The Venom Bearer
Act I: The Rising The fog came down over Blackmoor like a shroud, heavy with the sulphurous breath of the mill chimneys. It was the autumn of 1887, and the village clung to the Yorkshire moors the way a drowning man clings to debris, desperate and ungraceful. Elias Thorne had grown up in that fog, born with lungs already thickened by the particulate haze of three generations of textile workmen....
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