The Golden Oath
The frost came down on the city of Aethelgard like a shroud, settling into the crevices of the cobblestones and the hollows of the ancient oaks that lined the Merchant’s Row. You were a tanner, a man whose hands were mapped with the scars of lye and hide, and you loved Aldric with a ferocity that defied the logic of your trade. He was a silversmith, a man of delicate precision, and together you...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews