The Distant Legend
The hall smells of roasting boar and damp wool. It is a thick, cloying scent that clings to the back of your throat. You sit at the long oak table, one of the highest ranking officers in the county guard. The tallow candles flicker, casting long, jittery shadows against the stone walls. Men laugh. They are loud. They are drunk. They are safe. You are not. The firelight dances on the polished...
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