The Pale Meridian
The stone of the Keep did not breathe, yet you felt it shivering against your spine as you pressed your back against the cold, damp wall, the darkness of the corridor pressing in on you like a physical weight, heavier than the iron plate armor that clanked softly with every ragged, shallow breath you managed to take in the suffocating silence of the night. You are Thomas Bradshaw, a man whose...
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