The Golden Circuit

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2026-08-22 00:13:52 -

The banquet hall of the Citadel of Oakhaven smelled of roasted boar, spilled ale, and the stale, metallic tang of unwashed bodies, a pungent mixture that hung heavy in the air like a shroud draped over the stone arches. Sir Julian Thorne sat at the head of the long oak table, his hands resting on the polished wood, his fingers tracing the grain as if seeking a rhythm in the timber that might...

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