The Faded Shield
The road from the borderlands to the citadel of Aethelgard was not merely a path of packed earth and mud, but a vein of bleeding red clay that stretched out before us like a scar that refused to heal, and as I walked, my boots sinking into the wet, sucking ground with a sound that was indistinguishable from the wet coughing of the dying, I felt the weight of the iron shield strapped to my back...
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