The Faded River

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2026-08-22 11:30:06 -

The Faded River

The feast in the great hall of Oakhaven was a mask for a funeral, the tables groaning under the weight of roasted boar and stale ale, while the air hung thick with the scent of wet wool and old fear. You are Elias, thirty years old, your hands stained permanently with the black dust of the scribe’s trade, and you sit at the far end of the table, watching the steam rise from your bowl as if it...

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