The Faded Shield
The fog rolled off the harbor in thick, wet sheets, erasing the line between the water and the cobblestones of the city. It was a grey, suffocating morning in the old quarter, where the air tasted of brine, rust, and the damp wool of men who had not slept. Captain Elias Thorne walked with his boots heavy on the wet stone, his hands tucked into the deep pockets of his long coat, his eyes fixed...
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