The Pale Door
The rain fell on the cobblestones of New Avalon. It was a cold, wet city. Stone and iron. The fog rolled in from the harbor. It tasted of salt and rust. Captain Elias Thorne walked the walls. He wore his armor. It was heavy. It clanked against his legs. He checked his sword. The blade was dull. He did not care. He needed the weight. It grounded him. It kept him here. The Order of the Pale Gate...
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