The Pale Door

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2026-08-18 06:11:18 -

The Pale Door

The rain did not fall so much as it was hurled against the ramparts of the Blackwood Keep, a ceaseless, gray sleet that turned the moat into a churning cauldron of mud and blood. Sir Julian Vane stood at the breach in the northern gate, his breath coming in ragged, white bursts that vanished instantly into the freezing air, his steel plate creaking with the weight of the night’s exertions. The...

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