The Pale Mist

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2026-08-18 14:12:09 -

The Pale Mist

The rain had not stopped for three days. It fell in grey sheets against the glass of the tavern window. We sat in the corner. The table was scarred with knife marks and spilled ale. My hand rested on the hilt of my sword. It was a heavy thing. The leather grip was worn smooth. I had held it for ten years. My name was Kaelen. I was a knight. Or so they said. Thomas sat across from me. He was...

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