The Faded River

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2026-08-19 20:11:56 -

The Faded River

The hall smelled of roasted boar and stale ale. Torches guttered in iron sconces, casting long, trembling shadows against the rough-hewn stone walls. Sir Thomas Bradshaw stood at the head of the long table. His armor was polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the flickering firelight. He did not eat. He watched the hands of his men. They tore at bread. They gnawed on bones. They drank until...

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