The Pale Shadows

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2026-08-19 21:33:52 -

The Pale Shadows

The feast was a riot of wax and wine. Candles gutted. Smoke curled. It smelled of beeswax and old blood. Commander Elias Thorne sat at the head of the long oak table. He did not eat. He watched the hands of the men. They were rough hands. They were clean hands. They moved with a rhythm he knew. The rhythm of the shield wall. The rhythm of the pike line. Outside the stone walls, the snow fell....

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