The Golden Suspect
The rain that fell upon the Kingdom of Aethelgard did not wash things clean, as rain is supposed to do in the fables and the songs of the bards, but rather it seemed to scrub the world into a state of profound, muddy exhaustion, turning the cobblestones of the High Spire into slick, treacherous mirrors that reflected the weary, hollow-eyed faces of the guardsmen who patrolled the wet, gray...
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