The Golden Song
The candlelight in the Iron Court flickered, casting long, trembling shadows against the damp stone walls. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood by the table, his eyes fixed on the map of Oakhaven, while his wife, Mara, packed his kit with hands that shook so violently the leather straps snapped. The High Justiciar, a man whose face seemed carved from the same cold granite as the keep, leaned against the...
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