The Golden Crossing
The great city of Oramore was not built so much as it was grown, a sprawling organism of limestone and shadow that breathed in the heavy, sulfurous air of the valley, and it was here, in the lower districts where the cobblestones slicked with perpetual rain, that Silas Vane worked his shift at the Ministry of Textiles, a vast, cavernous hall where the looms hummed with a sound like the...
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