The Faded River
The feast was a cacophony of iron and wine, a grotesque tableau of excess that seemed to mock the silence waiting beyond the castle walls. We sat in the great hall of Dunbar Keep, the air thick with the scent of roasting lamb and stale beer, our armor polished to a mirror shine that reflected the flickering torchlight in jagged, dancing shards. King Aldric sat at the head of the long oak table,...
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