The Distant Promise
You stand at the edge of the precipice, where the stone gives way to a chasm of swirling, iridescent mist that smells of ozone and wet iron. The air here is thick, viscous, tasting of copper and old blood, a sensation that coats the back of your throat with a metallic tang that will not wash away. This is the Undercroft, the subterranean labyrinth beneath the old mill town of Blackwood, a place...
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