The Wistful Cipher

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2026-08-20 13:29:13 -

The banquet hall smelled of roasted boar and stale incense. It was a thick, cloying scent that clung to the back of the throat, a physical weight in the air. Candles guttered in brass sconces, casting long, trembling shadows against the stone walls. The guests were silent, or rather, they were still. A stillness born of fear. At the head of the table sat Lord Corvin, a man whose face was a map...

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