The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-24 18:41:27 -

Act I The rope bridge creaked, a dry, wooden groan that cut through the humid air of the Alentejo night, as Luis Jorge’s boots struck the planks with the heavy, deliberate rhythm of a man who had already lost the war. He carried no sword, only the weight of his years and the black raven perched on his shoulder, its feathers absorbing the sheet lightning that split the sky above the obsidian...

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