The Golden Scar
The road into the valley of Kael was not a path but a wound in the earth, a jagged scar of red clay that bled under the weight of the iron-shod boots of the Guard. Thomas Bradshaw walked at the head of the column, his armor polished to a mirror shine that reflected the grey, indifferent sky above, and he felt the familiar, cold hum of the Order’s law vibrating in his marrow. He was a man of...
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