The Golden Farce
The fog in Oakhaven did not merely obscure the cobblestones; it swallowed them, a thick, gray maw that turned the ancient city into a labyrinth of shadows and silence. Elias Thorne, Commander of the Guild’s Food Wardens, stood in the center of his warehouse, the air heavy with the scent of damp stone and the sharper, cloying aroma of something that did not belong. He was fifty-two years old, a...
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