The Distant Legend
The banquet hall smelled of roasted goose and stale sweat. It was a smell that clung to the wool uniforms, heavy and sweet. The officers sat at long tables of polished mahogany. They ate with silver forks that clicked against porcelain. Captain Elias Thorne sat alone at the far end. He watched the steam rise from his bowl. It curled like a ghost. He was a small man. His coat buttoned tight to...
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