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The Quiet Register and the Mist of Witness

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  The Quiet Register and the Mist of Witness Lukkog comes to the temple of Moradin, Clangeddin, and Dumathoin alone, carrying something that does not look like a relic until you understand what it is. The Quiet Register is not a book. It is a slab of dark stone, smooth as river-worn bedrock, its surface veined with pale mineral threads that catch lanternlight like buried frost. Names move across it as if written by an invisible chisel. Each line is steady. Each letter is precise. A record not of glory, but of rest. In the main hall, the forge-brazier breathes low. Oil lamps burn steady. The air tastes faintly of soot and sanctified resin. This place is built for oaths and endings. Lukkog does not announce himself. He does not ask for attention. In a private side chamber, he sets the Quiet Register on the basalt plinth with a care that borders on tenderness, as if stone can feel disrespect. The slab settles with a dull, heavy certainty, like a door closing. He bows once. Not as a wa...

The Rune-Thief's Gambit

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The Rune-Thief’s Gambit Snow fell in a slow, stubborn drift over Cobblecrest, the kind that didn’t seem to come from any cloud the eye could find. It floated on a wind that tasted of river ice and chimney smoke, settling on slate roofs and market awnings and the black iron rails along the Winding River. The lanterns of Market Square burned as warm blurs through the flurries, their halos trembling in the weather like candle flames behind thin glass. Featherfoot’s Tales was supposed to be a refuge from nights like this. It sat just off the square, wedged between a cooper’s shop and a tailor’s, its windows crowded with handwritten cards promising rare scrolls, practical almanacs, and “Approved Arcane Texts for Responsible Study.” Most evenings, the shop held a hush so complete Zola Onyeka could hear the gentle rasp of parchment against parchment as someone turned a page. Tonight, the hush was gone. Books lay scattered across the floor like the aftermath of a storm. A chair had been tipped...