The Golden Scar

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2026-08-18 18:35:45 -

The Golden Scar

The fog does not lift. It thickens. You stand in the courtyard of the Spire, a place of black stone and grey silence, where the air tastes of iron and old rain. You are a Knight of the Order, though the title feels heavy, a cloak of lead you have worn so long it has become your skin. Your armor is dented. Your hands, gloved in steel, tremble. Not from cold. From the weight of the sword you...

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