The Golden Scar

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2026-08-21 14:51:28 -

The Golden Scar

The hall smelled of roasted boar and wet wool, a thick, cloying scent that clung to the back of the throat and made the air feel heavy, almost solid. It was the annual Feast of the Ledger, a night where the town of Oakhaven celebrated its perfect order, its unblemished record of virtue, and its absolute, unquestionable justice. I stood at the edge of the room, a shadow in a corner, watching the...

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