The Distant Threshold

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 16:07:52 -

The banquet hall smelled of roasted goose and damp wool. It was a scent that clung to the stones, heavy and suffocating, filling the vaulted ceiling of the keep. Sir Aldous sat at the head of the long oak table, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that no longer fit his grip. The leather was worn thin. The metal was dull. He watched the flames in the hearth. They danced with a slow,...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews