The Golden Circuit
You hold the silver clasp in your palm, the metal cold and unyielding against the sweat of your fingers, a small, hard secret that burns brighter than any torch in this damp, stone-walled city. It is a thing of no particular beauty to the untrained eye, just a piece of tarnished silver from the gauntlet of Sir Alaric, but to you, it is the anchor that holds the rotting ship of your life from...
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