The Golden Cellar
The iron gate shuddered against its hinges, a sound like a bone cracking in a frozen field, and the silence that followed was so heavy it seemed to press against the eardrums of every man standing in the courtyard. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood with his back to the massive oak doors of the armory, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, fingers slightly curled as if trying to grasp the air...
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