The Faded Ruin
The bell tolled. It was a heavy, iron sound that shook the dust from the rafters of the Great Hall. Thomas Ashworth stood in the center of the stone floor. His armor was dented. His left arm hung useless at his side. Blood ran from his brow, mixing with the sweat that slicked his skin. He looked at the crowd. They were silent. Above him, the stained glass windows depicted the history of the...
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