The Faded Guest
You wake in the cold. The stone floor bites through the thin wool of your shift. Dust motes dance in the single beam of light that cuts through the high, barred window. It is a dream, but it is heavy. It has weight. It has smell. The smell of wet iron and old blood. You are in the Keep. The great fortress of the Order. You are a Warden. You remember this. You remember the oath. You remember the...
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