The Golden Farce

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2026-08-20 10:15:10 -

The Golden Farce

The soup was cold. Eamon stirred it. The spoon clicked against the stone bowl. It was a sound that echoed too loudly in the high vaulted ceiling of the keep. Outside, the wind screamed through the arrow slits. It sounded like a dying man. Inside, the fire had burned down to embers. They glowed a dull, angry red. Like coals of blood. Eamon was the Warden. He held the bowl in both hands. His...

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