The Distant Legend
The quill scratches against the parchment, a sound like a dry twig snapping in the silence of the guild hall. You are Elias, thirty-four years old, and your hand is steady only because you are terrified of shaking. The candlelight flickers, casting long, wavering shadows across the oak table where the Guild Master, Aldous Thorne, sits at the head of the long bench. Thorne is a man who has worn...
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