The Faded Frontier
The wool coat had begun to lose its shape before it ever truly possessed one, a garment of indeterminate grey that clung to the shoulders of Elias Thorne like a shroud that had been washed too many times in water that was not quite cold enough. It was not a coat that invited inspection, nor one that suggested the wearer was a man of consequence in the bustling, soot-stained city of Oakhaven,...
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