The small church of Saint Festal has always been a beacon of hope for the small town’s citizens, a reprieve from the land’s constant hostility and encroaching mists. There, the townsfolk would meditate, pray and discuss politics in hushed tones, barely able to recognize their interlocutor’s face in the dim glow of the candlelight. A pale, blighted sunray would illuminate the stained glass windows from time to time; a bleak reminder of a bygone golden age.

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