The Distant Ghost

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2026-08-19 16:33:22 -

The Distant Ghost

The iron breastplate is no longer a weapon, but a shell, and you are the insect trapped within its cold, curved ribs. You stand before the High Justiciar, a figure carved from the same jagged stone as the castle walls, his face a mask of bureaucratic indifference that has long since calcified into a kind of grim, historical stone. The air in the throne room is thick with the scent of damp wool...

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