The Faded Shield
The hall was thick with the smoke of tallow candles and the heavy, cloying scent of roasted boar. You stood in the corner, your back pressed against the cold stone of the hearth, watching the light dance across the faces of the men who had once called you brother. They were loud. They were drunk. They were safe. In your hand, you held the small, folded piece of vellum, the ink still wet, the...
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