The Distant Joke

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2026-08-20 18:32:55 -

The Distant Joke

You stand at the edge of the precipice where the stone gives way to the void, the air here thick with the scent of wet moss and ancient, decaying wood, a smell that has seeped into your very pores over the years of wandering. The Great Hall of Whispers is not built of marble or granite, but of a pale, porous rock that seems to breathe, its walls pitted with thousands of tiny holes that hum when...

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