The Golden Crossing
The feast hall smelled of roasted boar and stale beer, a thick, cloying scent that clung to the wool of their tunics and the damp stones of the floor. Torches guttered in iron sconces, casting long, jumping shadows across the faces of the village elders, who sat on benches carved from oak. At the center of the table, the meat was carved into glistening slabs, the fat rendering out in slow,...
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