The Distant Joke
The feast was a riot of tallow and grease, a chaotic sprawl of roasted boar and spiced wine that stained the heavy oak table with the memory of excess. You sat at the far end, a small, pale thing in a tunic that had seen better decades, watching the light of a hundred candles flicker against the vaulted stone ceiling. The air was thick, saturated with the scent of roasting fat and the sweat of...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen