The Golden Visit
The banquet hall of the Keep at Dunbar’s Reach smelled of roasted lamb, spilled mead, and the heavy, metallic tang of old blood that had long since soaked into the flagstones, a scent that Sergeant Elias Thorne had come to associate with the concept of duty itself, a pungent perfume that clung to the wool of his tunic and the leather of his boots, binding him to the stone walls and the iron...
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