The Wistful Grid

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2026-08-20 10:52:14 -

The Wistful Grid

The rain did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the city, a slow, gray sigh that settled into the crevices of the ancient stones and the hollows of your armor, turning the iron into a cold, heavy skin that you wore not for protection, but for penance. You stand here, in the shadow of the Great Spire, a monument to a god who has long since forgotten the names of his worshippers, and you feel...

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