The Pale Circus

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2026-08-17 22:27:30 -

The Pale Circus

The mortar in the walls of the Undercroft is damp, tasting of iron and old rain, and you press your thumb against it, feeling the grit seep into the whorls of your skin. You are not human, though the men of King Aldric’s guard would swear they saw a man, a sallow, trembling clerk named Silas, huddled in the shadows of the Royal Pantry. They do not see the truth, which is that you are a creature...

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