The Distant Clue
The iron gauntlet of my left hand, a thing of forged steel and ancient rivets that had served me through three campaigns and a dozen duels, sat now upon the velvet cushion of the city’s most opulent tavern, cold and heavy as a tombstone. I am Silas Vane, a man who has traded the silence of the borderlands for the cacophony of the capital, where the air is thick with the scent of roasted meats...
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