The Faded Alibi
The fire in the great hall of the crumbling keep of Ashworth was not a fire of comfort but a roaring, hungry beast, devouring the ancient oak beams and casting a jagged, flickering light across the faces of the men who sat upon the rough-hewn benches, their armor clinking softly with the restless energy of a storm that had been building in the cold air outside for weeks. Lord Edward Ashworth...
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