The Iron Foxes of Blackmoor Fen

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2026-06-12 08:11:51 -

The moors did not welcome him. Sir Sebastian Crawford felt this on the first evening, standing on the threshold of Blackmoor Hall with his trunk in one hand and three plucked hens in the other. The wind came off the peat in sheets, cold and absolute, carrying the smell of wet earth and something older—something that had been here before stone, before timber, before any human hand had tried to...

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