The Golden Farce
The rain has been falling for three days, a grey, relentless curtain that blurs the edge of the world and dissolves the road into a slick of brown mud beneath your boots. You are walking, or perhaps you are being dragged forward by a current that has nothing to do with the wind, toward the high stone walls of the Blackwood estate. Your left hand rests on the hilt of your sword, not because you...
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