The Pale Verdict

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2026-08-20 11:19:26 -

The Pale Verdict

The banquet hall of the Citadel did not smell of food, but of old dust and the metallic tang of stagnant air, a scent that clung to the back of your throat like a ghost. You sat at the high table, your armor polished to a mirror shine that reflected the flickering, impossible light of the chandeliers above. They were made of bone, or perhaps white glass, hanging in a chandelier that wept cold...

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