The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-21 15:44:05 -

The Wistful Saga

The feast was a riot of salted meats and dark, thick wine, the air in the Great Hall so heavy with smoke and the smell of roasted boar that it felt like breathing through a wet wool blanket. The torches sputtered, casting long, trembling shadows that danced against the stone walls of the keep, which had been built by men whose names had long since crumbled into the earth. Marguerite sat at the...

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