The Faded Ruin
The iron gate shudders under the weight of the battering ram, a rhythmic thud that vibrates through the soles of your boots and settles deep in your marrow. You are not here to open it. You are here to break it. The stone archway of the Sanctum of St. Jude looms before you, a mouth of jagged teeth in the grey dawn. Rain slicks the cobblestones, turning the street into a mirror of the blood that...
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