The Distant Temple
The door to the command room was locked, and you stood on the other side of the oak, your breath fogging the glass, listening to the heavy, rhythmic thud of Commander Vane’s boots pacing the length of the room as if he were measuring out the distance to a grave. You knew the cost of this silence; it was three shillings a day in wages you were not receiving, and it was the slow, creeping cold...
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