The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-19 18:46:28 -

The air in the lower barracks of the Northern Watch was thick with the smell of wet wool, unwashed bodies, and the faint, metallic tang of old blood that seemed to seep from the stone itself. It was a damp, grey morning, the kind that settled into the joints before the sun had even thought to rise, and Old Elias Thorne stood by his bunk, wrapping the leather straps around his forearms with a...

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