The Golden Quest
The dirt caked beneath your fingernails is the same grey-brown as the ledger pages you have been scrubbing for three months, a gritty, persistent residue that no amount of lye soap will fully remove. You are Elias Thorne, thirty-two years old, and your hands are trembling not from the cold seeping into the stone pavement of Aethelgard, but from the terrifying fragility of the object clutched in...
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