The Pale Exile
The fog that rolled in from the harbor did not merely obscure the city of Ashenport; it consumed it, wrapping the iron girders and soot-stained brick of the industrial quarter in a shroud of grey so thick and palpable that one might have cut it with a knife, a dense, wet wool that muffled the clanging of the steam hammers and the distant, rhythmic thrumming of the factory engines into a low,...
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