The Golden Scar
The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the cobblestones of Oakhaven into a slick, dark mirror that reflected the gaslight in fractured, wavering pools. Elias Thorne stood at the window of his small office on the second floor of the town hall, his back to the room, watching the water drip from the eaves in a relentless, rhythmic cascade. He was a large man, built like the heavy timber...
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