The Pale Banner
The iron of the sword bit into the shield wall with a sound like a snapping bone, and Sir Julian Vance felt the vibration of the impact travel up through his arm, settling in the marrow of his shoulder where it remained, a cold, metallic ache that seemed to define the very edges of his existence. He stood in the center of the Great Hall, a space that was less a room and more a canyon of stone...
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