The Pale Bridge

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2026-08-21 09:39:37 -

The Pale Bridge

The banquet hall of the Citadel of Aethelgard did not smell of roasting meat or spiced wine, but of wet stone and the metallic tang of old blood. It was a feast not for the belly, but for the memory, a gathering of the Unwritten, those souls who had been scrubbed from the historical record by the Inquisitors of the Palate. They sat at long tables carved from a single, petrified oak, their faces...

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