The Distant Ghost
The ale was dark and bitter, tasting of the peat used to brew it, and I drank it slowly to keep the heat from rising too fast in my chest. Around me, the Great Hall of the Iron Guard roared with the noise of men who had survived another year of border skirmishes. Torches flared against the high stone walls, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to mock the stillness I tried to project. I...
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