The Pale Verdict
The rain does not fall. It hammers. It beats against the leather of your shield, a relentless, rhythmic pounding that matches the thud of your own heart. You are wet to the bone. The mud is thick, brown, and heavy, sucking at your boots with every step. You are holding the line. You are not alone, but you are isolated in the moment. To your left, a young recruit named Thomas is screaming, a...
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