The Mist of the Moors
The fog on the moors didn't just hide the landscape; it breathed. It was a living, grey entity that swallowed the screams of the dying and the prayers of the lost. Silas led his army through the mist, but they were not an army of men. They were an army of the broken. The deserters, the madmen, the disgraced nobles, and the ghosts of a dozen failed revolutions. They marched in a silence so...
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