The Distant Joke

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2026-08-22 21:30:47 -

The Distant Joke

The fire in the hearth of the Great Hall roared with a hunger that seemed to mock the frost pressing against the stone windows. You sat at the long table, your hands wrapped around a cup of ale that had long since gone warm, your eyes fixed on the fog that crept across the courtyard like a living thing. Your father, Lord Eamon, sat at the head of the table, his frame gaunt, his skin the color...

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