The Golden Harbor
The heavy iron key hung from Elias Thorne’s thumb, cold and slick with the condensation of the damp stone. It was a small, brutal thing, a master key to the Blackwater Keep, and it weighed more in his hand than the sword at his hip. He turned it in the lock of the lower cell, the mechanism grinding with a sound like a bone snapping, and pushed the door open. The air that rushed out was thick,...
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