The Pale Exile

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2026-08-16 18:16:52 -

The Pale Exile

The mud was cold and it sucked at your boots with a wet, greedy sound that echoed in the hollow of your chest, a visceral reminder of the weight you carried not just in your hands but in the marrow of your bones as you stumbled through the fog-choked fields toward the crumbling manor of Blackwood, where the air tasted of coal smoke and impending judgment and you, Arthur, were running not away...

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