The Golden Suspect
The iron gate of the Blackwood Bastion groaned against its rusted hinges, a sound like the death rattle of an old man, as Sergeant Elias Thorne pushed it open to face the storm. It was not a storm of wind and rain, though the sky above the Scottish Highlands churned with bruises of purple and slate, but a tempest of flesh and fury that had swallowed the entire garrison whole. Elias stood at the...
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