The Golden Farce
The road to the Citadel of Oakhaven was not merely a path of crushed stone and mud, but a vein of blood pulsing through the heart of the kingdom, carrying the weight of every soul that dared to walk it. You were walking it now, your boots heavy with the damp earth of the last autumn, the leather stiff against your feet as if the ground itself had grown teeth and was chewing on your resolve. The...
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