The Pale Banner
The road into the valley of Ashford was not merely a path but a wound in the earth, a long, jagged scar that bled mud and rainwater into the boots of any who dared traverse it, and I walked it with the heavy, deliberate stride of a man whose joints had long since surrendered to the cold and the damp that clung to the air like a second skin, a suffocating shroud that made every breath feel like...
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