The Pale Mist

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2026-08-20 00:15:08 -

The Pale Mist

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended grey veil that turned the highlands of Caledonia into a landscape of drowned ghosts. Sir Alistair Thorne walked the narrow causeway toward the keep of Dunbar, his boots sinking into the mud with a wet, sucking sound that echoed in the hollow of his chest. He was a man carved from the same stubborn granite as the cliffs behind him, a...

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