The Pale Mist

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2026-08-20 12:39:06 -

The Pale Mist

The dream began, as it always did, in the grey suspension of the pre-dawn hour, where the architecture of the castle did not stand upon the earth but floated in a sea of thick, opaque fog that smelled of wet stone and old iron. Sir Alaric Vane stood in the center of the Great Hall, his armor clinking softly with a rhythm that sounded less like metal and more like the ticking of a broken clock,...

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