The Distant Joke

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2026-08-24 09:23:08 -

The Distant Joke

In the mist-choked year of 1342, Thomas Bradshaw stood alone at the edge of the Whispering Fen, his hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of his father’s rusted sword. The metal was cold and pitted, a weight that felt less like a weapon and more like a burden he had carried for nineteen years. He was a squire, though the title meant little in a village where the crops failed and the air tasted...

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