The Pale Protocol
The candlelight in the Great Hall of Dunmore Castle is not merely illumination; it is a living thing, a golden, trembling beast that devours the shadows and spits them back out as whispers, and you are sitting in the center of its gaze, your armor clinking softly with the rhythm of your own breathing, a sound so quiet it seems to exist only for you. You are Sir Julian Thorne, and you are a...
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