The Faded Shield
The rain in the lowlands did not wash things clean; it only made the grime slicker, a cold, oily film that clung to your skin and the fabric of your uniform. You stood at the edge of the treeline, the mud sucking at your boots with a wet, reluctant sound, watching the silhouette of Kaelen’s Keep rise against the bruised purple of the evening sky. It was not a castle, not in any romantic sense,...
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