The traveler sat silently in the pitch darkness for some time, bony torso freed from its usual patched tunic and heavy hood, leaned against the splintered back of a rickety chair, spindly legs stretched out before him. He smelt of caked sweat and smoking-weed, but the ramshackle inn standing on the eastern border of Bree-land offered no washing amenities, and he minded little the lack of comfort.
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Seeking Answers in Bree June 3rd, 2026 |
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