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... art. The sun had barely crested the horizon, casting long shadows over Emberhold. A thin mist clung to the ground, curling around the reinforced palisades like restless spirits.

Alexander stood near the gates, watching as the scouting party made their final checks. Tyrell had chosen six of his best men, all seasoned in tracking and survival. They were lightly armed—daggers, short swords, and bows. Speed and stealth were their advantage.

Tyrell pulled the strap of his quiver tight ...

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