The Golden Cellar
The first sack weighed forty pounds, a dense, cold weight that seemed to pull at the seams of Aldric’s tunic. He counted the men as they hauled the rope over the lip of the pit, twelve strong backs straining against the drag of the earth. It was the third day of the march into Oakhaven, and the mist had settled so thickly that the sun was merely a pale, diffuse stain in the grey sky, offering...
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