The private solar of Outpost Nine was quiet save for the crackle of cedar hearth-logs and the soft rustle of aged vellum. Upon the heavy oak trestle table lay the leather satchel recovered from Chief Flesh-Weaver Malgath’s subterranean sanctum. Inside were twenty iron-bound codices, alchemical recipes written in the dark cipher of Caldera, and a sealed cylinder of black dragon-leather stamped with the royal crest of the First Warlords. Selene…
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