The Pale Tale

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2026-08-20 18:59:11 -

The Pale Tale

The feast was a wound in the dark, a sprawling table of rotting wood and cold meat that stretched out into the fog like a bridge to nowhere. You sat at the far end, your hands wrapped around a mug of tepid coffee that tasted of ash and burnt sugar, while the others laughed in voices that sounded like distant thunder rolling over the hills. They were good people, or at least they had been good...

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