The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-24 08:14:17 -

The blade of my axe bit into the oak, the wood splintering with a sharp, wet crack that echoed off the cobblestones of the market square. I pulled the handle back, the muscles in my right shoulder screaming in a familiar, dull ache, while my left arm hung dead and heavy at my side, the fingers fused into a single, grey claw of stone. It was the third week of the Grey Rot, and the cold had...

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