The Wistful Grid
14th of October, 1342 I wake with the taste of iron in my mouth, the dream of the grey stone still pressing against my chest like a cold hand. I am Thomas, thirty-two years old, a watchman in Oakhaven, and I am tired of the whispers that rise from the mortar of the town walls. For three years, I have served under Magistrate Aldous, a man who believes the Whispering Wall is a divine instrument...
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