The Hall

The Hall

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In the bleeding north where the darkness of old blood merged on winter stones waiting for new wars, a man rose to power. Uncut, unbruised, with his sword still in his scabbard, with a shadow that clung to him noon and night, a man whose words were spoken softly, and soldiers leaned close to hear them fearing that the word they missed might be their death. They tried to kill him at first, scheming across the table at the feast he threw for them, drinking deep of the poisoned wine as Hrothgar smiled, watched them writhe ad die, until even

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