The Golden Maze
The feast was a slaughter of silence. You sat at the long oak table in the great hall of the keep, the wood worn smooth by centuries of elbows and anxiety, and you watched the candlelight flicker against the stone walls. The air was thick with the smell of roasted boar and the sharper, metallic tang of fear. Around you, the knights of the Order clinked their cups, but their eyes did not meet...
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