The Pale Mist

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2026-08-20 08:59:00 -

The Pale Mist

The fog did not roll in; it seeped, a cold, viscous substance that tasted of iron and old graves, settling over the stone walls of the keep with a persistence that defied the wind. Sir Thomas Bradshaw stood at the edge of the battlements, his armor clinking softly as he shifted his weight, the metal plates growing uncomfortably heavy against his skin, not from the weight itself but from the...

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