The Distant Temple

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2026-08-18 14:38:26 -

The rain in Harrowgate did not fall so much as it hung, a thick, gray curtain that turned the cobblestones into slick mirrors of the gaslight’s sickly yellow glow. Elias Thorne stood at the center of the square, his boots sliding slightly on the wet slate, holding a tin can that smelled of iron and old blood. He was not a man of violence, not by trade nor by nature, but the thing in his hand...

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