The Distant Nightmare
The severed hand twitched on the stone floor, a pale, detached thing that seemed to possess a will entirely its own, and I watched it with the detached horror of a man observing a pestilence that had finally found its host. I am Sir Aldric of the Order of the Silver Hand, and in this high tower of Castle Blackwood, in the year of our Lord 1347, I hold the fate of my brother Thomas in a balance...
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