The Pale Banner
The rain has a taste tonight. It is metallic, sharp, and it pools in the hollow of your throat. You stand at the foot of the obsidian steps, your hand resting on the pommel of your sword, though you have not drawn it in three days. The castle of Aethelgard rises above the mist, a jagged tooth of stone biting into the bruised sky. You are Captain Elias Thorne. You are the King’s Shield. And you...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior