The Wistful Show

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2026-08-19 18:48:32 -

The Wistful Show

The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the moors into a churning sea of grey mud that sucked at the boots of the patrol. Sir Thomas Ashworth walked alone, his breath visible in the cold air, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that felt heavier with every step he took. The blade was not of steel, but of a pale, translucent stone that had been polished smooth by centuries of...

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