The Pale Tower
The rain had been falling for three days, a ceaseless, grey sheet that turned the cobblestones of the alleyway into slick mirrors reflecting the gaslight and the wet, breathing dark, and it was into this damp, suffocating twilight that Captain Elias Thorne stepped, his coat buttoned to the throat, his hands trembling not from the cold but from a profound and terrible exhaustion that seemed to...
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