She clutches her prayer book to her chest. High above the dreary chaos looms the sprawling ruins and, of course, the rumoured Darkest Dungeon. The other seekers go to take their place among the rabble of heathens as Junia remains frozen by the carriage. The world-weary locals shuffle quietly over the cobblestones and, up on the hill by the Abbey, a grave is being filled. Adventurers are milling between the buildings, some clearly already drunk.
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