The Distant Journey
The fire in the great hall of Blackwood Manor crackled with a sound like dry bones snapping, illuminating the faces of the guests in flickering amber and shadow. You sit at the far end of the long oak table, your hands wrapped around a goblet of wine that tastes of iron and earth, your eyes fixed not on the dancing figures or the roasted boar being carved by the servants, but on the heavy iron...
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