The Golden Oath
The ink was still wet on the parchment when I looked up to see the faces of the men who would die for this town, their eyes fixed on the ancient stone altar in the center of the square, a surface worn smooth by centuries of hands and now stained dark with the blood of our oath. I am Elias Thorne, Commander of the Garrison, and I have just signed the Golden Oath, a pact that binds our militia to...
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