The Pale Tower
The iron gates of the Aethelgard Keep did not open for the dawn, but for the breach. Sir Kaelen Vance stood in the courtyard, the rain hammering against his pauldrons, the sound a deafening percussion that masked the groan of the timber shoring. He was not a man who spoke much, but he spoke now, his voice low and steady beneath the storm, directing the archers to hold their line on the eastern...
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