The Pale Banner

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2026-08-20 07:29:42 -

The Pale Banner

The banquet hall in the upper city of Orlais did not smell of wine or roasted swan, but of wet wool, old blood, and the peculiar, metallic tang of ozone that clings to the air after a lightning strike, a scent that had permeated the stone walls of the fortress for three hundred years and seemed to breathe through the cracks in the mortar whenever the wind shifted from the north. Thomas Bradshaw...

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