The Golden Harbor
The rain hit the cobblestones of the Blackwood estate courtyard like a handful of gravel thrown by an angry god. Sergeant Elias Thorne raised his rifle, the barrel slick with condensation, tracking a shadow that dissolved into the fog before he could fire. He wanted the perimeter secure by dawn, a simple tactical objective, but the air tasted of copper and old rot, a sensory assault that defied...
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