The Pale Protocol

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2026-08-21 19:41:15 -

The Pale Protocol

The ink in your well has turned the color of old bruised plums, and you have been staring at it for so long that the surface seems to breathe, expanding and contracting with a rhythm that is not quite your own. It is the year of the Iron Harvest, or so the chronicles claim, though the sky above the Spire has not shown a single grain of wheat for three months. You are a Keeper of the Ledger, a...

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