The Golden Circuit
The letter lies upon the slate table, its wax seal cracked like a dried riverbed, and you read it again, your fingers trembling not from the cold of the dungeon but from the sudden, violent clarity of the words. You are Sir Alistair Thorne, Captain of the Night Watch in the city of Ashenmere, a man whose armor is dented and whose conscience is a bruise that will not heal. The document is a...
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