The Pale Banner
The rain on the cobblestones of Alderbury was not merely water; it was a grey, relentless whisper that had seeped into the marrow of your bones long before you reached the heavy oak doors of the Ashworth estate. You are a scholar of the old ways, a keeper of histories that the modern world prefers to forget, and you carry in your satchel a manuscript so fragile it seems less like paper and more...
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