The Faded Ruin
Thorne. The name was not spoken but struck, a heavy iron bell rung in the vaulted hall of the Feast of Unity, and the sound of it settled into the marrow of your bones before the High Warden’s voice even reached your ears. You stood at the end of the long table, your posture rigid, the Iron Mantle fusing your spine to the seat behind you, the metal cold and humming with a low, parasitic...
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