The Golden Suspect
The ink on the parchment was still wet, glistening under the shaft of grey light that pierced the high, narrow window of the scribe’s chamber, and you watched it dry with a patience that had long since ceased to be a virtue and become instead a form of penance. You are Elias Thorne, a clerk of the third tier in the Guild of Records, a man whose life is measured not in years but in the slow,...
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