The Golden Cellar
You leave the guild hall with the taste of copper and old dust in your mouth, the heavy oak doors slamming behind you with a finality that vibrates in the soles of your boots, leaving you standing on the cobblestones of a street that has always felt too narrow for the magnitude of the accusations leveled against your craft. The air is thin, carrying the scent of rain about to break, and you...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 2 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση