The Distant Journey

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2026-08-20 18:31:09 -

The ale tasted of copper. Gareth wiped his mouth. He was a guard. He wore the grey wool of the Crown. His hands shook. Not from cold. From hunger. The Great Hall of Ashworth Keep roared. Firelight danced on the stone. Knights laughed. Lute strings plucked. It was a feast. Or so they called it. A celebration of order. Of law. Of the King’s grace. Gareth did not feel grace. He felt the itch. It...

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