The Pale Altar

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2026-08-20 01:43:35 -

The Pale Altar

The feast was a grotesque parody of plenty, a mountain of roasted meats and spiced wines piled high on the central table, yet the air in the great hall of the village of Oakhaven hung heavy with the cloying scent of rot that no amount of lavender could mask. Elara stood at the edge of the dais, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine cup, feeling the cold seep into her bones despite...

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