The Pale Fracture
The iron gates of the Citadel of Aethelgard shudder under the weight of your hammer, a rhythmic, metallic scream that echoes off the high, pale walls where the fog clings like a second skin. You are not merely an outsider; you are a stain upon this pristine, ancient order, a creature of the outer dark who has walked through the fire to reach the heart of the kingdom. The air here tastes of...
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