The Pale Altar
The road into Oakhaven was not a road so much as a suggestion of passage, a ribbon of gray gravel that wound through the dense, suffocating pines of the northern valley, carrying Elias Thorne and his companion, Silas, toward the town that was supposedly dying. They had traveled for three days, their packs heavy with the dry rations and the cold iron tools of their trade, which were less like...
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