The Pale Echo

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2026-08-20 12:16:03 -

The Pale Echo

The rain in Oakhaven does not fall so much as it settles, a fine, gray mist that clings to the wool of your coat and seeps into the marrow of your bones. You stand at the edge of the village square, the cobblestones slick and black under the dim glow of the gas lamps. It is 1347, and the air smells of wet stone, woodsmoke, and the faint, metallic tang of blood that has soaked into the earth...

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