The Distant Journey

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2026-08-22 01:04:58 -

The banquet hall of the old stone keep smelled of roasting boar and wet wool, a thick, cloying mixture that hung in the air like a visible fog, settling into the folds of my tunic and clinging to the skin of my arms where the sweat had begun to bead in the oppressive heat of the hearthfire. I sat at the far end of the long oak table, a place reserved for those who were neither fully accepted...

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