The Distant Clue
The bell tolled not for hours but for blood. It was a low, bronze groan that rolled across the cobblestones of Aethelgard, a city of stone and shadow where the air tasted of iron and damp wool. Sir Kaelen Vance stood in the courtyard, his hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword, though he had not drawn it. He watched the smoke rise from the alchemist’s tower. It was a thick, violet plume,...
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