The Faded Shield
The year is 1240, and the air in the courtyard of Lord Kael’s castle smells of wet stone and the metallic tang of rust, a scent that has seeped into your lungs over the twelve years you have stood behind the great oak shield, protecting the lord’s back while he rode into battle, yet you are Eamon, a shield-bearer of no noble blood, and your desire is not for glory but for the simple, tangible...
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