The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-25 09:56:32 -

The Wistful Saga

Act I Niamh Yeats’s hand was already moving, the brass baton slick with the humidity that swelled every door in the shipyard district until the wood groaned and split, her knuckles white against the grip as she tried to keep the rhythm of her patrol steady while the sap oozed from the pores of her wrist, a thick, amber fluid that smelled of pine resin and old blood. She wiped it on her...

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