The Golden Oath
The hall smelled of roasted lamb and the sharp, metallic tang of old blood, a scent that had permeated the stone walls of the Keep so deeply that no amount of scrubbing could ever wash it out. We were gathered in the Great Hall, a long, vaulted room where the shadows seemed to pool in the corners like spilled ink, and the only light came from the tallow candles that sputtered against the heavy,...
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