This.
This place.
It is Angband.
It is Angband.
Not an illusion.
When Gorlim wakes, he is in his cell. Beaten. Bloody. Tortured as he was, starving and thirsty, dizzy and exhausted, as if the Bar had only been a dream of possibilities and nothing more.
Screams ricochet over stone.
Flesh is rended.
Blood flows and drips steadily as the moan
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