The Pale Banner
The hall of the manor was dark, save for the embers that breathed in the great stone hearth. They glowed with a sick, orange pulse, casting long, jagged shadows against the vaulted ceiling. The air was thick with the scent of damp wool and old wax. It smelled of time, and time was heavy here. Elspeth stood at the edge of the dais. She was the Keeper of the Hall. For forty years, she had held...
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