The Faded Shield
The carriage wheels groaned against the cobblestones of Ironhold, a sound like bone grinding on stone, as Captain Elias Thorne watched the palace rise from the morning mist. He was forty-two, his face a map of the wars he had survived, and beside him sat his wife, Clara, her fingers tracing the edge of the leather portfolio that contained their commission. They had come to restore the Royal...
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