The Faded Root
The road to Oakhaven is not a road at all, but a scar of packed earth that cuts through the mist, narrowing until it feels less like a path and more like a suggestion. You walk it with the heavy, rhythmic cadence of a man who has forgotten how to be soft. Your boots, polished to a dull gleam, strike the ground with a finality that echoes in the hollows of the fog. You are here to inspect. You...
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