The Pale Echo

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2026-08-22 12:53:50 -

The Pale Echo

The rain does not fall so much as it presses against the stone walls of the keep, a relentless, grey finger testing the seams of the mortar, and you stand in the center of the great hall, your hand resting on the hilt of a sword that feels heavier than iron, heavier than the years of service that have calcified into the bones of your left arm, and the air is thick with the smell of damp wool...

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