The Golden Ritual
The tower stood in the center of the courtyard like a tooth knocked loose from the jaw of the earth, its stone face weathered into a grimace of eternal, silent accusation. Sir Cedric Ashworth, the High Warden of the Obsidian Keep, ran his calloused thumb along the rough-hewn granite of the eastern wall, feeling the cold bite of the masonry seep into his skin. He was a man carved from the same...
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