The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-24 22:43:25 -

Act I The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the pine land of the Dreaming Quarter into a slick, grey soup where the water pooled in the cracks of the pavement and smelled of wet rot and old copper. Lucien Gaspard stood in the alleyway, his hands trembling not from the cold, but from the weight of the silver locket he clutched against his chest, a heavy, cold thing that seemed to...

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