The Pale Shadows
The road to the Grey Peaks was not a road at all, but a suggestion of passage carved into the flesh of the mountain. It wound upward through a mist that tasted of iron and old snow. Thomas Bradshaw walked with his back aching, the weight of his armor feeling less like protection and more like a coffin closing around him. He was a soldier of the King, or perhaps the King was a soldier of him....
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