The Golden Maze
The bell of the Great House tolls not with the sharp, authoritative clang of iron striking iron, but with the deep, resonant hum of a cello string bowed by an invisible hand, a sound that seems to vibrate in the marrow of your bones before it reaches your ears. You are running, your breath coming in ragged, white plumes that dissolve into the cold, grey mist that has settled over the village of...
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