The Pale Tale

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 18:43:56 -

The Pale Tale

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended grey mist that clung to the stone walls of the Bastille Keep, saturating the wool and leather of the men who patrolled the damp corridors. Thomas Bradshaw stood by the heavy oak door of the armory, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword, feeling the cold seep through his glove. He was a man of few words, a sentinel whose duty...

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