The Pale Shadows
The rain had not stopped in three days, and the stone corridors of Blackwood Keep smelled of wet wool and old iron. Elias stood before the high window, watching the grey water sheet down the glass, distorting the view of the moor into a smear of bruised purple and black. He was a minor clerk in the household of Lord Aldous, a man of forty years who had spent his life arranging ledgers and...
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