The Distant Temple
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended gray mist that clung to the high stone walls of the Blackthorn Keep, a fortress that had once guarded the northern pass against invaders who had long since turned to dust and memory. Inside the circular room at the heart of the tower, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool, old parchment, and the metallic tang of the iron brazier...
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