The Distant Summer

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2026-08-22 18:08:24 -

The cloak hangs heavy on your shoulders, its wool matted and damp, smelling of the cellar where your mother wove it by the light of a tallow candle. It is ugly, a patchwork of gray and brown scraps, and it pulls at your neck with a weight that feels less like fabric and more like a debt. You stand in the center of the Guild Square, the cobblestones cold beneath your thin boots, while the Guild...

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