The Pale Exile

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2026-08-17 21:37:51 -

The Pale Exile

The rain struck the slate roof in a relentless, rhythmic drumming. It was a sound that filled the empty hall. "Guards!" The voice was thin. It cut through the damp air. "Wake the captain. The prisoner is awake." Silence followed. Then, the heavy thud of boots on stone. Thomas Bradshaw sat on the cold bench. His hands were bound. The rope bit into his wrists. He did not move. He breathed. In....

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