The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-20 16:20:29 -

The Wistful Saga

The feast was a thing of smoke and bone, held in the deep, vaulted cellar of the miller’s house where the air hung thick with the scent of roasting pork and stale beer. Thomas sat at the far end of the long table, his hands buried deep in the folds of his roughspun tunic, feeling the heat of the hearth fire against his shins while the cold dampness of the stone floor leached into his feet. He...

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