The Distant Legend
You stand in the corridor of the municipal hospital, the air thick with the smell of boiled linseed and the metallic tang of old blood, and you feel the weight of the years pressing against the back of your skull, a pressure so immense it seems to bow your spine into a permanent curve. It is 1924, and the city of Ashworth is a place of iron and coal dust, where the fog rolls in from the river...
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