The Golden Mirror
The fog that rolled in off the harbor at dusk did not merely obscure the streets of Ironhaven; it ate them, swallowing the cobblestones and the wet stone facades of the bank houses until the city was reduced to a series of floating, ghostly rectangles in the gray void. Captain Elias Thorne stood on the precipice of the quay, his coat heavy with the dampness that seemed to seep into his very...
0 Reacties 0 aandelen 8 Views 0 voorbeeld