The Golden Oath
The spear breaks against your shield. Wood splinters. Pain flares in your left hand, a hot wire pulling tight. You are on your knees in the mud. Rain hammers the visor of your helm. You taste blood and iron. "Up, you rat," a voice growls. It is not a command. It is a warning. You look up. The man looming over you is huge. His armor is dented, stained with the black grime of the trench. He holds...
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