The Pale Garden

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2026-08-20 14:52:44 -

The Pale Garden

The dream does not arrive with the sharpness of waking, but rather as a slow, viscous tide of ash and rusted iron, seeping into the marrow of your bones until you can no longer distinguish the boundary between the cold stone floor of the dungeon and the warm, suffocating heat of your own fevered blood. You are not the man you were when you first crossed the threshold of the Blackwood Keep, that...

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