The Distant Metropolis
The fire in the great hall of the fortress at Dunbar’s Keep burned low, casting long, trembling shadows across the stone floor where we had gathered to celebrate the end of the long, freezing march from the northern marches, and I stood there holding my cup of ale, feeling the weight of the iron gauntlet on my hand, the metal cold against the sweat of my palm, while the drums beat a slow, heavy...
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