The Distant Legend
The hall smelled of roasted boar and wet wool, a thick, cloying mixture that seemed to hang in the air like a heavy curtain, obscuring the cold stone walls of the keep where the lords of the valley gathered to feast. I sat at the far end of the long oak table, my hands wrapped around a cup of ale that had long since gone warm, watching the flickering torchlight dance across the faces of the men...
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