The Faded Ruin
The rain fell not as water, but as a fine, grey ash, settling into the crevices of the old stone walls and the deep, muddy ruts of the road that wound through the valley of Saint Jude. You walked with a heavy, deliberate gait, your boots caked in the red clay of the earth, the leather of your armor creaking softly with every step, a sound that seemed to be the only living thing in a world that...
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