great oak table in the center of the guildhall. I stood in the shadows of the archway, my hands folded tightly within the sleeves of my leather apron, the rough texture...

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