The Pale Banner
The shelling began at dawn, a rhythmic thudding that shook the dust from the rafters of the warehouse where Elias Thorne had spent the last three weeks hiding. He was not a soldier, nor a spy, but a man of the cloth, a tailor from the industrial town of Oakhaven, who had fled the front lines with a single, heavy satchel. Inside that satchel, wrapped in oilcloth and burlap, lay the entire...
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