The Faded Alibi
The mud was black and thick, sucking at my boots with a hunger that felt personal. I wiped the grime from my visor, the motion slow, deliberate, as if time itself had thickened in the chamber of the keep. Outside, the storm did not howl; it screamed, a sound like tearing metal that vibrated in the teeth. I am a man of the Order, though the Order is a name I have begun to find hollow, a shell...
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