The Pale Tower
The road to the Citadel of Aethelgard was a scar of red earth cut through the gray heather, and Captain Elias Thorne walked it with the heavy, rhythmic tread of a man carrying a weight he could no longer see. His cloak, once the deep blue of a winter midnight, was faded to the color of dried blood, the hem frayed and tattered by the relentless wind that swept down from the northern peaks. He...
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