The Pale Tale

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2026-08-19 22:52:01 -

The Pale Tale

The hawk on the gable of the Guild Hall has no eyes. You know this because you have been looking at it for three days. It sits there, a jagged silhouette of lead and rust, staring blankly at the cobblestones where the rain pools in grey, oily sheets. You are a fighter, or you were. Your hands, wrapped in strips of linen that smell of mildew and old blood, are stiff. Your knees ache with a cold...

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